This story is part of an ongoing series.
The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography.
Feedback and
constructive
criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racism, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.
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Author's special note: This story covers those every-year Holiday things, and also lays groundwork and builds up to two big future stories. Thank you for your patience.
Part 16 - 'Suicide' Like Epstein
"Oh, wow." I said at the news. "How?"
"We're told it's a suicide, but suspicious." said Karina White. "Can you go down there with us?"
"Uh, sure." I said. "Let me get some civilian clothes." I opened my little wardrobe closet and grabbed a small bag that had civilian clothes in it (all black, dontcha know), and rushed to go with Jack and Karina.
Cindy Ross suddenly popped out of the doorway of her office. "Can I go with y'all?" she asked.
"Yeah, sure." I said, without hesitation. "Grab some civilian clothes. Helena, would you call the Chief and Sheriff, and let them know we're going to Sunnydale with Jack and Karina of the FBI? We probably won't be back by COB, so go home when you're ready." Helena reached for the phone as Cindy came out, and we ran down the hall to catch up with Jack and Karina.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Go to County Airport." Jack directed as we piled into my Police SUV.
"Uh," I said, "you know none of the TCPD choppers have the range to get to Sunnydale and back, unless you have a major refueling stop ready for us."
"Don't stress on it." said Jack. "Airport."
We went to County Airport, where I saw a small, sleek jet plane waiting near the terminal, with a Federal Government number on the tail.
"Whoa, what's that?" I said as we parked.
"That's an airplane." said Muscone, deadpan flat.
"Ohh! Four hundred years a-
go!
" I said with a big grin. "That one sure got past me!"
"Get on the plane, Dog." said Jack, his beady black eyes twinkling a bit. "It's our ride down there."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
On the plane, Cindy changed to her civilian clothes, and I changed into my black pants and pullover shirt, which went well with my trenchcoat. The chairs on the small jet faced each other with a table between, so we gathered around to talk once we were airborne.
"I don't have a lot." said Jack. "The call came in at 10:00am. She'd been found about fifteen minutes before that. Get this: they started taking pictures even before they checked to see if she was still alive or not. She wasn't; she'd been dead a while. In and out of rigor, per the M.E.'s initial evaluation."
"What was the cause?" I asked.
"They're saying she tied a sheet around her neck and hanged herself." said Muscone. He showed us some photos on his iPhone. "But as you can see, she tied herself to the upper part of the bed and leaned forward. She wasn't really hanging."
"Oh." I said. "Just like the Clintons's buddy, Jeffrey Epstein. They said he committed suicide by tying a sheet around his neck and 'leaning forward'. Then the autopsy said his death was more consistent with strangulation by another person, not by hanging. Still, it was ruled a 'suicide'. Whatever the Big Boyz wanted to hear, I guess."
"Is Betty Morelli really one of them?" Karina White asked, perhaps not getting the true meaning of my comments about Jeffrey Epstein.
"No." said Cindy. "And her husband is a relatively small-time gangster."
"Who is in Federal prison, a long, long way away from here." said Jack Muscone.
"Well, let's wait until we get down there." I said. "Oderwise, we'll start theorizing without data. So... how'd you get this plane so fast?" I asked.
"Coincidences
do
happen." Muscone said with a gleam in his beady black eyes. "Owen Lange, who has been returned to his EAD position, was flying to the City when the call came in. He directed the plane to land at County Airport. Karina had come over for a routine meeting with Melina Allgood, and I had stayed home and didn't go to the City because of that. So we're on our way to Sunnydale, while Lange talks to your Sheriff and Mayor about the pure shit the DOJ is doing to you."
No, I thought to myself, coincidences don't happen; at least not two or more at the same time. But I kept my mouth shut and pretended to be an Agency of the Weak Minded...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sunnydale Prison is near the town of Sunnydale, in the agricultural southeastern part of the State. We landed at Rocktown's airport and were transported by a Federal SUV to the Prison, which was a 45 minute drive. It was now 1:30pm.
We were escorted into the guard's entrance of Sunnydale Prison and given badges that had to be showing at all times. The prison was on lockdown, so we were allowed to keep our weapons for our own security. We were led to Betty Morelli's cell by the Warden himself and a couple of his staff people.
I was surprised to see SBI-OER Inspector Britt Maxwell here, along with SBI Agent Terence Johnson from the '
Casting Aspersions
' case. "Hello, Inspector." I said. "Agent Johnson, good to see you again, too."
"You too, sir." said Johnson as we shook hands.