Detective Swallwell received a call from a San Jose police detective, Barton Rush, saying Sanchez was spotted having a lunch meeting with two other men. One man identified as one Anton Joseph, a known hardened criminal, the other they were unsure of at this time. Detective Rush, after hearing her request about Sanchez put out a feeler on him, and he was spotted by traffic division.
Penny asked Rush, to keep Sanchez under surveillance if possible, and brought him up to date regarding her suspicions of his involvement in a murder, and that she would be seeking permission to come to San Jose for a few days.
“O don’t worry Detective Swallwell, it’s possible. We take creeps like this living in our community very seriously. “
Detective Skidmore was stopped from entering the boardroom with Detective Swallwell. When she entered the room, ten men stood, then sat when she took her seat at a long oak table. A huge kafuffle erupted behind her as the Mayor barged through security. Again, they all stood to greet the Mayor.
“Sit down please!” snapped the Mayor as he took a seat at the head of the table. “I want fucking answers now!” Then excused himself to Detective Swallwell.
“No offence taken, Your Honour.”
“Good, now let’s get on with it!” continued the Mayor.
It was quite apparent that they had planned to attack and discredit her, but because of her lawyer, and the Mayor’s presence, it was well toned down. The top Brass in the force quickly became arguably divided, and the meeting bogged down.
“What arrests have been made so far?” demanded the Mayor, over the bickering.
They all stopped talking and stared at him with blank looks on their faces. To Penny, they all looked like scolded four-year-old’s.
“Why none so far?” piped up the Chief.
“WHAT!” screamed the Mayor. Standing and throwing his notes in the air, causing a dramatic flutter, that even made a few of them jump in their seats.
“We wanted to get all our ducks in a row first, we didn’t want to go off half cocked.” replied the Chief sheepishly, while watching the Mayor’s papers fall to the floor.
“Do you have any fucking idea of the lynch mob outside those fucking doors? You better feed them something positive, before this day is through! “
“There are some major image concerns about the higher members in the force and a few detectives too,” said the Chief, along with some “here, here” from his subordinate ass kissers.
“Are they dirty?” yelled the Mayor, sitting back down.
“Well ya, but…!”
“Then arrest the god damn crooks NOW!” screamed the Mayor cutting the Chief off. “If you think I’m fooling, I’ll have you all arrested. If I find even a hint of impropriety, or if any of you are implicated, your fucking toast. Understand?”
“Seriously, do you understand me? I’m warning you now.”
“Yes mayor, I can assure you,” squeaked the Chief. “Arrests will be made today, and possibly over the next few days.”
“And not just the small fry, get those bigger fish as well. I will talk to the DA!” said the Mayor in calmer tones. “They’re all going into the main prison population, they’ll have a fucking orgy with you.”
They all sat stunned, with innocent looks on their faces. They had spent so much time on their plan to roast Penny, they had no defence prepared.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR? GET OUT!” screamed the Mayor at the top of his lungs. “Arrest the fuckers!” he continued.
After another stunned silence, the Chief got up in a huff, and stormed out of the board room, followed, in pecking order by his minions.
Penny herself sat bedazed, not believing her eyes and ears, over the Mayors manners and sat there blankly looking down at him, sitting there, with a massive grin on his face.
“You think I’m gonna sit here and let them fuck over my best detective?” he said to her. “Pardon my French,” he continued.
“Thank you, Mayor, no really thanks,” was all she could muster at the moment.
“You need anything, or if you find your superior’s rude or unhelpful in any way, please call my office.”
“Well, there is one thing?” said Penny.
“What’s that, Detective Swallwell? “
“I’ve got a big lead on the Highway 101 murder case and I need to spend a few days to a week working with a San Jose Police detective, Barton Rush down there?”
“Consider it done, I’ll clear it with your superiors. You will be helped in any way possible. I want it so that you can do your job effectively, Detective. You run along now Detective, I’m gonna sit here and savour the moment. “
“Again thanks. I really appreciate it.”
“One more thing,” called the Mayor after her. “Every one is being investigated, even you, can’t have them saying I’m playing favorites, now can I? I’m cleaning up Dodge City, from top to bottom.”
“Music to my ears your Honor!” laughed Penny.
When Penny stepped out into the hall, Detective Skidmore just shook his head in wonder. “I didn’t even have to be in the room, to enjoy that!” He said smiling.
Two days later, Detective Barton Rush, of the San Jose police swat, accompanied by Detectives Skidmore and Swallwell, banged on the door of S. They knew he was home, and after a period of waiting, they had the police swat unit kick in the door. They found him descending the stairs, dripping wet, in a house coat.
“Well I guess I got a good case of police harassment, eh darling?” said S descending the last few steps. He was speaking to a half-dressed woman videoing it all with her phone.
After reading him his rights and showing him their search warrant, they allowed him to put pants and a shirt on. They took him out bare foot and handcuffed.
“Would ya be so kind as to phone my lawyers, darling? They’re on my phone!” yelled S over his shoulder.
The second Penny heard that, she ripped the phone outta the woman’s hands.
“Hey…!” yelled the woman.
“Sorry, is it your phone?” asked Penny.
“Well, no.”
“Shut up then!” barked Penny.
They searched the house from top to bottom, took all computerized electronics, files and ledgers, and listened to all his answering machine messages. No stone was left unturned.
Even before they interviewed him, detective’s found tons of damaging info on S. One led him right to Micky, the very day he was found dead, and also led them straight to Red. Penny sent out an immediate warrant for Red’s arrest.
Axle and Angela took the inland route to southern Arizona. Axle started to feel exposed and purchased electric hair shears. That first night Angela shaved him bald, in a hotel outside of Coyote.
“Now, that beard turns me on!” she cooed. “Better get some sun on that,” she continued, rubbing his tender shiny head. But Angela was secretly annoyed at having to live like this. Her father was becoming unforgivable now in her eyes.
In Apache Junchon, they stopped in at a one of Red’s public locker yards and grabbed as much gear as they thought they could carry on the two bikes. Even a 3030, and shells. They also bought backpacks to carry extra storage.
They stopped for a break, in a dried-up wash, laced with jojoba brush and picked blue Palo verde pods for the old medicine woman who lives alone out near the trailer. There were only a few green poles in her area, and she loved making traditional flour from them, and from the Mesquite tree. If the old Indian woman was still alive, she’d love these small gifts, along with sugar and coffee. Angela wouldn’t dare go to the trailer without it.
“Wow, I forgot all about her!” replied Axle. Removing his large floppy hat and rubbing the weirdness of his newly shaved head. They wouldn’t wear their helmets in this heat. In the 110-degree sun, the Cicada males were singing their hearts out, in the small Mesquite trees, after years of being underground. Angela wondered if they weren’t a sign because they were out during the trailer move? They both took long sips of warm water and headed out toward the desert valley.
The bedding and binnocks were already at the trailer, wrapped in plastic, so Angela and Axle only had to concentrate on getting the food, water and other staples. At least two weeks worth. Warm night clothes and carrots for the wild horses. Some chickens could be brought in later. For now, just the essentials, that could be carried on the bikes, were the only supplies they would take with them.
They headed for the trailhead at the Hoodoos, and slowly followed a dried-up creek bed. They had loaded themselves down with too much junk, so decided that they would drop some of it at the halfway mark and return for it later.
They both, without telling each other, thought that they had grown so much older since the last time they were here together. They would have never travelled like this before. Axle would have laughed at himself, if he were to see himself today.
“Our old spot is only a few miles away, at the entrance to the valley, smell the air” Angela yelled back to Axle. Her bike shocks barely keeping up causing her to wince every time the engine dove into the sand.
“You wanna?” she continued.
“In this heat?” replied Axle. “I’m game!”
“Never stopped ya before!” she yelled, spewing out long rooster tails, trying to keep the great weight of the bikes ass end from slipping under her.
Then Angela braked so hard, that Axle almost ran into her. There, just off to the right, was a huge badger, digging madly under a creosote bush. It looked fearlessly around at them once, then went back to its digging.
“I’ve never seen a badger in the desert before?” wondered Angela.
The badger, swung around bearing its teeth, after hearing Angela’s voice. As she tried speaking over the unmistakable sounds of an idling Harley. So, they slowly moved on dodging small hedgehog, and barrel cactus littered among the tall saguaro. Sentential of the desert, the iconic symbol of the southwest.
Within a few more miles, a wide shimmering purple and green valley opened up before them, framed by an endless cerulean blue sky.
“OK, we’ll dump the extravagant extras here,” said Angela. “The sand is much loser from here on in. They laid everything unnecessary out under a large and shady creosote bush.
“I’ll come out tomorrow and grab it,” said Axle. Tying his bandanna to it. He continued.
As Angela was saying she’d come out with him, she noticed a carefully concealed road runners nest, about ten feet away. A foot high in the crotch of a Prickly pear. <p.
She had seen one before, and the similarities left no doubts. Sure enough, when she walked over, the adult ran off, exposing a clutch of seven eggs.
“Eggs tonight darling, just wait till you taste these?” She called, as she collected them.
Minutes later Angela saw her run and fly to a dead yucca stock, and bitterly complain over such a grave injustice.
Axle smiled, pointing over at something out of her sight. When Angela stepped up beside him she was struck with wonder. Spreading out before them were millions of orange California poppies, purple winecups, and yellow Marigolds.
They held each other close, while looking out over the marvelous views, spreading before them. The shimmering heat far out over the purple plains of the valley floor, tricks the eye into thinking there is water ahead. A little train of Quail scooted by the bikes on little legs, as a morning dove, high in a Saguaro tree sang its lonely song.
Dan Ger
