Chapter 19
Tony and I had not had time to practice our shooting for more than a month. We’d both been too busy in the aftermath of the Winslow/Whitaker case. Tony had also needed time to heal. We figured out a good time for both of us, and met at the indoor range on the SW Loop, where we were both members.
“So, Tony, now that you’re a lieutenant, have they figured out what division to assign you to?”
“Robbery/homicide for now, but we all float wherever we’re most needed depending on our case load, same as always.”
I whistled.
“I always knew you were the best detective in that division. Congratulations.”
“Yeah well, we’ll see.”
“What’s the problem?”
He was silent for a moment, as he pushed .40 caliber rounds into a clip.
“I never wanted to be a paper pusher. I don’t think I’m very good at conducting meetings. I don’t like having to try to figure out the politics of the job. I know I’m going to have to face some TV cameras again. There’s just a lot more busy-work than I’m used to, and I don’t like being ‘the Boss.”
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” I suggested.
He smiled.
“On the other hand, I like the pay grade, and because I’m always on call, I get more flexibility with my schedule.”
“It’s good to be the king.” I agreed.
We both grinned
“How do y’all like your new office?”
“You should come by and see it. Our door is always open to those who protect and serve.”
“…Donuts, do you have any donuts? I like donuts.” Tony said, wringing his hands.
We both shot better than we expected to. I was concerned about the occasional ‘flyer.’ Out of fifty shots, I had six rounds hit the target outside the ten ring. They were kind of random in their placement. I couldn’t be sure if it was caused by my ammunition or my shooting.
“It’s a poor workman who blames his tools,” Tony observed.
When we got outside, I saw the SUV parked a few rows away from where I had parked.
Tony and I are both in the habit of scanning everything around us, wherever we are. We’re not really looking for anything; we’re just staying aware of everything. The process is sometimes referred to as “soft or hard eyes”. “Soft” eyes look at the big picture, while “hard” eyes focus on specific subjects, movement, or details.
Tony noticed when I focused on the SUV for a second. He saw me frown.
“Is there a problem, J.W.?”
“I don’t know Tony, probably not, but that SUV has been following me, for days.”
“You want me to run the plate?”
I looked at him, and chuckled.
“I thought you made it pretty clear, you’re not my conduit of data from the DMV.”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you. I know you won’t abuse my trust, or my position. If I can help you, I will, J.W.”
I thought about it for a moment.
“I appreciate your faith in me. How’s your faith in God?”
He grinned.
“It’s growing. Do you want my help or not?”
“Naw, I think I’ll get this figured out on my own. Thanks, though, Tony.”
Tom Montgomery had asked us to do some surveillance, so we were doing as he asked. I had assigned Gary to do the surveillance. He had been watching the subject since Wednesday. Using a directional boom mike, mounted on a video camera, Gary recorded and filmed a meeting with a man in a suit and tie. I was watching the video of the two men walking down the street.
Man in suit: “How’s it going?”
Subject: “He’s still working it. I just got him started watching him.”
Man in suit: “How long will that continue?”
Subject: “I don’t know, but not long. There’s probably nothing to see.”
Man in suit: “Can you get him to go to a particular place, at a particular time?”
Subject: “Probably, it might depend on where and why.”
A car went by in front of the camera, and the microphone recorded the sound of the car.
Man in suit: “…him that … will be…”
Another car went by in front of the camera, and the microphone only picked up the sound of that car.
Man in suit: “I’ll call you with the details. Just get him there.”
They walked a few more feet to the corner, where they parted company. Gary continued to watch the subject until he returned to his parked car.
I considered what I had just watched.
The meeting had been strictly business. It had been held outdoors in a public setting. The two men barely looked at each other, and could have been just a couple of businessmen, casually meeting as they walked down the street. The whole segment of video lasted less than five minutes. The conversation only lasted fifty two seconds.
It told me everything I needed to know.
The subject was Tom Montgomery. He was working for the man in the suit.
I knew the man in the suit.
I would have to revisit a previous case.
As it turned out, I had to postpone the visit because of my next appointment.
Mr. and Mrs. Drew Murphy were good people who tried to be good parents, but their daughter was not the sharpest tool in the shed. Like many girls her age, she thought she was all grown up.
She thought wrong.
It can take a lifetime to grow up. Sometimes people grow old along the way. Sometimes they don’t get the chance to grow up, or grow old. Some mistakes are fatal. Lori Murphy made a mistake, she fell in love.
Her 20 year old “boyfriend” turned out to be a loser and abuser. At sixteen years old, Lori woke up in Dallas, wondering how she had let him pimp her out. She had called home only once. She was in dire straits.
“We just want her to come home.”
“Yes ma’am, I understand. Does she want to come home? How do y’all imagine this will turn out?”
Mrs. Murphy was quiet for a moment.
It’s hard for a parent to clearly see. Parents love. Parents sacrifice. Parents provide, but it can be hard for a parent to see. A parent’s vision can be clouded by their dreams for the future and their memories of the past.
“We understand what you’re saying. We’re hoping she’s realized her mistake, and really does want to come home,” her dad said.
Parents also hope.
Love hopes.
“OK. Here’s the thing. I can find your daughter. I can bring her home to you, but I can’t promise she’ll stay. I can’t promise she’ll be the same girl y’all remember. She may be damaged in ways we can’t predict. She may need professional medical, spiritual and/or psychiatric help. If you understand what I’ve told you, and you’re willing to take the chance, I’ll take the case. But, I repeat, I can’t make any promises about who the girl will be, when I bring her back to Tyler.”
“She’s our baby girl. What would you do?”
My mission on earth had prevented me from experiencing the joys and sorrows of being a parent. My time on earth had exposed me to generations of parents.
“OK, I just wanted to make sure you both understand the implications and complications of this course of action.”
“What else can we do?”
“You could just wait. Maybe she will come home on her own.”
They looked at each other and then down at the floor.
“She can’t. She told us she wants to come home, but that man won’t let her. He watches her constantly. She’s afraid, I mean really terrified. She sounds awful. She sounds like she’s given up,” her mom said.
“Have you contacted the Dallas police?”
“We did. They were very understanding. They said they saw this kind of thing far t
oo often. They promised to look for her, and said they would call us when they found her. That was ten days ago.”
I nodded, and said, “They have officers who are familiar with the streets and the girls working them. They’ll do what they can. It could take some time. If she’s not still in Dallas, if she’s in Ft. Worth, Arlington, or some other part of the Metroplex, the word may not get out.”
My first step was to call the Dallas P.D.