The Circle: Fallon's Story (THE CIRCLE SERIES) Page 10

  After it was all said and done Torrence was left with nothing but an empty house with a huge mortgage that she could barely afford. Once her kids were gone she decided to throw herself into her work, which is what caused her to lose her kids in the first place. What else did she have? Torrence refuse to accept that work had kept her away from home so much that her husband had stepped out on her. She’d tried to work things out, but he decided he wanted to be with his mistress. He’d also decided he would take their children too. In court, Torrence had no wins. Her husband had been able to show that she’d missed almost all of her daughter’s dance recitals and had only attended one of her son’s baseball games. Even she hadn’t realized it was that bad. Torrence didn’t even know what her kids’ most recent favorite foods were or when they’d last been to the doctor for a regular checkup.

  The judge handed the kids over to their father without even giving Torrence a fighting chance. That painful experience just threw her even further into the job. She was at the point where she hardly ever went home these days; however Torrence was able to brag about an almost perfect fugitive apprehension record. Everyone in the office joked that a fugitive would have to hide in hell with the devil in order to get past the detection of Veronica Torrence. But no one bragged about how good of a wife and mother she was a fact that wasn’t lost on her.

  Back at her desk, Torrence slumped into her chair and picked up the case file for her most recent assignment. She took a sip of her sixth cup of coffee, reared back in her office chair and bit the inside of her cheek as she read over the documents for the fifth time. Torrence was focused, driven and missing her kids like crazy, even a crazy case like this couldn’t take her mind off of their little faces. She let out a long exasperated breath as she sifted through all of the paperwork on the newest fugitive she was hunting. It was certainly going to be a new challenge to find this one, something Torrence welcomed to get her mind off of her home life. Torrence smirked as she looked at the blow up of Fallon Porter’s mug shot. What a smug bitch this Fallon Porter was, a fact that made Torrence even more determined to find her.

  “The nerve of this bitch,” Torrence whispered to herself as she studied the picture.

  Fallon had winked and smiled in her mug shot picture after she’d been picked up during the raid of the Porter gang’s safe house. With her perfectly done hair, flawless make-up and pretty facial features, Fallon’s mug shot looked more like a glamour shot. Torrence thought Fallon kind of reminded her of herself maybe ten years ago when Torrence still had striking beauty.

  “You think you’re so fucking hot don’t you? I bet I can wipe that little smile right off your pretty little face,” Torrence spoke to the picture. She slammed the file down on the desk in disgust. Then she peeked at the picture just one last time.

  “You are now fucking with the feds and I don’t ever lose so I guess I’ll be winking at you in person soon Ms. Porter,” Torrence said as if Fallon could hear her.

  Torrence had been studying up on Fallon Porter and her siblings. She was impressed that the foursome boasted a perfect bank heist record that had allegedly netted them over three million dollars over the years. Torrence had to hand it to them; they were pretty good at what they did because the government had some pretty savvy bank robbery investigators who just couldn’t get enough evidence on the Porters to take them down. It had taken a very close associate of the Porters to turn state’s witness in order to bring the sibling thieves down.

  One of Torrence’s colleagues had already been assigned to track down Rain and Autumn Porter who were also on the run. Torrence had heard about the two girls’ brazen jailbreak out and it had made Torrence’s skin crawl. Torrence would inevitably, at some point, be teaming up with the Marshalls that were already tracking the other sisters. But for now she had her sights focused on Fallon Porter alone.

  “Ay Roni! Look at this shit! They found your girl’s rental car in Denver!” U.S. Marshall Angelo Palmeri called out to Torrence.

  Torrence swigged the last of her coffee and Red Bull and jumped up from her desk. She suddenly had a second wind as she rushed over to where Palmeri stood.

  “What are you saying?” Torrence asked anxiously. He smiled and handed her a stack of documents. The excited look on his face told Torrence that it was something good. She snatched the documents from his hands.

  “Those just came through the wire baby. We got a solid lead now,” Palmeri replied rubbing his hands together like a mad scientist. “One Benjamin Hartwell found dead at the same hotel where they found the car that Porter was driving when she shot the trooper. Car comes back to an Enterprise right in Baltimore. They are saying that from the looks of it on the surveillance footage outside of the gas station in Nebraska, Benjamin Hartwell is the guy who Porter snatched from the trooper and rode off with after the shooting. Our next guess is that Porter was the one who off’d Mr. Hartwell so that he would keep his mouth shut. We need to hit the ground and start talking to people. Guess we need to stop at Enterprise in Baltimore on our way out to Denver,” Palmeri said.

  “Motherfucker!” Torrence hissed shaking her head as she looked at the documents. “She is just racking up crimes as she goes, huh? I guess we are headed to Baltimore then Denver like you said. We have a bitch to catch,” Torrence agreed trying not to seem as excited as she really was inside. This was the type of break she needed. A trip to Denver, Colorado couldn’t hurt either. Torrence would’ve done anything to be away from her empty, lonely house.

  Torrence flipped through the stack of papers Palmeri had given her one more time and her heart rate sped up with excitement. Catching criminals is what Torrence did best, even better than being a mother, so cases like this gave her life. This chick Fallon Porter was going to be Torrence’s best catch yet. She smiled and turned to Palmeri.

  “What the hell are we still doing standing around here? Let’s go! First stop Baltimore,” Torrence said, focused.

  When Torrence and the twelve heavily tinted, blacked out Suburbans that accompanied her pulled up to the block of row houses in Baltimore, all of the street hustlers and fiends scattered like roaches when the lights came on. Torrence silently signaled that they were focusing on the last house on the block. A fleet of black booted, riot gear wearing, special force officers flooded out of their vehicles one after the other. They formulated a perfect line to the left of the door. What they referred to as a perfect raid stack; guns drawn but pointed downward so as not to leave their fellow officers in their cross hairs. Torrence was at the front of the stack. It was already understood that she was the team lead on this operation and she’d be calling the shot. A big deal for Torrence who’d scratched her way to that point in her career.

  She held up five fingers and counted them down, 4, 3, 2, then, BANG! BANG! BANG! She hammered the door with her fist. It was the law for them to knock and announce before they breached.

  “Police! Warrant!” Torrence shouted and then she gave another identifiable hand signal. Six officers stacked on the opposite side of the door made a line in front of the door. They nodded at Torrence and took the battering ram and went full speed ahead, slamming the solid piece of reinforced steel into the door. The flimsy wood door splintered open, sending wood flying everywhere.

  “Police! Don’t fucking move!” Torrence screamed, her gun drawn and out in front of her. There were at least three people inside the house, but only one was on Torrence’s radar. She zeroed in on him.

  “Don’t move or your ass will end up filled with holes,” Torrence warned sternly.

  “I’m not moving. Not moving at all,” Drew said, already lying face down on the floor with his hands behind his head.

  “Drew Powers we have a search warrant for your premises,” Torrence said. Drew didn’t say a word as the entire U.S. Marshall’s Service pillaged his hideout for evidence.

  Torrence walked over to where Drew now sat handcuffed in one of his own chairs. She wanted to spit in his face, but Torrence curbed her impulses.

&nb
sp; “Where did she go? The person that you gave the fake name and identification of Annette Baker?” Torrence asked, flicking Fallon’s picture at Drew. Drew looked down at the picture and then back at Torrence.

  “I’ve never seen her in my life. But you seem to think you know more than me,” Drew replied with a smirk on his face. Torrence could feel heat rising from her feet and climbing up to her face. She balled her fists at her sides.

  “I’ll ask you one more time. When you committed felony aiding and abetting by providing Fallon Porter, a jail escapee and a fugitive, the identification, credit cards and the car…the car by the way that you had Lisa Stander, the crack head, rent in her name, where did Fallon Porter say she was going?” Torrence asked through clenched teeth. Her patience was wearing very thin.

  “If I’m not under arrest yet don’t try to talk to me and if I am under arrest don’t talk to me without my lawyer. Oh and since I haven’t heard any Miranda warnings, I’m guessing I am not under arrest, so in that case…fuck off,” Drew spat.

  Torrence felt like a really thin string inside of her head that was keeping her sanity in place had finally been plucked loose. She rushed over and punched Drew across his face so hard spit flew out of his mouth. She punched him again and again until she finally saw blood. Torrence couldn’t stop her fists from flying, although the words POLICE BRUTALITY LAWSUIT were ringing in her head, she let her punches land at will.

  “Roni! Roni! What the fuck are you doing?!” Palmeri shouted finally able to grab one of Torrence’s wrists and halt her barrage of punches. “Are you losing your mind?”

  Drew’s entire face was bloody from the gush of blood leaking from his busted nose. Torrence looked down at the mess she’d made through widened eyes. It’s like she didn’t recognize herself or her own actions. Her chest heaved up and down like a mad woman.

  “I…I…don’t know…what…” she stammered looking down at her hands like she didn’t believe they belonged to her.

  “You’ll know what when my fucking lawyer ruins you. You’ll be working for me this time next year. You will not get away with this,” Drew gurgled through the blood that leaked from his nose into his mouth.

  Palmeri pulled Torrence outside. He shooed the other curious or just nosey officers away from her. “Go search for evidence. There’s nothing to see here,” Palmeri dismissed them. Once they were outside he turned on Torrence like a high school principal on a wayward student.

  “What the fuck was that in there Roni? Do you need to take some time off? You know…sort things out at home?” he growled. “This shit can’t be happening. You were totally out of fucking control. Do you need a few days, Roni?” Palmeri asked again. Torrence closed her eyes for a few seconds. Her nostrils opened and closed rapidly with each breath she took. She opened her eyes and stared straight back at her counterpart.

  “No. I don’t need time off at all. I just need that piece of shit counterfeiter to stop lying. Angelo…I know he saw Porter. I mean you were there when we spoke to the crack head… you know yourself what she said. That piece of shit in there drove Porter to pick up the car and everything. He knows way more than he is saying and I’m not up for the games,” Torrence said frantically trying to get her point across. Palmeri reached out with both hands and touched her shoulders. He felt sorry for her. She was literally coming apart at the seams.

  “Roni, you’re going to get her. We are finding all of the evidence we need right there in that house, but if you lose it and catch an internal affairs case, all of this shit will be for nothing. Everything we get in there will be thrown out just like that…poof, gone. And guess what…Porter gets away because by the time you fight off internal affairs, she will be five countries over. All I’m saying Roni, is go home tonight. Let me handle what’s going on here. You get some rest, come back tomorrow and start fresh and new when you can think straight. This job is not everything,” Palmeri said sympathetically. Torrence shot Palmeri an evil look. What the fuck did he know about her?

  “Don’t tell me this job is not everything. Not you mister white man in America. You got your job because they looked at you and said you were fit. Me…me I got my job with a bunch of scratching and clawing and a whole lot more of shit to prove. I’m not as fortunate as you to be born the right sex and the right race. No, I’m a little girl from the hood whose parents didn’t give her shit because they didn’t have shit to give. When I got this job that was the first time I had ever seen my father look at me like he was proud of anything I’d ever done, including being born. It was the first time I could remember my mother telling me she loved me. You know how that stings Angelo? For your parents to associate pride and love for you with a job. The first time I ever received the kind of love I was craving all of my life was all because I had gotten a job with the fucking government. Not because I was their daughter or because I had tried to be the best child after my brother was killed on the street, not for either of those reasons…No, just because of a title in front of my name, U.S. fucking Marshall. This job made me exist in a world I had never been acknowledged in before. A fucking job Angelo is all I have to define who I am as a person. So excuse me if I work too hard and I’m too good at what I do, but it’s all that fucking matters to me these days. It’s the only place that I can make a difference or matter in this entire fucked up world we live in,” Torrence spat. Palmeri didn’t know what to say or do. He’d never seen her give such an emotional out pour. He could tell there was a scared little girl still living inside of Torrence.

  “I was just trying to help. To let you know I am here for you if you need me. Or more importantly if you need some rest,” Palmeri said meekly. Torrence shrugged his hands off of her shoulders.

  “Fuck that Angelo, I will not let you make me out to be some little charity case because I lost my kids or because Judah decided to go fuck some whore he now calls his wife. Contrary to popular belief, I am not losing my mind. I am very fucking much in tune to what is going on. Now, I am going to work this case; my case until I have that smug bitch Fallon Porter in my hands. Until I can look in her face and smile and wink and tell her she didn’t win. So don’t ever try to send me away again. I can rest when I’m dead and so can you. I will not quit until I catch her and I don’t care if I don’t get a fucking wink of sleep until I do,” Torrence hissed, jutting an accusing finger at her partner’s chest. With that she stalked back into the house.

  “C’mon people, I want this place gone over with a fine tooth comb,” Torrence shouted like nothing had ever happened, although a bloody faced Drew Powers told her that she hadn’t heard the last of him.

  Chapter 7

  Sleeper Car

  Fallon showed her fake identification and paid for her train ticket in cash.

  “Thank you for riding Amtrak Ms. Baker,” the clerk said smiling as she pushed a paper ticket under the counter glass towards Fallon. Fallon avoided eye contact and did not answer the woman. It was rude but Fallon knew that when the police were looking for people on the trains and planes the first people they spoke to were the ticket clerks. She couldn’t chance the woman remembering her.

  Fallon kept Ben’s hat low on her head, but she had ditched the wig since she had worn it at the time of the trooper shooting. Fallon had bunched all of her hair up under the hat. So unless someone was able to really look deep into her face they wouldn’t be able to tell whether or not she was a male or female, especially from a distance. All she could do was hope that this disguise would last her until she got as close to the border as possible.

  There were so many uniformed officers roaming the train station Fallon’s nerves were on edge. She was a wreck constantly whipping her head around. It was like each officer was looking at her or looking for her. Even with the disguise, Fallon couldn’t control her shaking legs and trembling hands each time a different police officer or Amtrak guard passed her. Finally, she found a bathroom. She rushed into a stall and hid inside until it was just before her time to board.

  “Fallon you
can get to this border. You are going to see everybody and this will all be worth it,” Fallon whispered to herself as she stooped on the toilet inside the stall. She sighed with relief when she finally heard the loudspeaker announcement for her train. Her heart immediately kick started in her chest. It was now or never.

  When Fallon finally boarded the train, she felt a short burst of relief rush through her body, although she knew she couldn’t rest easy until she was no longer in a public place period. There would be no celebrations, big or small, until she was with her brother and two sisters on some beach in Mexico saying fuck the police. Fallon smiled just thinking about the day.

  She had purchased a newspaper right after she’d gotten her ticket, which she held up in front of her face. Hopefully, between the hat being so low and the newspaper, she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with anyone on the long train ride. As soon as Fallon began settling down in her seat the loud shouts put her right back on high alert. She was sick of being on pins and needles.

  “Tickets! Tickets! Pull out your tickets!” It was the train’s conductor coming through collecting tickets. Fallon pulled hers out and left it on the small tray in front of her seat, but she pulled the newspaper back up over her face. When the conductor took Fallon’s ticket, he paused for a minute and stood next to her. Fallon’s heart galloped in her chest and felt like it would come up her throat. She could feel the conductor’s presence looming dangerously close to her right arm. Does he already recognize me? Why is he standing her so long? Should I run? Fallon’s mind raced with questions and thoughts. She refused to look at the man. Instead, she continued to stare at the newspaper frozen with fear. Turns out he was reading something on the backside of her newspaper.