Ginny B - Cover

Ginny B

Copyright© 2021 by Vonalt

Chapter 27: Planning for the Worst and Hoping for the Best

The next morning we got up late and it was just before 9:30 AM we were ready to pull out and head for Chicago. By 1 PM we were ready for fuel stop and food break so we stopped just outside of Davenport Iowa. After we filled up with gas we stopped at a local sandwich shop and ordered a couple of sub sandwiches we could eat at the rest stop just on the other side of Davenport at the Illinois state line visitor’s center. We were now just a couple of hours from home and we were both anxious to be there.

Over the meal at the picnic table we talked about our plans for the rest of the week. Being on a trip is great but it is better to get back in to a routine that you know and are comfortable with.

I wanted to know what Karen’s plans were once we were back so I asked her.

“Do you want me to drop you off at your old apartment?” I asked figuring that was where she would want to be to start packing so she could her things into the town house.

“What was that you said, H-U-S-B-A-N-D?”

She didn’t to say another thing cause I knew exactly what she intended by the way she drew out and emphasized husband.

“So I guess you will want to go back to your old place sometime this week to pack and get your things to move to the townhouse then,” I said.

“For once you are correct,” she answered and laughing at me.

“Before I forget I had my motorcycle and my new car shipped to the townhouse. So if you are there and see some big truck pull in and some strange men unloading a car into our drive.”

“What car did you get this time?” she asked.

“What else but a canary yellow VW Beetle.” I responded. “Only this time this Beetle is newer and had a more powerful engine. And you will love this. It has a manual transmission so it can get better gas mileage.”

“That is not the truth and you know it,” she huffed. “You got one with a manual transmission to keep me from driving it.”

“Why would you even think that? My lovely dear wife of mine.” I smiled. “You drove the other VW Beetle with no problems.”

“Yes, but it was an automatic,” she whined “That is different from a stick shift. It’s hard to shift gears with a manual especially on an incline.”

“Well its either that or you walk.” I teased. “Walking is good exercise you know. Help you keep your lovely figure, my dear.”

“I want an annulment!” she pouted.

“That can be arranged” I countered.

“I’ll be quiet,” she said still pouting.

We were both laughing after that exchange. It was all said in jest, but I think she caught on that if that is what she wanted. It could be arranged and I was being serious.

Shortly before five PM we pulled in to the drive of the townhouse. We both got out and stretched to get the kinks out. The bus’s seats were padded well but sitting for so long took its toll on us. We took several minutes to stretch out and work the different muscle groups in our shoulders and backs.

Then I walked over to the townhouse to unlock it so we could carry our things into the house.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Karen asked. “I would be highly insulted if you didn’t do it.

I looked at her as if I didn’t have a clue as to what she was talking about. I put my hands up in the classic I have no idea what you mean pose.

“Typical man not a single romantic bone in your body,” she groused. “Now what is it you are supposed to do with your new wife when you first get home?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Grab you by your hand and rush you up to the bedroom and have my way with you perhaps. Am I close?”

“You jerk get over here and carry me across the threshold.” she said utterly frustrated by my comment.

I laughed and picked up her up and did as she asked.

“Oh my poor back, I’ll need to visit a chiropractor now,” I said laughing in mock pain.

“You know something, you can be a real jerk at times,”

“Yes and you love me for it too,” I responded.

We spent ten minutes carrying everything in that we would need to launder and any food that was left in the bus. After it was cleaned out I moved the bus to the covered parking area for my townhouse and parked it next to my pickup truck. I was going to have to find storage facility where I could keep it in a covered storage area. As much money I spent for it I wanted it to last and not rust away like it would if I left it exposed to the elements.

After we had everything carried in and the laundry started I went into the study to call Agent Foster to let him know we were back in town and I was ready for my gun lessons. On the third ring he answered and I told him we were back in town. First I asked about the status on Ginny B. Nothing new to report. Then we got on about the lessons and the firearms he had selected for me to try. It was agreed that I would meet him the following day at the FBI Field Office. From there we would both go to a range where we would spend a couple of hours going over the basics of safe gun handling and what would be required for me to get the necessary paper work completed to carry concealed in Illinois and in Cook County.

I asked if he wanted to stop by sometime in the near future when Camilla was with him. If he was still going out with her that is. He answered that in the affirmative that she comes down to Chicago one weekend a month and they spent it together. I then asked if this was getting serious. His response was he wasn’t ready to settle down just yet and when he was I would be the second person to know. I laughed at him over the phone. He had no idea how deep he was in already. I told him then I would see him tomorrow afternoon and disconnected.

After his call I debated making another call, this one to my parents. I wasn’t sure why I even bothered I knew it would end badly as the others previously had. I admit that I was the fault of that from my previous avoidance of them for almost two years but there was a reason for that. It could be summed up in one word, Ginny. It was strange how one young woman could cause so much trouble and pain for so many. Well I was their son and they deserved to know that I was now married to Karen. I was prepared to hear my mother tell me how I had humiliated her at the park that Saturday. She was right I did but at the same time I wasn’t prepared to take that step.

I decided to make the call and dialed the number.

After five rings someone picked up the phone but did not answer. Strange, I thought.

Finally I heard my mom’s voice somewhat shaky say “Hello.”

Something didn’t sound right and I asked. “Is this Clark’s Sunoco Filling Station?”

My mom answered it in a still shaky voice, “You mis-dialed that number. It ends with a 20 instead of the 02 that you did dial.”

Mom knew it was me and she was given a clue something was up at their house. The filling station had long closed down.

“Thank you for telling me,” I said and hung up.

Ginny was at my parents house I was almost positive she was.

I called Agent Foster back immediately.

“Hello, Foster,” he said.

“Foster, its me. Ginny is at my parents house I am almost sure she is.” I almost shouted.

“What makes you think that?” he answered back.

“Cause I could tell by my mom’s voice she was under duress.” I said. “Plus she gave me a clue that only a member of our family would know. You need to get someone over there right now before she hurts my folks.”

“OK I am right on it,” Foster said. “Stay by your phone in case your mom calls you back. And if she does you call me, understand.”

“OK,” I said and hung up.

For the next two hours I stayed close to the phone worried myself sick about my parents’ well being. Questions kept popping up like, how was she able to travel three hundred miles from Chicago unnoticed, had Ginny harmed my parents or just frighten them. I got to the point where I started to wear a path in the hall carpet. Karen was genuinely concerned for me and my parents. I suggested she call her grandma and ask that she stay with friends or relatives until Ginny B had been caught for her own safety.

Karen had just gotten off the phone when the phone rang. I rushed over to pick it up. I felt like I had a case of intestinal Hiroshima about to go off I was that wound up.

“Hello,” I answered.

“She got away and your parents were roughed up some but they will be OK,” Agent Foster said. “Now I want you to do me a favor. Pack enough clothes for a couple of days and drive that new toy of yours down here to the FBI Field Office. We are going to put you two up for a few days for your guys’ safety.”

“You think that’s necessary?” I questioned. “Not sure if Karen will go for that. We haven’t spent our first night here as husband and wife.”

“Look my friend, Ginny knows where you live and has visited you once already. Do you want to take a chance of her visiting again. You have a wife now to think about,” he answered

“Give us an hour and we will be there.”

I told Karen what Agent Foster called about and she was relieved as I was about my parents. And she wasn’t real happy about going to stay for a couple of days at a safe house. She wanted to be with me in ours. So we rushed around packing what we could and ran out the door to the VW Bus. I figured if Ginny was watching or someone was watching for her they wouldn’t recognize the bus.

A little over an hour later we pulled up to the FBI Field Office Building and went to the secure parking area and then on up to the floor where Agent Foster’s unit was. Foster saw us as we walked in and waved us over. He was on the phone and couldn’t speak right then. He pointed at some chairs and motioned for us to sit down. We waited almost fifteen minutes for him to end his phone call.

Karen was fidgeting worse than a 5 year old in church, I figured her patience was wearing thin. Finally Foster ended his call and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked up and motioned for us to come over to his desk.

“That was the sheriff where your parents live.” Foster said. “After roughing up your folks she took off in your mother’s car. There is BOLO for her now as we speak.”

“How long ago was the last sighting of her?” Karen asked. “I want to be long gone from where she thinks we will be.”

“What about our jobs? I can’t miss work without a reason.” Karen said with concern. “I have people who depend on me for the medical care.”

“Relax Karen, we will have someone with you during your shifts at the hospital. You will be as safe as we can possible make it. And we will do the same for him. When he is the class there will be at least two agents posing as students who will watch out for him.”

“What a way to start a marriage,” Karen lamented. “Looking over our shoulders for a crazed ex-girlfriend intent on seeking revenge against a former boyfriend and having her coming after me for taking what she thinks is hers. This sounds like a plotting for a slasher film. This isn’t supposed to be happening.”

“Let me make one more phone call and then you can follow me to the safe house we have available. Generally we and the US Marshall’s Service try to stash people in the Witness Protection Program on a temporary basis.”

“Go down to the first floor and grab a soft drink or something my treat” Agent Foster said. “Just tell Mary to put it on my tab”

We did as Foster asked us to do and had the attendant put it on his tab. We sat down at a nearby table and slowly drank our sodas and Karen reached out for my hand to hold.

“if I knew that being married to you would be this much of a problem I would have been the one running from the ceremony instead of you,” said a smiling Karen.

“It still wouldn’t be that difficult to have it annulled if you continue feeling that way. But then you would give up all rights to the loot that I now have.” I said teasing her back. “I am sure cousin Sadie wouldn’t mind taken over for you.”

“Keeping talking buster you will have two crazed ex’s after you wishing to do you harm,” Karen teased back.

By this time Agent Foster came down looking for us came over to the table.

“You two ready to find a home for the night?” he asked.

“Lead on Macbeth” I answered him. “I want to get some rest, We could have camped out in your parking lot in the bus but I seriously doubt we would have much privacy.”

“What bus?” Foster asked. “You buy a converted bus?”

“You will have to just wait and see,” I replied.

“Going to be dark soon and I want you under wraps before that.” Foster said.

Karen and I got up and we followed him out to the parking lot.

When he saw the VW Bus Camper he just rolled his eyes and muttered, “Damn hippie college professor and his rolling sex palace.” Just loud enough so that I could hear it.

“You are just jealous and here I was going to let you use it when you and Camilla go on your honeymoon to the NRA convention.” I replied to his snarky comment.

“Seriously though, my friend that is the best reconditioning of a VW camper I have ever seen.” Foster commented.

“It isn’t a reconditioning it is a complete rebuild. The company I bought it from strips it down to the frame and rebuilds it from the pan up.”I said. “They use new fabricated parts where needed or use like new original old stock when necessary. It cost enough that is for sure. Plus I bought another VW bug the same color as the other VW I had.”

Agent Foster turned and looked at me with a questioning look wanting to but not asking the question where did I get all this money all of a sudden.

Karen beat him to it, “My hubby has a brain that some people in Seattle had a reason to use. Like in three million reasons.”

Foster’s mouth gaped open and I turned to him smiling and shaking my head in the affirmative.

“You can tell me later we need to get moving” Foster said.

Foster got in his car and put it in gear and headed for the exit. We followed him and had a car with a couple of agents bringing up the rear. We followed him out to Naperville using the outer belt. Getting off at the Naperville exit we followed Agent Foster through town to a housing development. He turned into a cul-de-sac and then into the driveway of what was known as a McMansion. We also turned into the drive. The other car parked on the street in front of the house to keep watch.

Agent Foster got out of his car and motioned for Karen and I to follow him. He walked to the front door and using a key opened it. The three of us walked into the front foyer and watched as he deactivated the house’s alarm.

“I am going to open the garage door and I would like for you to drive your VW into the garage. That was we can keep your presence here more secure in case someone recognizes your vehicle,” Foster said. “As few people know that you are here the better. No sense in adverting.”

“Our tax dollars at work I assume,” I said. Looking around at the upscale interior.

“Actually a drug dealer confiscation by federal court order. We, the DEA and the US Marshall’s Service share this facility. A nice place to stash a witness for a few days. Way cheaper than booking a hotel room with room service.” Foster explained.

“How long do you think we will have to be here?” asked Karen.

“Till we capture Ginny” Foster responded.

The way Karen stiffened in response I knew she was not real happy about that.

“What about work?” Karen asked. “Will I have a detail hanging around me in the ER? We have enough bodies to get in the way. Or should I just quit and be a housewife watching soaps all day?”

“Karen, we want to be as transparent as possible. We are working with the hospital’s security department to make you as safe as possible and still not being a presence that interferes with you doing your job,” said Foster.

“And as for you my friend, we are working with the university’s campus police to keep you safe as well. The school’s administration at first wanted to let you go but considering your credentials and the possibility of all sorts of federal lawsuits caved. They are fully on board with our providing you security. Though I do think you need to cover your back with dealing with that bunch. I wouldn’t trust them.” he added.

“To use a Reagan-ism ‘Trust But Verify” any dealings with the school’s admin.” I quipped.

“You got it. They are your typical bureaucrats, so treat them as such,” said Foster.

So far the next couple of days we went the same established routine. Karen and I would stagger our departure times and each of us would walk out of the house surrounded by a phalanx of SWAT officers. Then get in the back of a SUV with two heavily armed officers in front followed by another SUV containing a SWAT team. Each day the forty minute drive to campus was taken via a different route so we did not show a routine of travel if we were being observed.

At the university I had an established work routine when I was in class there were two security team members who were sitting in positions where they could observe the students and the exits. Each was armed and connected to the rest of the security team by an ear piece and a hidden radio on their person. When I was in my office there was at least one security team member constantly on patrol in the corridor outside my office watching for anything suspicious. Later each afternoon I was followed closely by my on campus security detail to the waiting SUV and driven away. Each time instead of driving straight home they delivered me into the capable hands of Agent Foster for a crash course in firearm safety and shooting skills. After a class in firearm safe handling he led me to the range where he went over the basics of handling a revolver and a single stack 9mm semi automatic pistol.

First he handed me a Smith and Wesson Bodyguard 38 special and a speed loader of ammunition. He then had me load the revolver. I laid the revolver on the counter and put on my eye and ear protection. At Foster’s command I picked up the revolver and aimed it at the human outline target that was approximately 21 feet away. After shooting all five rounds as quickly as I possibly could, I put down the revolver and pushed the control that brought the target to the shooting station. All five rounds were in the ten ring.

“Pretty good shooting for a first timer,” said Foster. “Now load the revolver again and run a new target out and lets see that shooting ability one more time.

He had me do it a few more times before he had me switch to the 9mm semi auto pistol, a Star Model BM. I fired several magazines of ammunition with it and but I wasn’t as accurate with it as I was the revolver.

After a quick consult Foster and I both felt a revolver would be a better choice for me to carry. So for the next couple days after my classes, Foster had me shooting the revolver standing, sitting, kneeling and laying on the floor. The next thing on the agenda would be how I would carry the revolver. He had me carry it in my pocket, too slow drawing. Next we tried it in an inside my waistband of my pants both on my strong side and what was called appendix carry. I quickly vetoed appendix carry as it left the muzzle of the snubbie revolver pointing at the mid section. In my opinion there would be too great of a chance I would shoot myself carrying it that way. We finally agreed that carrying it in a holster on my belt would be the most practical and safest for me. I would wear a cover garment to keep it concealed. A cover garment was simply an untucked shirt that was worn not tucked into my pants as I normally would wear a shirt. A polo shirt or even a guayaberas styled shirt would work in the summer and a sweater or sport jacket in the fall and winter.

Friday afternoon Foster showed up at my office with an official envelope and handed it to me. Inside it was all the necessary paperwork that would allow me to carry. I thanked him and told him how much I appreciated his doing this for me. What came next surprised me. He then handed me a shopping bag and said it was a gift from the bureau. Inside the shopping bag was a holster, a box of self defense ammunition and a blue Smith and Wesson box with a Bodyguard Revolver. I was overwhelmed.

“The bureau expects great things from you in the future my friend,” Foster said. “We want to protect our assets. It is only sensible to make sure you are armed.”

“Tell everyone involved how appreciative I am for the bureau’s kind gesture.” I said. “I am humbled by their generosity.”

That weekend Karen and I went shopping for a new wardrobe for me so that I could carry my revolver concealed. We didn’t just go down the local shopping center to shop. We drove all the way to Milwaukee on Saturday afternoon, checked into a motel with out FBI minders in the rooms on either side of ours. After the breakfast buffet the next morning the motel provided, we all headed out to the closest shopping mall. A couple of hours later I had a new wardrobe and my wallet was a lot lighter.

Upon getting home to the McMansion the FBI had us hold up in we were visited by Foster and a detail of agents parked in front of the house and some walking the perimeter of the property.

Before getting out of the SUV I looked over at Karen and said “This can’t be good.” I was answered with a look of fear in Karen’s eyes.

The two of us and the agents who spent the weekend with us in Milwaukee carried my purchases in to the house and put the bags on the living room couch so we could wash the new clothes and put them away.

Agent Foster did a quick knock and walked on in to the house. He had a serious look on his face and I knew it couldn’t be good news.

“Ginny was spotted this morning outside of your old apartment Karen. She was asking that old busy body neighbor of yours questions. So I think it was good that you decided to get out when you did. I have a team there now packing up your things.” Foster said. “I don’t want you going back there period so I had our cleaning contractor go in and pack your things for you.”

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