Little Red Haired Girl Ch 03

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, 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.

Part 16 - Heartbreak

As Frieda tried to open the door, Laura had run up to her. "Frieda! Get back!" my wife called out as she grabbed Frieda and led her away and back towards the Police SUV, ending up off the road onto the farmland that bordered it.

I had run up behind them, and I attempted to open the door. Like Frieda's vain attempts, I could not make the door move; the door wouldn't budge. But I had my crowbar, and I used it upon the door. With a loud

*SNAP!*

, the latch gave way, and I was able to open it.

Frieda's mother was in the front passenger seat, unconscious. The airbag had deployed, but I did not like the way her neck and head looked. I reached over and undid the seatbelt, then picked up Mrs. Franklin, trying to support her neck with my arm and elbow. I carried her back to where Laura and Frieda were.

"Mommy! Wake up!" Frieda wailed.

"Sit back, Frieda." Laura said. "I'm a doctor. Let me try to help your mother."

Meanwhile, I'd run back up to car, and around to the driver side, barely noticing that other Police vehicles had driven up, and were next to my SUV and blocking all traffic.

The driver side door of the vehicle was actually cracked open, but was very hard to push further open. I finally got it open enough to look inside. And the sight I saw made me almost sick... and knowing that it was too late.

The force of the collision on the front left side had pushed the engine into Mr. Franklin's legs; I couldn't really see them, or what was left of them. The brake pedal was pushing into his groin and abdomen, and the airbag's deployment had done nothing to stop his chest from smashing against the steering wheel.

Even though I knew it was too late, I still tried to get Mr. Franklin out of the car. But just then I felt a fire blanket being wrapped around me, and I was pulled back.

"Get back, sir!" I heard someone yell, even as he was pulling me back and away from the vehicle. "The gas tanks are gonna blow!"

The Police Officer was Sr. Patrolman Johnson, who'd heard the emergency call on the radio and immediately rushed down the Bypass to us. Other Police cars were coming, as well as a Fire Truck.

*BOOM!*

The Franklin car's gas tank exploded. Fortunately, they're made to direct the explosion downward, so very little debris flew out. But the car was now engulfed in flames, and I could only hope and pray that Mr. Franklin had died on impact, and was not suffering pain from the flames that were consuming his body.

On the other side of the wreck I saw blue lights, and heard shouts and the sound of metal moving. Someone was trying to get the driver of the other car out. And then the other car's gas tank exploded.

*BOOM!*

A few seconds later, I heard Rudistan's voice. "I'm next to the northbound car. We pulled the driver out, but he's dead."

"Thanks for the blanket, Johnson." I said. "Where's my crowbar?"

"You dropped it, sir," said Johnson, "when you were trying to get the driver out. We'll have to let the Fire Department put out the fire, and then I'll get it for you."

"Thanks." I said. I then went over to where Laura and Frieda and the girl's mother was. Frieda was sitting on her knees, sobbing and wailing "Mommy..." I looked at Laura, who looked up at me and shook her head. Frieda's mother was dead.

"Hey, Frieda." I said, coming up to the girl, and kneeling down beside her, my back screaming in protest. "Come over here to my vehicle, okay?"

"No!" Frieda sobbed. "I want to stay with my Mommy!" I put my arm around the girl and she collapsed into my side, crying as her grief fully hit her. A few moments later an ambulance finally arrived, and paramedics came over.

"Come on, Frieda." I said. "Let's go over here and let the paramedics take care of your mom." I expected to have to pick her up and for her to resist. But Frieda came along. I had her get into the backseat of my SUV.

And thank God for small favors: one of the blue-flashing vehicles that came up was that of Commander Cindy Ross. "What happened?" she asked as she came up to me.

"Frieda Franklin's family." I said. "Frieda is in the backseat of my car here."

"I'll stay with her." Cindy said.

"I have a better idea." said Laura, coming up to us. "Cindy, will you take Frieda and me to the hospital, so I can check her for injuries?"

"Sure." Cindy said. They left as I made like Bowser and supervised at the scene.

"Crowbar!" I heard a voice bark, the voice of Sheriff Griswold. "I'm being told you pried open the car and got a couple of people out."

"Frieda Franklin got out herself." I said. "She was trying to open the door where her mother was, but it was jammed shut. I pried it open, but Mrs. Franklin was dead, at least I think she was. Laura was here, and said she was dead. I went around to get Mr. Franklin, but the car engine was in his lap, and Johnson pulled me back before the gas tank blew."

"You did what you could, Crowbar." said the Sheriff. "Good work."

"Thank you, sir... oh! Wait! Johnson!" I yelled out.

"Sir?" Johnson said as he came up to me.

"Johnson, I need a CSI team to this location immediately." I said. " I need someone who can download my dash-cam to the evidence servers. I want you to guard my SUV and not let anyone near it! It's evidence! And call in to get any camera footage on the Bypass and all the bridges back into Town!"

"Yes sir!" said Johnson. He grabbed his Police radio to make the call as he went over to my SUV to guard it."

"What's going on, Crowbar?" asked Sheriff Griswold.

"I saw the crash, Sheriff, about 200 to 250 feet in front of me." I said. "There was a car right behind the accident. It had stopped, but when I pulled up with the lightbar flashing and the siren going off, that car suddenly went around the crashed cars and sped off!"

"Hmmmm." said the Sheriff. "You think something's odd about that?"

"More than odd, Sheriff." I said. "And if I'm right..."

I didn't finish the sentence, but called Cindy on my Police iPhone. "Ross!" I said when she answered, "stay with Frieda Franklin! Guard her, and get some other Officers to guard her! Don't leave her alone! She may be in danger!"

"Wilco." Cindy said. As we disconnected, I noticed that the Town & County Sheriff was staring at me.

"Yes, Sheriff." I said. "I may be crazy."

"I figured that out already." growled the Sheriff. "What is it, Don?"

"Sir," I said, beginning to go introspective, "I think the car crash that killed Barker

may have been trying to kill Frieda Franklin

, who was right there. And I think this car crash

was someone trying to kill her tonight...

"

Part 17 - Crazy Crowbar Theories

"No, DFACS cannot have Frieda tonight." I said into the phone. "You can tell them that she is in protective custody, but she is staying with me tonight." I was talking on the phone to Cindy at the Hospital.

"They're not thrilled about it, but they said okay." Cindy said. "They said they'll sort out the paperwork tomorrow. Laura and I will bring Frieda to the Cabin. She checked out okay, no physical injuries."

"Sounds like a plan." I said. "I'll see you up there later."

It was 12:30am, Saturday, February 23d. As I disconnected with Cindy, my landline phone on my desk rang. "They're ready for you in Classroom 'E', sir." said Detective Joanne Warner.

I went into Classroom 'E', following Chief Moynahan, who I'd collected from his office. Sheriff Griswold was already there, as were Detectives Warner and Parker, Captain Perlman, Mark Walker of the Crime Lab/CSI group, and Lt. Myron Milton.

"Thank you all for being here so late." said Chief Moynahan. "Commander, it's your meeting."

"Thank you, Chief, and thank you everyone for coming in." I said. "I've asked for your help tonight because I don't think what happened on the Bypass tonight was an accident. And if I'm right, then what happened to Officer Barker may not have been an accident, either. So that was the basis for me asking you guys to collect all the data that you could. Okay, who wants to start?""

"I will, sir." said Mark Walker. "We downloaded the video from your SUV onto the evidence servers. It doesn't show the crash, but it does show that SUV behind the Franklin's car swerving out and taking off southbound. We were able to get a car tag from your dash-cam as well as from the Jefferson Avenue intersection to the south of where the crash occurred. The number is 'BEQ 468' and the car tag is of this State... but when we ran it, it came back as there being no 'BEQ 468' plate issued anywhere."

"How can that be?" asked the Chief.

"Aw, we don't need a crowbar for that." growled Sheriff Griswold. "They painted over the real numbers to make that number. I'd say to try combinations involving 'P' instead of 'B', 'F' instead of 'E', 'O', instead of 'Q', '1' instead of '4', '5' instead of '6', and '3' instead of '8'."

"That's why he's the Sheriff, and we're his students." I said. Everyone agreed enthusiastically. Griswold waved off the praise, but his mustaches were twitching.

"Let me try something." said Myron Milton. He brought up still frames of the car with the tag. "I'm trying to see how the numbers reflect in the light." He transmitted the image from his computer to the projection screen so we could all look at it. After some discussion and a few other tries, Myron ran 'PFQ 153' against the DMV database, and got a hit.

"Oh, wow." Myron said. "It's the number of an SPS light truck. The plate was reported stolen off the back of the truck three months ago, just at the start of Christmas season."

"Which jurisdiction took the stolen tag report?" I asked.

"Says here... Pottsville." Myron said. "The tag was issued by their county tag office, and the address was the SPS office in Pottsville."

"So, a stolen and altered car tag." I said. "SPS pickup truck. Okay, what about the car that ran into the Franklin's car. And the driver of it?"

"J.R. Barnes supervised the taking of that vehicle to the State Crime Lab," said Tanya Perlman, "and he will not be giving it up until he's done a very thorough workup on it. He's already seen what the Commander would call 'strangenesses'. First, it was a Buick of 1960s vintage. The car burned, and hotly, suggesting it was packed with explosives or flammables. The Franklin's car was an Audi, and that car plowed through the driver's side of it like it was nothing, and J.R. found out why... the front of the Buick was reinforced steel, and the front quarter panels were filled with concrete."

"Concrete?" asked Chief Moynahan disbelievingly.

"Yes sir." said Tanya. And the engine burned up, but it was clearly not an old 1960s engine. J.R. thinks it was a very powerful motor, like those found on cars used for illegal racing on the street. It may even have had a nitrous boost, but we don't know for sure just yet."

"It was just out of the corner of my eye, before I realized what I was seeing." I said. "But yeah, it could've been moving really fast. Any video footage of it at all?"

"No sir." said Myron. It's in the area south of BigPharmaCorp and north of Crown Chemicals and BOW Enterprises, and no roads from Town reach out that far to get to it."

"What about the car tag on the Demolition Derby car?" I asked. "And, once again, the driver of it?"

"The driver had no ID on his person." Tanya said. "It may have been in the car, and burned up, and we'll see if the Crime Lab comes up with anything. Fingerprints came up with nothing on local and State databases, and we've heard nothing back from the FBI database yet. The car tag is registered to Mr. Colburn, who lives on County Road 2. He reported the tag stolen off of his pickup truck a week ago."

I remembered Mr. Colburn; he'd called Police, which had led to the finding of the body of Jefferson Davis Jackson. (

Author's note: 'The Murdered Football Player', Ch. 01.

)

"Another stolen tag." I said. "Speaks volumes, does it not, Detectives?"

"Yes sir." said Joanne Warner. "They're going to great lengths to not be identified."

"Which adds to the theory of this being deliberate." said Teddy Parker.

"Yes, yes it does." I said. "Also, that SUV running away when a Police vehicle came up so quickly. My theory based on the limited data of my observations is that the SUV was a follow-up. If the crash had not have killed Frieda, the driver of that SUV or someone else inside it was going to kill her."

"Geez." muttered Teddy Parker. "Poor kid."

"But lucky kid that a Police vehicle came up so quick-leee." drawled Chief Moynahan. "I guess my question izzzzzz... if you think it's deliberate, does that mean the Franklins were being followed? And maybe were being followed earlier?"

"I'd have to think so," I said, "or someone knew where they were going and what route they were taking--- whoaaaa..." Reverie time.

"The gas leak report, sir?" asked Joanne.

"Yeahhhh." I said. "Guess that makes sense, now. They knew what route the Franklins were taking

because they forced that Bypass route to be taken!

"

"Makes sense." said Tanya Perlman. "No actual gas leak was found."

"I'll have to ask Frieda where they were going." I said. "I'm also going to have to ask her if she remembers seeing anything strange in the days before the Barker car crash, to try to get some idea for a motive to kill her."

"Or her mother." said Joanne Warner. "She was on Courthouse Square when Barker was killed, and she was in the car, too."

"That could be." I said. "But if you go back and replay the footage we have of the Barker crash as well as other footage and testimony, you'll see that Mrs. Franklin was a couple of tables westward of where Frieda was, at Barker's table. Frieda was petting Barker's dog when the car came flying up. It didn't swerve to hit Mrs. Franklin, it went right for Frieda, and Barker threw her out of the way and took the hit himself."

The room grew silent for a moment in remembrance of what Officer Barker had done. "Chief," Tanya finally said, breaking the silence, "if Commander Troy is right, would this make Barker's death an LOD death?" LOD meant 'line of duty', and it would be significant if it was.

"I don't knowwww." said the Chief. "But I'll be finding out, for surrrrrre."

"One last thing, before I go." I said. "What can you Detectives tell me about the Franklins themselves?" Joanne had a frantic look on her face. Parker's face wilted a little bit. Neither of them knew. My look at Captain Perlman connoted that this was a 'teachable moment'.

Leave it to Myron Milton to have the information, though, bailing my Detectives out. "Sir," he said, "this is just some quick initial data I got right after the car accident on College Street that killed Officer Barker. Mr. Franklin was a manager at Kestrel Motors. They make motors of all sizes, from the little ones in toy cars to ones that run power tools like miter saws." He gave the address.

"Hmm," I said, "that's north of the Crawford Mattress factory, northwest of what is now Ward Harvester Park, and directly to the north of Kestrel is... the BigAgraFoods warehouse... where..." I did not finish the sentence.

"Where Commander Ross was kidnapped from?" asked the Chief.

"Yes, that too." I said, halfway in a reverie. "But I was thinking about something else." Pulling myself back into reality, I said "Okay, what about Mrs. Franklin?"

"Well, let me finish on Mr. Franklin." Myron said. "He was respected as a manager, but didn't have any friends, such as golfing buddies, and he wasn't a member of any civic clubs like the Lions, Kiwanis, or Rotary clubs, nor were the Franklins members of any church that I could find. His only debts were his home and cars, and he paid off his credit cards every month."

"As to Mrs. Franklin," said Myron, "she did not socialize very much, either. She attended Ladies Auxiliary meetings sporadically, usually when they were hosting a candidate for political office, according to Mrs. Myrtle L. James, who tends to observe those kinds of things. Mrs. Franklin was sometimes active in political campaigns for local candidates; she did volunteer work for Della Harlow and Jenna Stiles at times."

"Hardly a reason to hit her car head-on, this far past the Elections." I said.

"Yes sir." said Myron. "Also, there

was

one incident that got some attention. My wife Mary called Elsie Gringer to get any gossip that she could. Elsie Gringer said that something had been brought to her attention about Mrs. Franklin: some months ago she, Mrs. Franklin, was very rude to young Susie Haskins when Susie asked if she wanted to buy some nails for rebuilding the Animal Shelter. Apparently Mrs. Franklin does not like dogs, and made that clear to Susie."

"And she made that clear to Frieda, as well." Joanne Warner said. "I remember reading that when Barker died, several witnesses on the Square remembered Frieda petting his dog, and her mother getting very angry at Frieda and telling her to come back to her table and stop petting the dog."

"Yes, I remember that, too." I said. "Good report, Lieutenant Milton. Captain Perlman, I'd like for your Detectives to do a good workup on the Franklins; let's see if anything, however improbable, comes up that might make either one a target, as opposed to Frieda herself."

"Yes sir." said Tanya, knowing that was an admonishment towards her and her Detectives for not having been more fully prepared to answer my questions...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I arrived at The Cabin at 2:00am. Laura was awake, typing up her report of what she'd seen and done at the accident scene, which she would submit to the TCPD. Bowser and Buddy were asleep on the floor of the greatroom... well, Bowser was pretending to be asleep but was covertly watching and listening to us.

Laura looked up at me as I came in, looking somber. "So, you think it was murder?" she asked me.

"Looks like it was deliberate." I said. "How's Frieda doing?"

"She's asleep. I gave her a mild sedative." Laura said. "Carole tried hard to comfort her, even brought Bowser over and said Frieda could pet him. Frieda asked if Bowser was Barky's dad, and Carole said yes. Frieda did pet Bowser, but then she started crying that her mother would never let her have a dog, and that she was petting Barky when Officer Barker threw her to safety and got hit himself. That's when Susie Haskins's mother brought Susie over."

"Oh?" I said.

"And there's more." Laura said. "Cindy, Callie, and Betsy are sleeping in the third bedroom." my wife said. "The boys are in the attic room on their Army cots. I have no idea why they love sleeping on those cots in their sleeping bags, but they do."

"They're boys." I said. "What about Carole, and Frieda, and Susie?"

"That's the other part of the story." Laura said. "Come on up."

In the second bedroom, which Molly usually used as her bedroom, there were three girls sleeping in the king-size bed: Frieda, Carole, and Susie Haskins. "Molly is in the basement room, sleeping on the futon down there." Laura whispered. I nodded.

Going back downstairs, Laura said "Susie's mother said Susie begged to be brought over. Cindy swore up and down that she never called Susie, but we were both glad Susie came over. When Susie got here, she talked to Frieda and helped calm her down, and I gave Frieda the sedative. Susie's mother said Susie could stay with Frieda tonight, and I said we were glad to have her sleep over. We put the girls to bed, then put the boys to bed. Bowser and Buddy decided to stay here with me."