The Protector
Chapter 9

Copyright© 2012 by terriblethom

Myrna made me a cup of coffee as I sat at my empty desk, wondering how our CASA files figured into the investigation. All of my grandfather's stuff had been in unmarked boxes, so anyone finding them wouldn't know what they were unless they took the time to sit for hours like I had and go through them.

The CASA files were what were worrying me because of their sensitive nature. The locations and addresses of several cases were written down, and would be a good tool for someone looking for a particular family or child. Sarah's were the same way, but hers contained personal case files on the mental evaluation part of a lot of the cases we had worked on. There was no way the Marshals could have missed what they were because of the big letters stamped on every file. I could understand them taking the weapons, even if the warrants had been rigged, but the files were completely separate from the shooting case, and never should have seen the light of day.

My thoughts were interrupted by a tapping noise I couldn't immediately identify. I looked around my study and heard it again. I looked at the window and a man in a suit was standing outside with his finger over his lips. He motioned for me to come outside and disappeared from my sight. I didn't have a weapon to grab so I reached under my desk and got my old combat stiletto I had taped to the leg. I went out the door leading to the small porch off my study, and found him sitting on the step behind the big bush waiting on me. I immediately figured he was trying to stay out of sight by the way he was hunched looking around. I went over and sat down beside him with my finger on the button of the stiletto waiting, to see if I was in any danger.

"Mr. Morgan, my name's Steve Ashton. I am undercover, working for the NSA. I was put in the Marshals Service to work for Dwight Medford, the supervisor you have nicknamed the runt."

"Why are you coming to me, Ashton? You are taking a big chance of being seen by coming here."

"I know that, Mr. Morgan, but if you will shut up a minute I will tell you why I am here and sneak out before someone sees me. The runt took all your case files to his home instead of booking them as evidence. He belongs to the National Free Church, the same group you tangled with out in Texas a couple of years ago. I have worked my way up to being his number two. Right now he is looking for someone, and you are the only one who knows where she is. He wants the girl's mother, who you freed from their compound. His raid on your house was his excuse to get his hands on your files. Along with several of his men, he is some kind of an enforcer for the Church. They want the mother bad. Her brother is pushing it from the compound in Maryland, where the girl is right now. She has been married and has a kid with one of the leaders there. I know she is only fifteen, but that's their way and God help anyone who tries to do anything about it. I shouldn't be here, but I wanted you to know. It's time he was put out of business and this whole mess cleared up. My superiors told me to stay out of it but I wanted you to know. Now, I am leaving and you haven't seen me. No, I don't have the luxury to answer any questions right now. I will contact you again as soon as I think it's safe. Good bye Mr. Morgan."

He walked away before I could react. I went back in the house and sat down at my desk. The files didn't contain the girl's mother's whereabouts or address because I never filed it after the girl was taken the second time. I had kept all of that in my hiding place that only I knew about. The whole file was there along with pictures and dates and addresses of everyone involved. I had several cases like that hidden there because of the danger involved to the subjects in each case. I had always kept these kinds of cases separate from the others and always would. Sarah hadn't been involved so she wouldn't know anything about it or have anything in her files either. Looks like the runt lost his job and went to a lot of trouble for nothing. He would have more trouble when it was discovered the files taken from the house had never been logged in as evidence. The ones he had were every day run of the mill cases that had already been solved or settled in court. Knowing Sarah like I did, I already knew she wouldn't write anything down that was sensitive in her home files. She had shown them to me once and all her stuff was mostly notes on meetings and some kind of made up code about some of her active cases. I already knew her stuff was in the Clerk of Courts office in the big safe there. It all came back to the National Free Church, which I had already lost one kid to. But thanks to Ashton, I now knew where she was. I still had a few weeks before my shoulder healed, and then I was going to get back into that case. It still haunted me, even after all this time.

The phone rang and it was Jerry on the other end. He didn't sound too happy with me when I answered.

"Jon, there is no record of any files or paperwork from your house being booked in. I am on the other line with the Head of the Marshals Service and he wants to know what you're talking about."

"Jerry, tell him the runt didn't book them as evidence, but took all of them to his home. I just got a call from a snitch of mine who said he watched them carry a truck load of boxes into his house. I suggest you get the FBI involved in this since they are all CASA files. I think the Marshals Service would be better off to bow out of this before it blows up in their faces. I also want my personal pistols returned immediately as I have no defense if my house is attacked."

"Jon, I will pass the word on, but it is going to stir up some hard feelings against you. As for your personal weapons, I was told they would be returned after they have been inspected along with your antique fire arms. The Marshals don't want any trouble over those guns. The press is already sniffing around, and they have had several calls from some powerful Senators who control their budget. They are all walking on eggs right now because of the way this whole thing has been handled."

"Where the hell is my truck and Sarah's car, Jerry?"

"You mean they took those too? Damn let me get on it and get them back to you right away. What the hell didn't they take, Jon?"

"They also took all of Myrna's papers, and a lot of everyone else's personal stuff including all of the girl's CDs. Jerry, you have four more hours before I start making calls."

"I know, Jon, I know."

He hung up. I was smiling at his apparent frustration over this case. I called Bill and asked how his connections were for me to buy a pistol from a private individual as soon as possible. I went on to tell him about what Jerry had told me, saying I wanted a gun right away because we were defenseless as it was right now.

"Jon, I have a friend that lives about five miles from you. He sells at all the gun shows because he hates all the red tape. He has a lot of top of the line weapons, and I am sure he can find something you will like. He isn't cheap, but his guns are not registered and all of them are clean. He is a little weird when it comes to strangers, but I am sure I can convince him to come see you. He only deals in cash. Jon, how many years have we known each other?"

 
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