The Emancipation of Collette Martin - Part 3

Cincinnati Ohio – October 2nd, 1968

FBI Special Agent Collin Davis walks down the brightly lit hallway of the District 5 Cincinnati Police station. He passes several male officers who are clean-cut and look like they just graduated from High School. He hears them whispering as he turns and knocks on the door of Cincinnati Police Chief, Stanley Buck. A loud, “Enter” beckons from the other side of the door. Special Agent Davis turns the doorknob slowly and opens it slightly. He slides in and shuts the door quickly. Chief Buck stands slowly with a nervous grin on his chubby face. He reaches his hand out offering a friendly, but professional greeting. Special Agent Davis extends his hand and grabs the sweaty palm of the Chief. He lets go immediately and wipes the residual moist onto his pants. The Chief motions for him to sit, but Davis continues to stand. “So, what brings the Feds to come visit me on this fine Wednesday morning?” Davis clears his throat loudly and straightens his tie, “ I am here to discuss the bank fire from four weeks ago and the residential fire from last week. I believe they are related in some way.” The Chief leans forward, a concerned grimace spreads across his face. “Do you know the whereabouts of Mrs. Collette Martin?”

Outskirts of Las Vegas Nevada – October 2nd, 1968

A shiny red town car with Missouri plates pulls off the desolate road and into the dirt parking lot of a small roadside diner. It pulls between an old blue and rusted up pickup truck and a dark green sedan. The driver door opens, and Collette Martin steps out into the dry desert air. She runs her hands down the front of her floral print dress to straighten out the wrinkles from the long drive. She lets out an exhausted sigh and walks towards the back of the car. She unlocks the trunk and reveals the corpses of a man and woman, presumably in their early forties. She digs fervently around and between their stiff bodies finally finding her purse. She smiles as she swings the strap around her shoulders and slams the trunk shut. She walks up to the diner’s door and pauses. She checks her makeup in the reflection of the glass then proceeds to enter.

Cincinnati

The Chief leans back in his chair and crosses his large arms, “Why are you asking about Mrs. Martin?” Special Agent Davis finally takes a seat and crosses his long legs, “I am asking because I believe her to be the main suspect in these two cases.” The Chief leans his crossed arms against his large belly and begins to laugh, “Are you pulling my leg son? You think that she had the ability to commit three murders and set a bank and a house ablaze?” He continues to laugh, “She is just a woman. It would take one man, two tops, to carry out that kind of carnage.” Davis folds his hands on his knee, “Don’t you find it odd that on the day the bank was deliberately set on fire, Mrs. Martin had an appointment to see Mr. Montgomery about withdrawing a large sum of cash.” The wide grin slowly fades from the Chief’s face. He sits up straight and leans his elbows atop his desk. “It was confirmed by Mr. Montgomery’s secretary that there was some sort of argument 20 to 30 minutes before the fire started.” Davis uncrosses his legs and slowly stands, “She also stated that she received an in house call from Mr. Montgomery. He instructed her to withdraw all the funds from The Martin’s account. She said that he sounded a little “distressed.” Special Agent Davis slowly starts to walk around the Chief’s desk sliding one finger against the smooth edge. “After the fire was snuffed out, Mr. Montgomery’s charred remains were found tied to his chair. Multiple puncture wounds found all over his body. And…” The Special Agent slinks behind the Chief’s chair and leans slowly next to his ear. “An unidentified head was found on a receipt spike in the middle of the desk.” The Chief stands to his feet, his face flushed bright red. “Now I don’t think I have to go over all the details of the second case, except that Mrs. Martin’s neighbor Bobby Allen’s corpse was found on the floor in the kitchen. And I am willing to bet that the headless corpse found in the living room was her husband Carl, who hasn’t been seen in a month.” The Chief’s left eye starts to twitch as he yells, “Hargreeves!” A young nervous-looking officer runs into the office, “Yes sir?” The Chief clenches the bands of his black suspenders, “Put out an APB on Collette Martin…” Special Agent Davis chuckles softly, “If she is as smart as I think she is, she has already fled the state.” The Chief stares at Davis dumbfounded, “Well…where would she have gone?”

Roadside Diner – Nevada

Collette stands in the doorway of the diner. It is empty except for the broad-shouldered waitress at the counter and a dirty long-haired man at a corner booth. She walks slowly to the counter, the thick heel of her newly bought cowgirl boots echoing loudly against the black and white tiles. She slides onto a small stool and crosses her hands neatly against the counter. The waitress waddles over to her, “What’ll it be?” Collette smiles and delicately grabs a menu from the holder to the right of her. She briefly glances down then raises her cheery gaze back to the grumpy waitress, “I’ll just have a coffee and piece of chocolate cake.” The middle-aged waitress snorts then shuffles to the kitchen and out of sight. “She’s a peach that one.” Collette slowly turns around and her eyes meet with the strangers sitting in the corner booth. Collette gives him a wide smile, “Yeah, she’s charming I’d say.” The man laughs hysterically. His dirty fingers slide back his long dark brown mane behind his ears. She notices that he is wearing a worn olive drab army jacket. The man’s eyes, a light beautiful blue, seem tired. “Did you just get back?” The man sighs and runs his hands against his long beard, “I’ve been back for a while. Just on my way to find my purpose.” Collette nods and tilts her head with curiosity at the man, “What’s your purpose?” A wide smile spreads across the man's face. The loud THUD of the front door breaks their gaze. Collette turns to look and notices a Sheriff’s Deputy standing right next to her.

Cincinnati

Special Agent Davis walks out of the police station holding the files of both the bank and residential fires. He jogs across the busy street and enters the passenger side of a tan sedan. A dark-haired man with a deep scar across his nose sits at the wheel, “Did you get the files?” Davis waves the files playfully in the air. “Can you believe those dumbasses? Not one of them thought to at least locate and interview the wife. That goofy Chief is like Barney from that show…what’s it called?” The driver, Special Agent Henderson, puts the car in gear and pulls out and onto the street, “The Andy Griffith Show.” Davis smacks his knee, “Yeah, that one!” They turn left and automatically get caught in traffic. “Dang it! What’s going on now?” Special Agent Henderson rolls down his window and sticks his head out to get a better look, “Looks like a Black Panther rally.” Davis slides down into his seat, “Ugh! I got to get this nationwide BOLO out for this broad. What a day, man.”

Roadside Diner – Nevada

The scrawny sheriff’s deputy smiles and tips his hat to Collette, “Ma’am.” He walks bow-legged and slow like one of those cowboys from a cheap spaghetti western. He tosses his 10-gallon hat on the counter and flops on the stool three down from Collette. She turns back toward the kitchen area just in time to see the waitress place her coffee and cake in front of her. The waitress rolls her eyes at Collette and attempts to walk seductively over to the deputy. She leans her large bosom on the countertop directly in front of the lawman, “What can I get for you, officer?” The deputy laughs and winks at the giggling waitress. Collette grimaces at the mental image of the stick-thin deputy rolling in the hay with the linebacker waitress. She smacks her forehead lightly as if to force the disgusting mating ritual from her twisted cerebrum. “Oh, Janet you know, just here on business.” The waitress pushes herself off of the counter and stares worryingly at the deputy, “What do ya mean?” The deputy lightly raps his knuckles on the surface of the counter then stands slowly to his feet. He lifts his arms in a light stretch above his head then places both hands around his utility belt. “I got an APB on a vehicle that was involved in an armed robbery of a married couple from out of state. During the drive of my usual route, I pass by this fine diner, and wouldn’t you know…that very vehicle is sitting in this here lot.” Collette slowly pulls the strap of her purse around to her front. Sweat starts to pool on her temples. The purse makes it to her lap and she slowly unzips it, reaching a couple of fingers inside to grab her small knife. The deputy turns and stares directly into Collette’s eyes, her fingers freeze on the blade. “Little lady I think it’s time for you to leave.” The deputy quickly spins in the direction of the man in the corner booth, hand now on his holster.

BANG.

A warm mist of blood washes over Collette’s face. She closes her eyes for a moment, her hands now smearing the residue all over. She opens her eyes and sees the lifeless deputy crumpled to a heap on the floor in front of her. Blood now pours from the gaping wound in the back of his head. She sees that the man in the corner is now standing, pistol raised in her direction. Collette slowly raises both of her hands in the air. The man exits the booth and walks quickly over to her. She smiles at the man and starts to giggle. “What the hell are you laughing at?” Collette points at the deputy, “This. All of this. It’s like I’m in a damn western.” The loud cocking of a double-barrel shotgun gets the attention of both Collette and the man and they turn towards the kitchen in unison. The waitress stands shivering holding a shotgun in the man's direction. “Don’t you move. Don’t you dare move.” The man lowers his weapon and places it on the counter. He raises his hands in the air. Collette scoffs at the man's defeat. “Really? You’re just going to give up that easy?” The waitress stares in confusion at Collette. The man, taken aback by the blunt response, shakes his head. “Well, what the hell you want me to do? She’s got a shotgun pointed at me and I only had one bullet left.” Collette scolds the man and takes a sip of her coffee. “How did you even survive over there? From what I heard, Charlie ain’t that forgiving.” Collette takes one last sip of her coffee then quickly splashes it into the eyes of the waitress. The waitress yelps in pain and drops the shotgun, rubbing her eyes frantically. Collette hops up onto the counter, spins around, then jumps to the other side. She shoves the woman’s face against the countertop and watches her fall to the ground. Collette looks over at the man, “What’s your name friend?” The man looks down at the waitress and replies, “Ben. Ben Jeffries.” Collette winks at him then proceeds to stomp repeatedly on the waitress's head. Ben stands in awe of Collette stomping away as brain matter splats across the floor and on kitchen appliances. Collette gives one last hard stomp and brushes away the hair from her sweaty forehead. She extends her hand towards Ben, “Pleased to meet your acquaintance, I’m Collette Martin.” Ben sheepishly grins and grabs her hand in a firm grip.

Collette and Ben both exit the diner and stand in front of the cars in the lot. Collette looks at the setting sun on the horizon, “Where are ya headed, Ben?” Ben stares at Collette and sighs, “San Francisco. I have unfinished business there.” Collette nods and starts to walk towards her car, “Hey, you want to hitch a ride with me? The vehicle you rode into town with is a liability.” Ben looks back at the old pickup and then back to Collette, “You headed to San Francisco?” Collette smiles, “I am now.”

Cincinnati

Special Agent Davis and Special Agent Henderson sit at their messy desks piled with stacks of case files. Special Agent Henderson grimaces as he crochets a small sweater. “Why do you do that? That’s what women and queers do.” Henderson stops briefly and looks up at Davis, “I like to do it that’s why. It keeps me calm.” Davis rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair. He covers his face with an old newspaper and growls. Just then the office door squeaks open. A young blonde that resembles Barbara Eden stands in the doorway. “Special Agents Davis and Henderson. Nevada State Police are on the phone, they want to speak with one of you.” Henderson continues to crochet, “What about?” The blonde looks behind her shoulder to check if there is anyone eavesdropping then turns around and whispers, “A couple of bodies were found at a roadside diner outside of Las Vegas in suspicious conditions.” Davis laughs, “All dead bodies are found in suspicious conditions.” The blonde inches more into the room, “There was one witness. The cook. When things got crazy he hid in the freezer. He did give descriptions of the two assailants.” Henderson stops crocheting and looks up at the blonde secretary. She nervously plays with a button on her blouse, “The first subject is a male in his late twenties and hippie looking. The female suspect…” Davis and Henderson look at each other with excitement.