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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781504923217 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 08/14/2015 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 278 |
| File size: | 247 KB |
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Trust Under Siege
By D. M. Frederick, Jayne Lillis, Miranda McBee
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2015 D. M. FrederickAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5049-2322-4
CHAPTER 1
Travis Lee Mitchell dropped the phone on the floor. He felt as if he had been hit with a sledge hammer. First came denial, then anger, and finally he wept uncontrollably. These kinds of things happened to other people, not his family. He looked up at the stairs that led to his kids' bedrooms. His six year old son Isaac, was taking a nap. What was he going to tell him? His mom and his sister were dead. His wife Rachel Leanne, and his daughter Candice Lynn would never be home again.
He walked into the kitchen feeling completely numb. Anger returned as he grabbed a glass from the sink, and hurled it across the room. The glass hit the wall and shattered into a thousand pieces. He thought of the words used by the Texas State Trooper on the phone. "Mr. Mitchell, we're sorry to inform you that your wife and daughter have been killed in a car accident. We need you to come to the City Morgue to make the identifications." Travis could not get those words out of his head. One thing was for certain, there was no way that he could take Isaac with him. He had to wake him up, but he decided to tell him that he had an errand to run for work. Isaac had a couple of buddies that lived next door. Travis had seen them playing in the back yard just a few minutes earlier. He thought the best thing to do was to have Isaac go next door to play with his friends. He leaned back against the sink, almost unable to comprehend what had just transpired.
As a DEA Agent, Travis had been on the other end of this kind of thing on more than one occasion. He had made the dreaded trip to a family's home to tell them that their loved one would not be coming home. It was a horrible part of the job, but it was the job. At that moment, Travis became enraged again. He yelled in the kitchen, "A phone call? A fucking phone call? You stupid arrogant bastard. You can't take a moment out of your bullshit day of chasing tail lights and writing tickets, to come to my home and tell me face to face that my family has died?" It was a matter of respect, or in this case, lack thereof. The trooper that called was John Holtz. Travis did not know him personally, but the fact that he placed a phone call instead of showing up in person, told Travis all that he needed to know about this trooper. "Spineless sonuvabitch," he continued. "I'll bet the stupid bastard doesn't even know that I'm a Federal Agent." He turned back to the sink, and ran some cold water to splash in his face. For a second, his anger with Trooper Holtz had diverted his thoughts of losing his wife and daughter, to the thought of ripping Holtz's head off when he saw him. As he splashed the cold water in his face, he said aloud, "Holtz, your ass had better be downtown when I get there." His thoughts returned to his family. He dried his face, but had trouble seeing through the shower of tears.
Travis ran upstairs to Isaac's bedroom. He opened the door and saw his son sound asleep. Isaac was only six years old, and his baby sister had just turned three a week ago. He woke Isaac and told him that he had to take care of something for work. Isaac put his shoes on and together they went next door. They were a couple of years older than Isaac, but that made Isaac feel bigger, and the boys treated him like their kid brother. Isaac asked no further questions, and headed for the door. "See ya later Dad," was all he said to Travis.
With Isaac taken care of, Travis headed for the garage. He had no idea how to tell Isaac the news. Even though he was in unchartered waters, his instincts told him the time was definitely not now.
The twenty minute drive to the morgue seemed like an eternity. His mind kept circling around the same thoughts. He remembered the first time that he asked Rachel out on a date. It was their junior year in high school. From that point on, they had been inseparable. They had even attended the same college. When Travis left for the Marines, was the first and only time they had ever been apart. He thought of the times that he was in the delivery room for the births of both of their children. There were no sweeter times than those days of their lives. Now, all Travis had was the memory of the person that made his life what it was. His childhood sweetheart, and his baby girl were gone.
He shuddered with emotion as he drove. Anger, disbelief and fear were all racing inside him. He had a little boy at home who knew nothing of this. "Dear God, show me how to do this."
He arrived at the morgue and showed his identification to the desk clerk. Travis was taken back through several corridors and was met by none other than Trooper John Holtz, and the Medical Examiner (M.E.), Dr. Lienard. Travis had dealt with Lienard in the past on several cases. As a M.E., Lienard was very well respected. Lienard obviously knew Travis as well, but had not made the connection with his wife and daughter, so he was shocked to see him. "Agent Mitchell, I am so sorry. I did not realize." Travis put his hand on Lienard's shoulder.
"Doc, there was no way for you to have known. I don't think you had ever had the opportunity to meet my family, but thank you."
Holtz heard the conversation, and was taken back by it. "Mr. Mitchell, you're a Federal Agent?" Travis glared back at him.
"Holtz, that would be Agent Mitchell of the DEA, and you and I will be having a conversation very shortly."
Dr. Lienard took Travis to a small room, where two bodies were draped with a white sheet. One of them was considerably smaller than the other. For each one of them, the M.E. slowly lifted the sheet just enough for the faces to be visible. It was very clear that the two had been in an extremely violent car accident. Both were disfigured almost beyond recognition ... almost. The vision of their pale faces caused by the absence of blood flow made Travis nauseous. Rachel looked the worst. Her severed throat had caused her to bleed out, which left her beautiful long blonde hair soaked in red. Travis silently gave a soft, but deliberate nod of the head for each of them. This was by far the most gruesome experience that Travis had ever encountered.
As he was leaving through one of the corridors, Holtz approached Travis. Travis was extremely professional in his job as a DEA Agent. However, this was not his job, this was his family. He was still enraged that Holtz did not use the same amount of courtesy and respect that Travis always did. For that, Agent Mitchell was ready for Holtz.
As Holtz started to speak, Travis grabbed the trooper and slammed him against the wall of the corridor, with his forearm under his throat.
"You made a fucking phone call for a fatality? You are one stupid sonuvabitch, Holtz. You listen to me. You had better exhaust all of your resources to find out what happened to my family. What do you know right now? Please enlighten me."
Holtz could hardly speak with Travis' forearm against his throat, but he got enough out.
"We think a drunk driver forced your wife off the road. When she tried to correct, the car shot across the road and over a fifty foot cliff. The description of the car is a late model silver BMW with a female driver, possibly in her forties."
Travis pushed harder against the trooper's throat.
"That's it? That's all you've got? In other words, you don't have shit." Travis released Holtz from his clutches. As he started to walk away, he stopped and turned back towards Holtz. "The next time that I get in touch with you Holtz, you had better have some leads on this. Holtz, you are one dumb bastard. How the hell did you ever make it through the academy?" Travis turned and walked to his car. Once inside the car, he sat silently for a few minutes. The silence then turned to sobs, with Travis repeating his wife and daughter's names, over and over. His mind never stopped running. He started the car and rolled the window down for some fresh air, and drove home.
Four days later, Travis buried his three year old daughter Candice Lynn, and his wife Rachel Leanne. From now on, it was just going to be Isaac, himself, and the mission ... the mission of finding the driver that killed his wife and daughter. Travis was now faced with filling the horrible void that his son would feel in the pit of his stomach for the rest of his life. He knew that he would never be able to completely remove the void, but he knew that he would be there for Isaac through all of the sleepless nights that were to come. Their lives were truly going down a different path now. It was up to Travis, and Travis alone, to guide their way down that unknown path.
CHAPTER 2Six months after the tragic loss of his wife and daughter, Travis Lee Mitchell was finding his life somewhat adjusted. Isaac would still occasionally have a rough night, but for the most part, things were back to normal, or at least as normal as they could be. Travis and Isaac spent a lot more time together now, and it was time not to be traded for anything. Their healing was helped along with lots of fishing, camping, movies and video games. Travis and Isaac found themselves having long meaningful talks every night before Isaac would go to sleep. It was amazing to Travis how the mind of a six year old works. Isaac's clarity was sometimes hard to comprehend. "He's coping with all of this much better than I am," Travis thought. However, he still worried that Isaac might experience emotional problems later down the road. He hoped and prayed everyday that it would never be an issue. There was a bond growing between them that was priceless.
Weekly, Travis called Trooper Holtz to find out if there had been any progress in finding the driver of the car that sent Travis and Isaac into a tailspin of immeasurable heights. As Travis grew increasingly frustrated with the lack of news, Holtz was becoming more and more frustrated in his own right, with the lack of either evidence or leads.
"Agent Mitchell, please believe me sir, I am as frustrated as you are in this matter. We simply have had no additional leads. I have gone over what we already have time and time again, but am unable to bring any new evidence to light."
"How the hell can that be, Holtz." answered Travis. "Explain to me how there can be no leads after six months ... six months, Holtz. Explain it to me please." Travis started to wonder if this case was being handled in the way he would handle it.
Although Travis and Isaac's lives were getting somewhat back to normal, the feeling of anger was growing larger than life in Travis. With the driver of the car still unidentified, Travis' obsession increased. It was time to take matters into his own hands. Travis had tried to be professional about this, but enough was enough.
Normally, car accidents fell under the jurisdiction of the police agency in a specific geographical location. Usually State Troopers took the accidents that occurred on highways or interstates. Only if there was a substantial amount of drugs involved, did the Drug Enforcement Agency have anything to do with car accidents. That was all about to change. Even though Travis had a real issue with Holtz, he still allowed some professional courtesy to the State Police investigating his family's accident. He did his best to stay out of the way so that they could do their job without interruption. Those feelings had been pushed to their limits, and had come to a screeching halt. DEA Agent Travis Lee Mitchell was now jumping in with both feet. Of course, since there was no evidence that drugs were involved, Agent Mitchell's involvement would have to be off the books, unofficial. But that also came with unofficial help from an old friend from the FBI, that would be more than willing to help in his crusade to find the missing driver.
Making the decision to exercise his abilities and resources, made him feel more alive than he had felt in the past six months. He felt more in control. He also had to make sure that his current case load with the DEA did not suffer.
Like a lot of agents, Travis liked to be in control. Having a purpose now helped fill the void, and gave him a reason for confidence. Travis also did not care anymore about being professional in regards to the State Police. If they got in his way, he would be dealing with them in his own way. Nevertheless, he was now on the case ... unofficially.
Agent Mitchell's first point of interest was to find out if there was paint transfer on his wife's car. Mitchell knew that was one of the first things to look for. He went to the impound lot to inspect his wife's car. As gruesome as it was, he had to do it. From a distance, he noticed that there definitely had been contact from the BMW on his wife's car. Travis found a long strip of missing red paint on the driver's side. It almost looked as though his wife's car had been side-swiped. This was no small contact, this was a large scale impact that raised Agent Mitchell's eyebrows. Trooper Holtz had never mentioned this, and he wondered if this had been over looked, or at least not given any importance to the case.
Mitchell knew that the damage on the BMW would have been repaired by now, or completely wiped out by the local chop shop if the car had been stolen. Still, it was a place to start. But as he got closer to the vehicle, he was overcome with emotions that he thought had been put behind him. Each step closer made him more and more anxious.
When he finally reached his wife's car, he started to relive that horrible night. Seeing this gruesome site not only reopened the wounds, but also added to his nightmare.
The inside of the car was drenched in blood. It was everywhere. Then he was hit again with what felt like a sledge hammer. He looked in the back seat, and saw his daughter's car seat. It had been snapped in two sections, and covered in his baby's blood.
Travis reached inside the back seat and picked up something that he noticed lying on the back floorboard. As he looked closer at it, he realized that it was a small tooth from his daughter. As he stood there next to the blood soaked car, holding his daughters tooth, it proved to be more than Travis could handle. He could not hold his emotions in check any longer. He simply sat down on the ground and wept uncontrollably.
For several minutes, Travis experienced violent emotions. With his weeping came projectile vomiting and a spinning world. He pounded his fists against the side of his wife's car until they were scraped and bleeding. Finally, completely overcome, Travis passed out.
Several minutes later, Mitchell woke up covered with his own vomit and urine. He slowly grabbed the side of his wife's car and pulled himself up. Mitchell's body was wretched with pain. He looked down and realized that he was clutching something in his hand. He opened his hand and saw that he was still holding his daughter's tooth. An ounce of common sense finally came over him, as he decided to get in his car and drive home. He had seen what he came to see. Now he had to try and distance himself from the gruesome sight.
Agent Mitchell's first phone call was to a friend at the FBI to check the stolen car list and cross reference it with any chop shop activity. The phone call was a hard one to make. He had not spoken to his friend since the funeral. Nevertheless, he needed his friend's help.
Agent Richard Billings was a little taken back when he answered the phone and heard his friend's voice. Billings' and Mitchell's friendship went all the way back to their college, and Marine days. They had both studied Criminal Justice, both had entered the Marine Corp after college, and both had served in Desert Storm. Both returned safely from their tours of duty, but one chose the FBI, and the other the DEA.
"My God Trav, how are you? I mean, it's been since, well, a long time buddy." Travis had to think for a quick second, he didn't want to offend his lifelong friend. "Richey I'm sorry. I just couldn't be around anyone for a while. I need your help now though. What do ya think?"
"Travis seriously, have you really thought this thing through? I mean this could, if you're not really careful, could go south in a heartbeat. It could get very bad, very quickly. Are you ready for that? At the very least you'd be charged with using the DEA's departmental funds for an outside project. My friend, are you really ready for this?"
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Trust Under Siege by D. M. Frederick, Jayne Lillis, Miranda McBee. Copyright © 2015 D. M. Frederick. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
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