| * * THE SECRET ORIGIN OF BEAGLE BOY * * by BEAGLE BOY |
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| ************ Part 4 ************ "That's odd," muttered Brian. "First, Paul stops reporting in, and now Lucien doesn't answer. I wonder where they are." "You'll be joining them soon enough," promised a voice from behind. Brian didn't even have time enough to turn around before he was laid unconscious. "James," exclaimed Allen, embracing his friend. "I just wish it were under better circumstances." "Me, too," replied James. "Let me introduce you to some friends of mine that decided to join me. I figured we might be able to use some of the help. First off, there is Anthony. He's the leader of the team I'm on. Next is Desmond. He's the deputy leader, along with Candace and Michael, but we call him Lash. Then there's Mark and Michael, but we call him Cru. Then our third Michael, and Sasha. People, this is my best friend from college, James." Greetings were exchanged, and James asked Allen to join him in his office. Allen told the other members to grab something to eat. It had been a long trip, and they needed to keep up their strength. He also suggested finding hotel rooms. James, however, refused to let that happen. He offered his keys to Anthony, along with directions to his house. It was a big house with plenty of rooms and space. Anthony and the team thanked him, and made their way out of the police station. When the door shut, and Allen and James were left alone, Allen noticed a severe change. The blood had run out of James face, his shoulders drooped like he had the weight of the world on them, and he looked 20 years older. Before Allen could ask anything, James reached down, pulled a sheet of paper out, and handed it to him. "Oh no," moaned Allen. "It's true, isn't it? It's really him. Man, we have to get you and your family out of here!" James pointed at the letter, tears welling up in his eyes. "James. I ... I don't know what to say. I'm willing..." James waved him off. He finally managed to get his voice under control. "No. That's not why I asked you here. I asked you here because I need your help to stop him. If I turn you over, then he kills you AND my son. I need you here as a friend and an anchor." "You knew he would be after you if he ever come back. You were the one that convinced me to turn myself in right before another rash of murders. That cleared me. He'll never forgive you for that. He will see to it that you pay. I give you my word. We'll get your son back. And we will put an end to this. Permanently." "Promise," James asked, voice thick with emotion. "I promise," came the firm, unwavering reply. The team managed to find the house just on the outskirts of town. Although, for some of them, the term "town" might be too generous. There was only a small population there when school was not in session. This being the summer months, very few students were around for college. As everybody unloaded their gear, Anthony called them all back together. A quick vote was taken, and everybody agreed to use real names for the duration of this mission. Or, in Newcru's case, a shortened nickname. The next item of business was to find something to eat. They returned to a small cafe they passed about 3 miles from James' house. The smells were what made small town cafes so great. The aroma of fried foods, and grilled meats filled the air. They were seated, and the waitress took their drink orders. Some had tea, others had water, and a few had sodas. Chicken fried steak was the specialty of the house. Three of them got burgers, two chicken fried steaks, one club sandwich, one grilled cheese, and two smoked pit barbecue platters. Seven minutes later, everyone was being served. "See," grinned Allen, walking through the door. "I told you I knew where to find 'em." "Haven't lost your touch, I see," James grinned back. "James, aren't you going to introduce me to your guest," asked the waitress. Allen held up a hand to stop James from responding. "Give me the usual," ordered Allen. "You must have me confused with someone else, dear," frowned the Pam. "Cheese burger, medium rare, american and swiss cheese, with three jalapeno's split in half and stuck in the melted in the cheese. Lettuce, tomatoes, pickles." "And a Dr. Pepper! Allen," she squealed, as she hugged his neck. "I'm sorry. Do I know you," mocked Allen. "You look GREAT! What have you been doing? Where have you been? What brings you ... oh," she stopped short, looking at James. "Are these your friends?" "Yeah, Beautiful. Now, how about breakfast," Allen winked. "You got a date tonight?" "Nope." "Then I'll add onions to the order, too," Pam said, bouncing off to the kitchen. James and Allen joined the rest. Allen pulled out a photo copy of the note James had shown him back at the station and offered it to Anthony. Before he could say a word, Allen shook his head. Part of this note was not to be common knowledge. Anthony silently handed the note back, his mind reeling with questions already. Once the meal was finished, Allen started to pay at the register. "Money's no good here, sugar." With that, Pam reached over and grabbed a startled Allen behind the neck. To the shock of the team, she planted a kiss on him that would have made most people jealous. Cancace started to rise out of her seat, but Anthony and Desmond grabbed her and sat her back down. "Give him a break," whispered Des. Once the lip-lock was finally broken, Allen was as red as Pam's lipstick. He just hung his head as the cat calls, whistles, cheers and jeers erupted from the table behind him. Once he was able to compose himself, Allen turned around, still red. Chewing gum. "Blast it, Pam! You KNOW I don't like the spearmint gum!" "I know, sugar! Been waitin' a long time for that!" With that, Allen left enough cash to pay the tab. And leave enough for a generous tip. "I told you..." "I know. Just consider it a tip." The group filed out of the cafe and back in to their respective vehicles. Anthony took Allen and James aside, out of earshot of the others. "I want to know about that note. Why are you really here," Anthony asked Allen. "And what are we getting involved in," he shot at James. "I know what the letter said. I also know something else about that letter. Now, when do we find out what's going on? ALL of it, kid." "Anthony, the note says the killer has James' son. I can't turn my back on him." "You're not giving yourself up for ..." "THAT is MY decision," Allen growled. He recovered nearly instantly. "Anthony, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to come out like that." "Anthony," started James, with a sigh. "Allen is here because he is a friend of mine. We've known each other since college. During college, there were a rash of murders." "Hold on a minute," said Anthony. With that, he told everything Tsarin and Shady had discovered through Tsarin's seaches. "I would guess that the reason the both of you are being targeted is for clearing Allen's name the first time around. At least that takes care of James. Allen, I only have two questions for you. One, why you? Two, why is that letter you showed me written in you handwriting?" "The only thing I can figure out is that maybe the killer has something against me. He has managed to copy my handwriting. I don't know how. I don't know exactly why I was ever involved in this in the first place. To my knowledge, I've never even offended somebody enough to try to frame me for murder. Anthony, that's part of the reason you are here. I'm hoping that maybe the team can uncover something we've missed." "It's only fair that the rest of the team know about the letter. And anything else you know. I'm not asking them to risk their lives if either of you refuse to hide anything from us. And if, at any point, I find out EITHER of you are hiding ANYTHING from us, I'm hauling the rest of the team back home. You got that?" The two nodded. "Now what? Where do we go from here?" "We've got evidence back at the station. I can pull part of that if you like. I'd personally like Allen to go over the kidnapping scene. If you want, some of you can even look over the latest murder scene." "HEY," yelled Sasha, as he ran up to the trio. "Beag ... uhh ... I mean Allen, can I go with you?" "Beag," grinned James. "You never change, do you, kid?" "Sure, come on," sighed Allen, ignoring James. "James, why don't me and Sasha go check out the kidnapping scene. You can take some of the others to the office and let them go over part of the evidence, and then take the rest of them to the last murder. You want to meet up back at your place? Shouldn't take us long. Once we finish up, we'll get stuff started for supper, if you don't mind." They split up and took off. Allen and Sasha took off for the park across from the school. Mark, Michael, and Cru wound up sifting through part of the evidence. That left James, Anthony, Candace, Des, and Lash to go over the latest crime scene. "Hey," called out Michael. "Look at this! You aren't going to believe this!" "Fingerprints," asked Cru. "I've got them here, too," chimed in Mark. "What do you make of it," Michael questioned. "We know it's fairly easy to copy fingerprints. We've seen that happen time after time with wax and gloves. And there are a ton of other ways. But that is generally used for just fingerprints," observed Cru. "And we've got full hand prints on some of the stuff here," said Mark. "Are there any .... yeah! Video tapes! Let's see what the security camera's picked up." The machine sprang to life as Michael slid in the tape. "Look," said Michael. "Is that...." "It can't be! Look at the date stamp," said Cru, pointing at the screen. "DAMN! You know what this means. The camera can't lie. If this is a forgery, then it's one of the best I've ever seen." Pausing, Mark pulled out his wallet, and found something that looked like a credit card. "Might as well do this." Cru and Michael pulled out their wallets and followed suit. These were transponder cards. They are able to transmit locations to sattelites so they can always be found. The three verified that each had their card. Mark gave his to Michael, and Cru gave his to Mark. "You two keep looking and see what else you can find. I need to find Captain James." Cru and James agreed, and Mark made his way out of the police station. He found the van they were using and pulled out the keys for it, and pressed the button to unlock it. It chirped once. The second chirp was an explosion. The van went up in a ball of flames. That emptied the police station. Everyone rushed out to help, but there was none. "MARK," screamed Michael. A ball was forming in the pic of Cru's stomach. Who would be next? This was certainly no accident. What was that? Something he saw in the corner of his eye. He looked almost behind everyone else, in the wooded area behind the police station. He nudged Michael, as they both eased to the back of the police station. "What did the two of you find out," asked Michael. The blood drained from Cru's face when he realized Sasha wasn't around. "It's not ..." But Cru wasn't able to finish the thought. Before Michael could react, he, too, was hit in the head with a sickening thud. |
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