Chapter II

elinda experienced the unfortunate meeting of Tack Guinn that morning upon her arrival into her cubicle at work.  She noticed a strong presence of unfamiliar cologne long before she stepped around the corner.  Musk in any cologne had always been quite disagreeable to her, and the wearer was sitting in her chair.  And he was casually nosing through her desk drawers.

To say she was was not happy when she looked into the eyes of Tack Guinn would have been an understatement.  "Obviously no one has ever told you it's not nice to pilfer through another's private belongings," she said with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

"Hi Melinda, I'm sure you know that what is in the office of the FBI is not private material.  Tack Guinn, ATF, at your service," came the response.

"I think you need a refresher course on good manners, common sense and cologne that is not so obnoxious," she retorted.

"Come now, let's not get off on the wrong foot.  We'll be seeing a lot of each other in the near future, and I'd like it to be as pleasant as possible," he countered.  "There's no reason we can't be friends."

With that, he vacated the chair, offered his hand for a friendly handshake and a card in the other.  Melinda did not want his cologne on her hand, so she took his card, glanced at it quickly, and tossed it into the wastebasket.  "With manners like that, I doubt we can be anything other than just acquaintances.  Besides, what does your department have in common with my department that requires us to be friendly?"  She wasn't giving an inch.

"Well, we certainly don't have to be on speaking terms for me to do my investigation.  Consider yourself duly warned.  He reached down, picked up the wastebasket, dumped it on her desk, rifled through the trash, pulled out his card and walked away.

"No two ways about it," she thought to herself.  "I definitely do not like him!"  With that, she raked the contents of the trash can back into place, used some cleanser on her hands, sat down in her chair and opened the drawer of her desk.  She pulled out the little mirror of the compact she kept to check her hair, and as she replaced it, she noticed something she'd never seen before.

On the underside of her desktop inside the drawer was a little shiny disk.  With her finger, she felt it and realized her desk had been bugged.  "Why that low down dog!" she exclaimed to herself under her breath.  "Imagine, bugging an FBI agent at her own desk!"

She got up and walked over to Lens' desk and noticed a note which said "Heading over to Will and Sharons' house.  She picked up her phone and started to dial Lens' number.  "Can I have a word with you Melinda?"

She turned to see Jake standing there and closed the phone.  "Melinda, there's a guy poking around in here from the ATF, and he's asking some questions as to how you know William, how long, etc.  Know anything about that?" he asked.

"I just met him," she said, then added "and I don't care for him!"

Jake grinned as he responded. "Yeah, me neither.  Just humor him and maybe he'll go away real soon.  Well, I have a full load today so I better get started."  He smiled and waved as he stepped away.

In less than five minutes Melinda had picked up her assignment for the day, relocked her desk and headed out the door.  She pressed the speed dial for Len's phone and after finding out where he was, headed out to Will and Sharons.  They had been on a short vacation wanting to do some renovating at their home and today was the last they would be off.

She pulled into the spot behind Lens' ride and wondered why he hadn't parked in the driveway like normal.  She then saw the tire marks in Will's newly laid sod and cringed.  They had ALL worked hard in getting that sod laid out so nicely.  For some reason, she had a good idea who had done that, and it turned out she was right.

Tack had left her office and came straight here.  It was evident why Len's car was parked where it was.  But why had he wanted to block Tack in?  One thing about it, Len would tackle anyone didn't matter how big they were.  If he thought he could, he'd put a scare in Tack.  And had he known Tack had just left Melindas' office, and pulled what he had, he would probably have punched Tack right in the kisser.  Probably a good thing he didn't know but he's about to.

She updated the group at the table as she sat down after pouring herself a glass of lemonade.  "Wow, that's good stuff Sharon.  A quick peck on Len and she asked how the meeting went with Tack.  "Just about like mine," she quipped then added "not only did he bug my desk, but he poured the contents of my trash can on my desk."

"What?  He dumped your trash can on top of your desk?"  Len was incredulous.  "Did you move the bug?"

"No, I left it in place.  But I think it would be wise to sweep the whole area to check for others.  And it might be wise to check our houses as well as our vehicles for bugs or trackers.  I think he's desperate, and I believe he's dirty and would create his own evidence if need be."

"He dumped my trashcan on my desk to let me know he could do about anything he wanted.  Oh, and because I'd thrown his card in the trash.  Do they have to buy their own cards in ATF?"

"No, it was just an excuse to be obnoxious using something you did against you," Sharon said.  "I can't imagine what he's going to do to get even with me after offering him some lemonade and then taking it back into the house without sharing.  It looks like Jake was giving him treatment of same kind too.  He was driving the 'biscuit cooker.'"

At that they all laughed.  The biscuit cooker was a car in which the A/C seldom worked, and had been that way ever since it came from the factory.  It had spent more time in the shop than it had being driven.  Because of the problem, few people drove it unless it was during the cool time of the year.

William was sitting quietly studying the situation.  At this point, they knew absolutely nothing as to what was going on.  But he was recalling how the ATF man was acting at their house that day of the police ring bust.   He quietly said, to himself more than the group, "If I recall correctly, the ATF agent was asking some pointed questions that day the police detective was busted.  The only question that has stuck with me was 'what happened to the murder weapons?'  Why such deep interest in those weapons?"

"He was talking to Lane Wardlow I believe."

"Wait a second!" Len interjected.  "I remember that, but it wasn't Tack."

"It wasn't?"  inquired Will.  "Then who was he?"

"That's right!  Len you were at Lanes' office that morning to attend the meeting, and when Will was hit on the head by one of the thugs who were cleaning out our house, you rode with him over here." Sharon said.

"Len.  Did you find out anything about the weapons?" Will said.

"No.  We didn't learn anything about the weapons until you gave their location under hypnosis.  Then Judge Baker sent someone to pick them up, and returned to the courtroom with them.  I never saw them, but I remember the Judge stating they would be put inside the bank vault for retrieval later.  He . . ."  Len was cut off mid sentence.

"You didn't see them?" William asked.

"No.  I don't think the Judge even saw them.  Who retrieved them?" Len asked.

"Walter Bension.  He came back into the courtroom with a locked briefcase which he handed to Lane.  Lane sent a note to the Bank President at the time requesting his presence, and gave him instructions as to the briefcase and for it to be picked up ASAP.  The bank president was not in the know as to the contents of the case.  He was merely told to lock it into storage.  Lane had the sense to make sure it was taken by an armored truck."   said Sharon as she filled in this bit of info.

"So, if that is what Tack is after, he's going to use the threat of arrest and charge of murder as leverage.  I wonder . . . is he after them for himself or for the Feds?"  Len posed the question to the group.

With that, Sharon dialed Lanes office and made an appointment of extreme importance and as soon as possible.  "We need to get ahead of the game on this she said.  I can't believe we all just forgot about the weapons used in the Crawly case.  But considering what they do, their power and in total silence, they would quickly become expendable for close assassination.  I believe this is of national security importance."  she finished.

In a rented room of a neighbor of Will and Sharons less than two hundred feet away, a man sat listening to the conversation.  He had gleaned a great deal about his project from this single conversation.  It was obvious that the group of FBI agents in the room were not in the know about the location of the weapons, but, Walter Bension was a good place to start!

Walter Bensions' life was about to get very troubled very fast.

© 2000 - 2025