Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Three days later...
Marissa stared at the man before her refusing to believe what he was telling her.
"Okay Reggie, let me see if I got this straight. You were walking in the alley picking up cans when you saw two men jump out of a black SUV dressed as Winnie the Pooh and Kermit the Frog and kidnap this guy?"
"Yeah, yeah." Reggie confirmed as he nodded his head vigorously.
"Did you happen to get the make of vehicle they were in, or a license plate number?"
He seemed to think about this for a second. "It was big and black. One of them trucks them rappers be jumping out of. I ain't get no plate number on account of I was so surprised to see Pooh and Kermit in person. They're like my idols, you know?"
Marissa shot a glance at her partner, Bryan Anderson, who for the past ten minutes had a small smile permanently tattooed on his lips. He was clearly amused by this entire situation. Not that she blamed him. Reggie could be amusing at times, but he was a reliable confidential informant.
She had met Reggie a few years ago when she was with the Bureau only a few months. She had picked him up for interstate drug trafficking, during a sweep at a known hangout of a violent street gang called The Hell-Bound Crips who worked out of the South Bronx. During his interrogation with Marissa, and after she had listed out all the charges begin brought against him and the length of time he would have to serve for them, he had decided that it would have been in his best interest if he told her what he knew so that he could get a reduced sentence. His information had proven to be golden, and five of the forty-nine gang members they had picked up were found to be eligible for the death penalty. Now here he was telling her that Pooh Bear and Kermit the Frog had conducted a kidnapping. It didn't get any weirder than this.
"Have you been using any drugs Reggie?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"You sure?" she asked giving him a dubious look.
He held up his right hand. "I swear on my grandma Naynay's grave that I am clean."
Marissa huffed out a sigh and shook her head. She knew she had to keep on questioning him, just incase he did give her some vital information.
"Okay, so Pooh and Kermit grabbed the guy and then what?"
Reggie rubbed his chin. "Then they took off."
She gave him a disappointed look. "That doesn't help me. You said you had information for me on those bodies we found floating near Coney Island. Now you're telling me about Pooh and Kermit. I don't need this shit Reggie. I'm a busy woman, and you're wasting the FBI's time."
Reggie looked over at Bryan, who was leaning against their car. "Is she always like this?"
Bryan shrugged. "Only when you fuck with her. So I suggest you spill what you know. You think she got those bruises on her face by being patient with suspects and informants?"
Reggie peered at Marissa's face intently. The bruise on her cheek was almost gone, but there were still traces of black and purple around the edges. "That's gangsta."
Marissa rolled her eyes. She hated wasting valuable time. She had more leads lined up to check out.
"Look Reggie, if you think of anything else give me a call. You have my number." She turned and walked to the driver's side of the car.
"Man, you're one impatient lady. Just like my baby mammy Lushoda. You can't just rush a man to give you all the information at once. You gotta relax and just let it flow through him, right partner?" Reggie said as he winked at Bryan.
Marissa glared at Reggie. "I'm gonna give you five seconds to give me whatever information you have."
Reggie smiled at her. His gold fronts shining brightly in he late morning sun.
"Five." Marissa said.
"Sheeeeiiit. A man can't have no kinda fun with you can he? Okay. Fine. On the back glass of the SUV was the name of a funeral parlor. Mo Fook's Funeral Home."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes ma'am. I remembered it because it had a cartoon character dressed in a pimp suit giving a thumbs up. It looked like my uncle Daquan. He's a real snazzy dresser and always got lots of bitches around him. He'll like you. Maybe I can introduce you to him."
"Uhh...no." Marissa's mind was busy processing all the information. A vehicle belonging to a funeral home with Kermit and Pooh kidnappers. She shook her head. Only in New York. Her phone rang.
"Carter." she answered.
It was Burger's secretary Susan.
"The boss wants to see you." she said in her nasally Brooklyn accent.
"I'm out on the street."
"How long will it take you to get back?"
"Twenty, maybe thirty minutes. Is it serious?"
"Looks like it. They found another body."
A mixture of excitement and anxiety curled in Marissa's stomach.
"I'll be there as fast as I can."
She flipped the phone and stared at Bryan. "We've got to go."
He nodded and got in the car.
"Reggie, stay out of trouble and keep your eyes open for that SUV."
Reggie nodded. "What about Uncle Daquan? You still want me to hook you up?"
"No." Marissa said as she started the car.
Reggie shrugged. "Your loss."
Bryan sat next to her laughing as she pulled out into traffic. "I think you should go out with Uncle Daquan. He seems like a nice guy."
Marissa shot him a wry look. "I'll do it only if you go out with his aunt Quintesha."
"Is she hot?"
Marissa held back her smile. "Smoking."
"Then it's a deal. Hook it up."
"Did I mention she was a tranny?"
The sound of Marissa laughter boomed around the interior of the car.
Sitting in the Special Agent in Charge's office always made Marissa feel a little queasy. Maybe it was the floor to ceiling windows that gave the effect that she was suspended in mid-air, maybe it was the dark cherry furniture that gave the room an oppressive feel, or maybe it was the fact that nothing good ever happened when she was in there.
She sat in the straight-back chair waiting for the SAC to finish up with a phone call. Bryan sat next to her trying read a memo upside down that was perched at the top of Burger's desk. Burger ended the call and focused his attention on them. Michael Burger was a good boss. Fair, instinctual and charismatic, he embodied what every agent wished their SAC could be like. His only flaw was that once he got an idea in his head he expected everyone to follow his lead until he got the result he wanted. With sandy blond hair, steel grey eyes and a sturdy built his appearance commanded respect. Of course, the expensive suits he wore helped too, but even in plain clothes he projected the image of a man who was used to being in charge and getting what he wanted.
"Carter, how are you feeling?" Burger asked.
"Better." she answered simply. She was anxious to hear what he had wanted to tell them.
"Good. We have a new development. Just got word that another body was found floating in open waters. Same incision in the chest cavity, same amounts of drug packages found stuffed inside it."
"How long ago did they find it? Did they find it in Brooklyn again?" Marissa asked.
"No. This time it was found floating off the Newark-Elizabeth Marine Terminal. Port workers spotted it around 8:30 this morning."
Bryan and Marissa looked at each other.
"Male or female?" Bryan asked.
"Male. White. This time younger. Around 21-28. The other two were around 60-65."
"Are there any leads on the identification of the previous bodies?" Marissa asked.
Burger shook his head. "Still nothing. Medical Examiner is about to code them as John Doe's. It's been two weeks and no one has come forward to claim the bodies."
"Will the Strike Force be going out to claim this new cadaver?" Bryan asked.
The Strike Force a.k.a. the New York Organized Crime Drug Enforcement "Strike Force" comprised of agents and officers of the DEA, the NYPD, the IRS, the Department of Homeland Security Bureau of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the FBI, the New York State Police, the United States Marshals Service, the United States Secret Service and the ATF.
The Force was partially funded by the New York/New Jersey High Intensity Drug Trafficking Area, which was a federally funded crime fighting initiative established by The White House Office of National Drug Control Policy.
Burger shook his head. "The Strike Force is already clamoring to get new leads of the bodies we found here, and with the federal budget cuts we can't spare too many bodies to carry out the investigation in New Jersey. So, that's where you two come in."
Marissa and Bryan exchanged curious looks.
"You two will be going out there for the rest of the week to collect and document all viable evidence. You'll be working with the Trenton Police Department and the Newark FBI Field office. Agent Carter I know this won't be your first time working with them, and that's why you were picked for this."
Trenton. The named swirled around Marissa's head. Trenton was where Carlos was. She hadn't seen him since the morning after her hospital visit. That was days ago. He hadn't called her since he'd left and she hadn't called either. They were doing what they did best; pretending everything was alright and going on with their lives. Now she was heading directly to him. In his town...in his space. Holy shit! In his world with Steph. There went her plan to avoid him for the next few months. She was sure she couldn't move an inch in Trenton and him not finding out about it. Unbelievable.
"Who will we be working with while we're there?" Marissa asked more to distract herself from thinking about Ranger.
Burger looked down at a notepad on his desk.
"A detective named Morelli."
"Joseph Morelli?" Marissa asked hopefully.
"Yeah. You know him?"
"We met briefly when we worked on the Tom Jackson case a few years ago."
"Excellent. You two leave right away. Go home, pack an overnight bag, and then make your way down there. Susan has made reservations at the Trenton Marriott for you two. Morelli will come to the hotel to meet you. Here's his cell phone number and the Newark case agent's number."
Marissa took the post-it with the information, and she and Bryan headed out the office.
"How well do you know this Morelli?" Bryan asked as they got on the elevator.
She smiled. "I got drunk with him one night and sat on his lap."
Bryan smiled back. "And here I thought we were going to have no fun in Trenton."