I woke as the bus came to a stop. I could feel the shudder and here the loud brakes catch on the blacktop. I wiped the sleep from my eyes and stood up to stretch. I pulled my hair taunt and re-wrapped my pony tail, pulling my hair back through the back of the ball cap I was wearing. I had left Denver 10 hours and 5 stops ago. I looked out the window at the sign at the bus station, Truth, Montana, in between Billings and Miles City along the Yellowstone River. I had never been to Montana before, not in my military life and not since I left the Marine Corps. For the last 3 months I settled into a routine of no routine at all. I didn’t carry a purse, I didn’t have a cell phone, and I didn’t have luggage either. I wore one set of clothes until it got dirty or torn, then went to a Goodwill to buy another set of clothing. Because of the law enforcement changes after 9/11 in the United States, I did carry my passport and a debit card. I had money set away from my years on the Corps but I wasn’t rich. But I didn’t have a mortgage, didn’t have a car payment, and didn’t have a loan to pay to a bank or credit union. I walked a lot or took buses and the occasional hitch hiking ride. I carried a toothbrush, a travel sized tube of toothpaste, and disposable razor with the passport and card. I had cash left over my when I was in Denver and stepped off the bus to chilly wind. I tightened the thick canvas jacket over my body and walked from the bus station into town. My first stop was at a hardware store that had flannel shirts in the window. I walked in, walking directly to the rack of men’s flannels, looking for my size. I found a fleece lined red and black checkered pattern that would suit me nicely. Everything I was wearing with the exception of my boots was purchase 12 hours ago in Denver. The boots I had for the last few years, a pair of well broken in Timberland Steel Toes in a weather beaten dark brown. They were the kind of shoes that you had worn so much, they mold around your feet. I took the price tag off of the flannel shirt, removed my dark green canvas coat and put it on over my long sleeve t-shirt. I put the canvas coat over it and tested the movement. It would do. I walked to the register and the middle aged portly woman behind the counter smiled at me.
“Will that be all, sweetie?” She asked nicely.
I looked at the name tag on her chest. It said Nancy, she looked like a Nancy. I smiled and handed over the tag and enough money to cover the cost of the flannel shirt. “Is there a diner in town?” I asked.
Again, Nancy smiled sweetly at me, “Why yes, my dear. Just follow this road towards the downtown for 6 or 7 blocks. Then the diner will be right there. You can’t miss it.”
I nodded my thanks and zipped my coat, walking out of the store, turning down the direction she gave me and started walking. The sky was overcast with low clouds and it smelled like it might rain soon. The air was brisk as it would be in late September in the northern part of the United States. I had heard that the wind in Montana could blow straight through someone. I was finding that statement to be true. I kept my head down and continued walking toward the center of Truth. I found the diner 15 minutes later. Truth’s Diner was in between a few businesses in what looked like the center of town and had a large bay window on the street. I walked to the glass door and pulled it open, walking in. There was a bell that jingled as I entered. A young blonde waitress named Mary smiled without showing her teeth at me as the door closed behind me. I glanced around and the diner was sparsely populated. I could see the waitress and a cook. The 8 of the 10 orange vinyl booths were not occupied. An older couple sat in one, closest to the door while the furthest booth had a boisterous group of 4, 2 young men and 2 young women seated. She pulled a long laminated menu out and motioned me toward an empty booth in the middle of diner. I sat facing the door to the diner and took the menu.
“Can I get you something to drink, hun?” Mary asked.
“Coffee please,” I replied as I scanned the menu. “Two eggs over easy with hash browns and pancakes.” I handed the menu back.
“Should only be a few minutes with the food but I will get you that coffee,” Mary said as she finished jotting down my order, taking the menu and walking to drop the order with the cook.
She walked back with an empty white mug and a gold pot. She set the cup in front of me and poured from the gold container. The coffee smelled great and I inhaled, clutching the cup to warm my fingers. I sipped and it was good coffee. I could hear loud laughing behind me; the 4 in the booth at the end of the row seemed to be having a lively conversation. I took my baseball cap off and set it on the vinyl seat next to me. I drank more of my coffee with Mary refilling it. She glanced to the 4 sitting in the back of diner and frowned. The food came and I dug in. It was diner food. A good old greasy spoon. The same all over the country. I was almost finished with the pancakes as I heard the Doppler change from the back of the diner, the 4 people were coming closer but didn’t change their volume. The lead man looked to be 20 or so, dressed in fashionable clothing. He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket, peeled some bills off and threw them in Mary’s face, laughing. Her face turned red as she bent to pick them up. One of the women, a tall blonde, also in her twenties, bumped the bent over waitress with her hip, causing Mary to tumble to the tile floor of the diner.
“Oops,” the blonde giggled as the other three turned to look and laughed. Mary scrambled to her feet, obviously embarrassed.
I really hate bullies. “Apologize,” I said. Not loudly but not quietly either. It was the tone I chose when convening a necessary point to get across. The 4 quieted at that point and looked down at me in my booth as I took a sip of coffee.
“It is alright,” Mary said meekly.
“What the fuck did you say?” The lead man said as he turned and stepped closer to my booth.
“You must be deaf as well as stupid,” I said, “I said apologize.” I took another sip and stared ahead as I set my cup down.
He put his hands on my table and leaned down, “Do you know who the fuck you are talking to?” I could smell the booze on his breath.
“Someone who is deaf and stupid,” I said. I turned my eyes to meet his and did the thing where I didn’t blink.
“You are a dumb cunt, aren’t you?” He asked with a bit of a slur. Then he placed his left hand on my right forearm.
I slipped my arm down enough for his hand to slide, then I grasped his left palm with my hand and twisted it and wrist inward. What I learned very early on in my career was where the wrist goes, so does the entire arm. His arm did just that and he leaned down more to alleviate the pain. That is when I grabbed the top of his head by the hair and slammed his face into the table. There was a THUNK as his face and table connected. I released his head and hand at the same time, letting him fallback to the floor on his well fashioned ass. His buddy came in next which is what I expected, assholes usually come in pairs. He swung a looping right hand but because it was over the other side of the booth table so he had to extend his upper body towards me. I leaned to the left as his fist missed, but I extended my right boot to his knee and kicked it with a straight kick. He howled out and folded up on the tile floor next to his buddy. I looked up at the two young women, but they didn’t move.
“My daddy is the chief of police, bitch,” the tall blonde stammered. She removed her cell phone as she and her redheaded friend backed up out of the diner, leaving the two men rocking in pain on the floor.
It took about 6 minutes for three Ford Crown Victoria Police Interceptors to stop in front of the diner. Red and Blue lights flashed as 4 male officers stepped out as well as a female officer. Their side arms remained in holsters as they looked into the front bay windows from the sidewalk. A tall middle aged man in a crisp blue uniform, the stars gleaming from the sun on his lapel, walked and talked with the blonde. Obviously the father, chief of police. He pointed to a pair of officers and they hustled down the alley, my guess was to watch the exit in back of the kitchen. The chief opened the door and entered the diner, flanked by the male and female police officers. The two young men I had laid out were now up and stumbled, limping out of the diner as he moved to let them pass. The chief walked to the booth I was still seated in.
“Get up,” he commanded, “You are under arrest for assault.”
“It was self-defense, chief,” Mary said quickly. That stopped him and he turned to look at her sternly.
“Are you absolutely sure, Miss Reynolds?” He asked as he narrow his eyes. “You know who she assaulted, don’t you?”
Mary Reynolds nodded, “I know the Barton boys, Chief Williams.” She swallowed hard, “Christian grabbed her and Terry tried to punch her.”
“Knowing who they are and who their mama is, you going to swear to it?” He asked again.
“I will,” Mary nodded with confidence.
“What about you, Clyde?” Chief Williams asked the cook.
The cook shrugged, “I didn’t see it, Chief. I did see Avery push Mary to the floor though.”
I saw the chief turn a bright shade of red as he glanced from the dirty short order cook then out the window to the sidewalk with his daughter standing there. “I think you mean, accidentally bumped. Isn’t that right?” He asked to no one in particular.
“Yeah,” Clyde huffed as Mary nodded.
“All that being said,” the chief said seeming to make up his mind, “You will need to answer some questions at the station. You can agree to it or I can detain you for questioning, your choice.” He stared down at me.
I shoved the last fork full of eggs and pancakes into my mouth, washing it down with the last of my coffee. I pulled out a twenty from my pocket for the $10 meal and coffee. “Keep it,” I said to Mary as I grabbed my ball cap and coat, sliding out of the booth to stand.
The chief nodded to the male officer in the diner, who used his lapel radio handset to call the other two officers back to the front. The female officer hooked her head at me and I followed her outside. Since I had opted for going to the station voluntarily, I wasn’t cuffed, searched and my Miranda rights weren’t read to me. I knew the drill. The back of the Crown Vic was clean and the ride to the police station took only a few minutes. I was ushered through the front of the station, past an aging desk sergeant and through the squad room to an interview room. I was directed to a metal chair on the far side of a metal table that was bolted to the floor. I was left alone for 12 minutes, which I had counted in my brain, when the door opened with Chief Williams and a plain clothed dark haired woman walking in. She looked to be in her 40’s. Black straight hair with streaks of grey in it. The Native American in her shown through immediately. She carried a tablet of paper, pen and hand held voice recorder. It was one that could be hooked up to a computer via a USB port and downloaded conversations would be passed from the device to the computer.
She sat and took her time placing the paper and device on the table while Chief Williams leaned against the wall. She depressed the record button on the small device. “My name is Lieutenant Black. Do you wish to have an attorney present?” She had an easy voice. It had a hint of rasp, maybe from smoking, but it was the tone of voice to put someone at ease.
“Am I being charged with a crime?” I asked in the same tone.
“Not at this time,” she said. “I would like to ask you some questions though. If that is alright with you?”
I shrugged and remained passive.
“What is your full name, birthdate and reason for your visit to Truth?” LT Black asked.
“My name is Anna Marie Chambers, born March 17, 1985,” I said.
“And your reason for being in town?” She asked me again.
“I got off the bus and I was hungry,” I replied.
“Do you know anyone in town? Here for work?” She pressed.
“I have never been to Montana. I don’t work,” I said.
“What do you mean you don’t work?” This question came from Chief Williams.
I looked up at him to acknowledge the question, then turned my eyes back to the woman in front of me. “I do not have a job.”
Chief Williams decided to take over the conversation at that time. “Where did you come from?”
“As in where did I arrive from or where am I from?” I asked which seemed to annoy the chief.
“Where did you arrive here from?” He asked but his voice was terse.
“Denver,” I stated. “On the bus this morning.”
“Bus Ticket?” Lt Black asked.
I reached into my coat pocket and produced the ticket, handing it over.
“This is continuing ticket to Bismarck, North Dakota,” Lt Black said as she scanned over the bus ticket.
“Like I said, I had never been to Montana,” I shrugged.
“So by hunger, you got off the bus here?” Lt Black asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“What is your association with the Barton family?” Chief Williams asked.
“The who?” I asked not looking at him, which seemed to annoy him more.
He slammed his hands on the metal table with GONG and leaned in. “The Barton Family, you roughed up two of them at the diner.”
I took a deep breath and replied, “I met them 30 minutes ago.”
“When you broke one’s nose and gave the other one a possible permanent limp?” Lt Black asked.
“They shouldn’t have been rude,” I said. That statement made Chief Williams demeanor change slightly. He moved back to the wall and leaned against it.
“Let’s get back to our earlier questions,” Lt Black stated, “Where are you from?”
“All over,” I said as she narrowed her eyes.
“Can you elaborate?” She asked annoyed.
“I was born in San Diego, California,” I said, “But I moved around until I was 18 years old with my family. Then I moved around on my own until three months ago.”
“Why did you move around so much?” Chief Williams asked again. “Was it that your daddy couldn’t find a job and he passed that gene to you?” The question got him a look from Lt Black.
“No,” I said as I move my head to look at him. “My father was a Marine. Then I became one until three months ago.”
I saw him do the math in his head. “So you got out at 18 years in? Dishonorable discharge?”
“No,” I said, “I was asked nicely to separate and got severance pay.”
“We will check,” he said.
“What did you do for 18 years in the Marine Corps?” Lt Black asked me.
“Boot camp then general duties. Then a few specialties,” I said to her.
“What was your specialties?” She asked.
“Started as a 5800 then moved to 5815,” I said, “I got out as a 5805.”
“You will have to fill me in on what that means,” she said with a smile. “I know 0300 and such because of the boys from the Reservation joining the Marines. That is infantry. What is 58?”
I remained sitting still in the cold metal chair, “5800 is Basic Military Police, 5815 is a member of the Special Response Team. Like a SWAT team. 5805 is a Criminal Investigation Officer. I left the Marine Corps as a CWO4, Chief Warrant Officer 4.”
Lt Black sat back and moved her hand to shut off the recorder. She looked up to the chief and nodded. He pushed off the wall and walked out of the room. Now it was just her and me, off the record.
“As I see it, you have a few problems,” LT Black said as she leaned back in her chair, lifting her arms over her head and placing her interlocked fingers on the back of her head, “One, no matter what anyone says, you assaulted two of the Barton boys. Brandi Barton will almost certainly want to press charges. The judge is out of the area for two days. So that means you will have to be arrested and detained until you are able to see him. The second problem is we do not have overnight facilities here. You will be housed in a special ward at the state facility near Miles City.”
I was not happy and it must have shown on my face. “That was two.”
“Two?” Lt Black asked.
“Two problems,” I stated emphasizing the “Two”, “A few is greater than two.”
“For the last 12 months Judge Parsons has sentenced women convicted of almost any petty crime to work release at the Barton Ranch,” Lt Black stated. “A few have come back with what seems to be the signs of fighting on their bodies and faces. Some don’t come back at all.”
The wheels in my brain were turning over in my head. “You think the Barton’s have something to do with the missing girls, don’t you? But you can’t prove it. You can’t get a warrant from the judge and you can’t get help from the chief. Am I tracking?”
She smiled, “All points but one. Chief Williams has no love for the Barton family. But as you witnessed at the diner, his only daughter is in deep with the family.”
“Why don’t you call in the State Police?” I asked, “You have those here in Montana, right?”
“We do, but the attorney general of the state…. Do you know what his last name is?” She asked.
“Barton,” I answered softly.
Shouting came from the other side of the door. Lt Black excused herself, taking the note paper and recorder with her. She came back in 10 minutes later with the female officer and Chief Williams.
“Anna Chambers, please stand up,” Lt Black said in a commanding voice. I knew what was happening. I stood as the officer came over, her name tag read, Waters. “Place your hands behind your back.” I did as instructed as Officer Waters handcuffed me. “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you in a court of law, you have the right to an attorney….”
I drowned it out in my head as I felt the cold steel bracelets tighten over my wrists. I heard, “Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?” I said that I did. I was searched and all my belongings were placed in front of me on the table. Officer Waters was patting me down when LT Black cleared her throat and the police officer stopped, letting the detective do it.
“My assumption,” Lt Black whispered, “Is that Brandi Barton will try and have someone get some pay back in the prison. You are supposed to be segregated, but I don’t trust it. I will make some calls to try and help you. If your background checks out, I will get you out.”
I didn’t say anything. I was still pissed. My belongings went into a property bag and I was led out of the interview room. I saw two women having a tense conversation with the chief. Both blondes but obviously related, most likely sisters or even a mother and her daughter. The older of the two was dressed comfortably in a sweater and jeans, her long blond hair cascaded down over her shoulders. The other blonde was younger and dressed in a corporate like pants suit.
“IS that her?” The older blonde asked as she tried to make her way towards me. The younger of the two held her back by the arm. “You want to fuck with my family?”
“Brandi,” Chief Williams said, “Calm down. She is under arrest and will see the judge in two days.”
The younger blonde whispered into Brandi’s ear and the older woman relaxed some.
I didn’t speak as I was led passed them and to a waiting van.The ride to the prison took a little over 30 minutes on the highway. The van turned off the highway, down a long straight road. The prison did not look all that big from the highway, but as we moved closer, it loomed over the flat land. The van went through two gates, each time the guards with long mirrored wands checked the underside of the van. The van moved slowly through and stopped in front of a large building. The door slid open and a heavy set guard ushered me out. He swapped the cuffs I was wearing with new ones as he passed the other cuffs back to Officer Waters. I was led into the building and told to sit on a bench. I rested my cuffed wrists on the tops of my thighs as I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. I heard the click clack of heels on tile and brought my head back. A tall, very beautiful middle aged woman in a smart looking blue blazer and skirt with a crisp white blouse on underneath, walked into view and stopped where I was sitting. Her gaze met mine, but she let hers roam over me.
“I am Assistant Warden Dutton,” she said with a coldness to her voice. “You have not been convicted of any crimes, so you are not a permanent member of this facility. You, Anna Marie Chambers, DOB 3-17-1985, will be house with other women who are either detained like you are or are awaiting trial.” Her eyes moved from the clipboard she was holding to meet mine. “As long as you do not cause my staff any issues, you will leave here in two days’ time with no problems from me. Do you understand?”
I nodded, “I understand.”
Her head went back as she inhaled, making her chest expand and I could see the blouse and blazer were straining. It was a nice image I had burned into my brain as I was led out of the room and down a long corridor. The guard that was escorting me was a chatty woman who was in her late twenties. She informed me that I would have most of the wing to myself. There were no other women waiting for trial or being held from other counties. The solitude suited me just fine. The evening meal was waiting for me when I arrived to the small cell I would be staying in.
“There will be guards monitoring you from there,” she pointed to a Plexiglas room on the second deck. “You have the entire wing to include the shower area to yourself. Soap and a towel are in your cell. The new wings have two person shower rooms. You are in a wing that was once for men. This facility is women only.”
She ushered me in and removed the restraints and chains. I rubbed my wrists as I watched her leave. I dug into the food right away. It wasn’t as good as the diner but was better than some meals I had eaten over the years. I walked to the shower area with the soap and towel, undressed and hung my clothing up. The shower was set up in an open bay. Probably a leftover of the old prison. I turned on the nearest shower head and stood under the stream. It felt good to shower and even better that it was hot water. A sudden chill came over me as I turned and realized I was not alone. 5 women in orange jumpsuits stood at the exit for the shower area. All varied in size from short and squat to tall and muscular. One stepped forward. Her blonde hair was greasy and hung loose over her shoulders. She was my height at 5’5” but easily weighed over 200lbs of rounded fat. Her pockmarked face and smile of missing teeth told me that meth had played a big part of her life. The swastika tattoo under her eye told me that I was dealing with the Aryan Sisterhood. I scanned the rest of the group and could see the white pride tattoos adorning skin.
“I smell fresh meat, girls,” the leader spoke with it being answered in snickers from the rest. “I was hoping for a young bitch but you will do just fine. She pointed at me as she unzipped the jumpsuit and began to pull it off. “You come over here and lick my pussy until I cum. Then you are going to drink my piss. If you do a good job, maybe we won’t fuck you up too bad. Let’s see if a Marine can lick cunt good.”
The warning parts of my brain went off. How did they know I was a Marine? I had only told the police and maybe it was in the file the assistant warden had. Someone wanted me out the picture fast. The big woman finished trying to squeeze her fat out of the jumpsuit. She started getting closer with her posse following. I stayed still as she walked up next to me, moved her face to smell my skin. Her left hand groped my right breast roughly.
“You smell so much better than what I usually take,” she said. In my head I called her Bertha. She opened her mouth to speak but I struck first.
No one expects a head butt. The forehead is a miraculous tool that can be used quite effectively in a fight. It is just thick bone with skin covering it. It weighs a good amount and neck muscles are particularly strong to hold it up. When a head whips forward, it is basically a bowling ball coming at you. My forehead crunched into Bertha’s face. I could feel her nose shatter. The fat bitch staggered back with her eyes looking around but there was no one home. She collapsed on the wet tile floor. The short haired blonde amazon, who I dubbed, Helga, came at me first. Part of her attention was on her fallen leader and ducked her swinging right fist and slammed my right forearm into her taut belly before bringing my left hands down like a hammer at her right knee. The leg was extended and my hammer fist dislocated the knee cap upon impact. 2 down, 3 to go. I caught a fist to the left ear and my world spun as I was sprawled out to the shower tiles. I shook my head and reoriented myself to the incoming threat. A redhead with a long scar running from her right eyebrow to her chin was coming at me as two other blondes were tending to their boss. Red went to swing again but I moved my head outside of the arc of the hand. I locked her arm against her head and punched her three times in the kidney area on her right side. I looked up in time to get tackled by the other two blondes. All four of us went down to the tile floor and slid for a few feet. The Aryans were started in on punching before standing and then the kicking started. I covered my head to protect my senses and tried to take most shots on the forearms and shins. A wild haymaker from one of the blondes sent my head smacking against the tile. Red hauled me up as Bertha had woken and was stalking towards me. Then I heard a whistle and all movement stopped in the shower. The arms of the two blondes holding me up slackened and I tried to focus on the new group in the shower. Back next to the entrance to the showers stood 4 hard women with long black hair. All Native with the one in the middle having a passing resemblance to the detective, Lt Black.
Bertha turned and sneered, “Get the fuck out of her, Injun slut! This new cunt is mine!”
“This woman is under our protection, bitch!” The Native woman in the middle replied.
“Get them!” Bertha cried out as she raced and tackled me to the tile as Red and the two blondes took on the new comers.
The fat bitch was heavy as she and I rolled over the wet tile punching. She grabbed my left tit with her nails and squeezed. I barked out a shout of pain and punched her over and over in her sagging breasts. Her hands moved to my throat and she leaned into it. I had only seconds to get out of it before the lack of oxygen to my brain would make me pass out. I grabbed her broken nose and wrenched it but all she did was scream and did not let go of my neck. I pushed my right thumb into her left eye. She howled as I worked it into the socket on the side by her nose and pushed my thumb to the side. She shrieked and fell off me, her eyeball daggling as she writhed on the floor, screaming. The other Aryans were all unconscious on the shower floor. I looked up and saw a hand being held out for me so I took it.
“I am Maggie Black,” Maggie said as she pulled me to my feet. She hitched her head at the Aryans. “You almost didn’t need our help but my cousin wanted you to be safe.”
“Your cousin the cop?” I asked with wry smile.
“We are all cousins of one sort or the other on the rez,” she said with a laugh. “You must have pissed off the wrong people.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because after my cousin contacted me, Assistant Warden Dutton paid us a visit,” Maggie went on as I dressed. “She said it would be in the Rez Runners best interest if this new prisoner went away quickly. I told her to get fucked. Means that some of my fun is taken away but we will survive.”
So someone wanted me dead and used the assistant warden to do it. I had a good guess as to who was behind it all.
“I guess I need to meet up with this Ms. Dutton sometime,” I said.
“Be careful when you do,” Maggie said with a serious tone. “She was a guard here. She can fight and beat me down a couple years ago. I was in the infirmary for two weeks.”
“I am always careful,” I said as I looked back at the women laying on the shower floor as Maggie burst out into fits of laughter.
I was left alone for the next day. The talkative guard came back to my cell before breakfast on the second day.
“Well you are getting out of here,” she said. “I am here to escort you to Chief Williams from Truth.”
I was surprised it was not Lt Black picking me up. But I didn’t argue and walked ahead of her as we went from the wings to the main building. Chief Williams was waiting for me but didn’t cuff me. He led me out the door to the outside world and a Crown Victoria with Lt Black behind the wheel. I got in the back as he got in the passenger’s seat. We all stayed silent until we made it through the two outer gates.
“Did Maggie make contact?” Lt Black asked as she gunned the accelerator down the road.
“Not until after the Aryans paid me a visit?” I said. I only had a couple visible bruises on my face and forehead.
“You seem to be alive,” Chief Williams observed. “Your background checked out. Your last commanding officer had all great things to say about you. Told me you were the best at what you did in the Marine Corps. All until your last assignment.”
I leaned my head back, “I was in a no win situation. I did my job and was asked to leave the Marine Corps.”
“His words exactly,” Chief Williams said. “Said you were a hell of an investigator as well.” He swiveled around to face me. “We need your help to bring down Brandi Barton.”
“Brandi Barton runs the town without having an active role in the town government,” Lt Black said. “She runs the mayor, got him elected. She runs the state livestock commission. Hell she is basically the queen of Montana.”
I was silent for a few minutes. “So she has the judge send all the convicted women to her. She makes them fight. Why? What is the reason?”
“No one is talking,” Chief Williams said. “The girls come back after their sentences are done. They look like they went a few rounds with professional boxers. No one has talked.”
“You said some went missing,” I asked Black.
“The girls who went missing have only been from the rez,” she said.
“Involved the feds?” I asked.
“My calls were answered with the same message, stay out of it,” she replied. “No one cares about the poor little Indian girls who run away from the shacks and desperate lives on the reservation.”
“So no bodies?” I asked. “No one has seen them so they must have run away? What happened a year ago?”
“What do you mean?” Chief Williams asked.
“You said when we first met that for 12 months, Barton has been getting the judge to send her women,” I stated, “So what happened last year?”
The wheels on both started turning. “Victor Barton died. He went missing on a fishing trip and his body was discovered two weeks later. Drowned after his skull was crushed in from hitting rocks on a rapid.”
“You see the body?” I asked.
“No, it was in a report from the state police,” Chief Williams said but I could tell he was thinking.
I breathed out heavily. “So you want me to not challenge my conviction in hopes that Brandi Barton will have me sent to her ranch for work release. How am I doing so far?”
The chief and the detective looked back and forth between themselves.
I continued, “I can’t be seen talking with you. I am on my own to solve your dilemma and if I do get you evidence, the state is already backing Brandi Barton. Still tracking? And your daughter, Chief Williams, is in deep with one of the sons. So what are you prepared to do?”
“I will do everything to keep her safe,” the chief said as he started ahead. “We lost her mother, my wife, two years ago. Cancer. Avery is all I have left in this world and I don’t want to see her pulled down into something she can’t get out of.”
“Fine,” I said. I turned my neck over a few times, feeling it pop. “Find someone who will go against her. File the correct paperwork to have me placed as a confidential informant. That way if state or the feds try to blow up your case because I am involved, it protects you slightly.”
We drove the rest of the way to the police station. I was re-handcuffed and led into the building by Lt Black. We went back into the interview room. I was told to sit in the chair, so I sat.
“You will be arraigned this today,” Lt Black said as she sat. “The judge is back. Our city attorney is the prosecutor and you will be represented by a local lawyer on loan to do pro bono work. For your information, both are paid for by Brandi Barton.”
I chuckled a little. “For your information,” I replied, “The assistant warden tried to have me killed in prison.”
“I know her,” Lt Black said with a pained expression and her hand brushed back her hair as a reflex. “She and I had a disagreement or two. She is a racist who hates all women from the Rez.”
I nodded. “I will find time to meet with her.”
I watched her touch her chest like she did her hair. I am not sure if she realized it or not. For the first time, I noticed that Lt Black had a beautiful body. The jacket she had worn during the previous time I talked with her was pealed back and the swell of her breasts strained against the crisp white blouse. She noticed me looking and smiled.
“My name is Suzan,” she said, “I figure since you are going to help us, you might as well call me by my first name.” Suzan checked her watch. “Almost time to see the judge.”
She stood and motioned me to my feet. She walked with Officer Waters, who held my upper left arm as we walked down a long corridor that connected police station to the court house. I was led into a decent sized court room and told to sit. There was only one other case before mine.
A young woman with jet black hair dressed in dirty clothing was standing before a troll of a man. Judge Marcus Parsons was a bald man with only a few wisps of hair sticking out of his sweaty scalp. His face was tripled chinned and shook as he nodded his head. The glasses he had perched on nose looked out of place on the huge face.
“So Jessica White Dove, you are accused of shoplifting on September 4th of this year, how do you plead?” Judge Parsons asked.
The old white man in a frumpy suit next to her nudged her. She glared at him. At that moment, the doors in the back of the courtroom opened. Brandi Barton, along with her two sons, Christian and Terry walked in. Both of Christian’s eyes were blackened with a bandage over his nose. Terry was hobbling in on crutches with his knee in a brace. I moved my head back forward and didn’t smile but I sure wanted to. Jessica was still staring at the Barton family.
She turned back to the judge, “Guilty.”
Judge Parsons smiled. “As the defendant has pled guilty, I hereby sentence you, Jessica White Dove, to work release at the Barton Ranch for the next month. You will be housed on property. Do you have any questions?”
Jessica shook her head.
“You will be taken there after the next case,” the judge said as he banged his gavel.
The young woman was led to the back of the courtroom to sit. The old lawyer in the frumpy suit turned to me and nodded. I stood and walked forward.
“Case number 04312, People vs Anna Marie Chambers, assault in 2nd degree,” Judge Parsons said reading the file, then he looked at me. “How do you plead?”
I looked around and didn’t see Mary Reynolds anywhere. It would have been fruitless to try and fight it anyway. “Guilty,” I said.
“As the defendant has pled guilty, the court finds you guilty and sentences you to two months’ work release at the Barton Ranch. You will be housed on property. Do you have any questions?”
I stared hard at him, “No, your honor.” He banged his gavel again and I was led out of the court room by Officer Waters and a male police officer who was leading Jessica White Dove out in front of me. We were secured in the back of police van on benches facing the other.
I looked Jessica up and down. She looked like a young woman who had seen hard times. Her black hair was long and straight. Her clothes looked second hand and oversized. Her face was pretty but dirty. She looked up to see me staring at her. She took her time to examine me.
“Aren’t you too old to be going to the ranch?” She asked cocking her head to the left.
“What do you mean, too old?” I asked back.
“This is my fifth time going there,” she replied. “You are probably 15 years older than the oldest girl there. I hope you know how to fight, or it is going to be a hard two months for you.”
“I can handle myself,” I said matter-of-factly.
Jessica laughed. “I haven’t been beaten. You can make good money if you win.”
“These are organized fights?” I asked looking puzzled.
“Like MMA or boxing? No,” Jessica said as she smiled. “There is a cage, but the two or more girls who fight scratch and claw. Sometimes it is a sexfight or titfight. Mrs. Barton always brings in really rich people to watch. That is how you can get paid. Do well and get a nice tip.”
I let it all sink in. I knew of everything she talked about. Had played around with sexfights and titfights when I was in the Marine Corps. Part of my job as a Chief Warrant Officer was to pose undercover in different commands. I knew how to catfight, actually liked it. The idea of women fighting in a primal sort of manner excited me.
The van came to a stop and the back door opened. Officer Waters waved us to get out. She uncuffed both of us and I rubbed my wrists. The ranch was massive. There were four large barns surrounding a mansion like log home. The fenced fields went on to my visual horizon. I could see people on horseback in the fields. Brandi Barton, the well-dressed blonde I saw first in the police station and a rough looking breaded man walked up to us.
“Welcome back, Jessica,” Brandi said with a smirk. “Couldn’t get enough huh?” Her eyes fell on me. “I hope I don’t have any problems coming from you. You hurt my boys, maybe they needed correcting, but that is a mama’s job, not yours. This is my daughter, Kayla, you will do whatever she tells you. This is Rod Wester, he is my ranch foreman. You will be working for him during the day. I leave you in his capable hands.” She turned and walked with her daughter to main house.
“Jessica,” Rod said, “You go to main barn and talk with Carla. You are on for tonight.”
The young woman nodded and started walking to the largest barn.
I turned my head back to the man and he was smiling at me. “You have shit detail. Go to that barn,” he said as he pointed to the furthest red barn. “Report to Remi. She is expecting you. You can’t miss her.”
I walked to the barn and walked inside. It smelled like horse shit. My lucky day. There were three young women in the barn. One was barking orders. She was shorter than I was by a couple inches. Her arms were covered in tattoos and her blue hair was pulled back in a braid. Her breasts strained against her tight t-shirt. She smiled at one corner of her mouth and tossed me a shovel. I caught it.
“Put the shit into the wheelbarrow and take it to the shit pile,” Remi said. “Most of the time we all share the responsibility. But you must have pissed off Mrs. Barton, because we were told to stop picking it up yesterday.”
I didn’t say anything and just started working. I spent the rest of the late morning shoveling shit in the barn. I was sweating and my arms and shoulders were straining. It was a decent workout. I got the barns done as the sun was low in the west. Remi walked up with a canteen of water. I took it and drank deeply.
“I am supposed to show you what goes on,” Remi said as she watched the setting sun with me. “Follow me to the bunk house. There is a pile of left over clothes. Take what you want.”
I held my hand out and she took it. “My name is Anna.”
“I know,” Remi said, “How long are you here?”
“Two months,” I said as I walked with her. “You?”
“I am not on work release,” Remi said, “I was but got hired on as a ranch hand. I also make sure the women stay in line.”
I could see headlights in distance near the entrance to the ranch. Lots of head lights. I hooked my thumb, “Party tonight?”
“Sort of,” Remi smiled. “Take a shower, get changed and I will take you to where we get to watch from.”
“Watch what?” I asked.
“You will see,” Remi answered.
The bunk house was full. There were ten bunk beds and it looked like most were occupied. Remi pointed me to a top bunk with my last name on a piece of paper taped to the bunk. On itwas a towel, bar of soap and package of women’s panties and socks, in my size. I grabbed the essentials and went to shower. There were five shower stalls and I picked the farthest one and turned the water on. It was good to wash off the smell of shit on my body. I dried off and found the left over clothes bin. Choosing a long sleeve green t-shirt, black bra in my size, and jeans. I put on the clothing and walked outside to grab my boots which I had washed off with a hose and put them back on. Remi was waiting for me. She looked me up and down, nodding.
“You smell better,” she said. She handed me a metal plate with ground beef and beans, ranch food. I ate and she headed me a cold long neck bottle of beer. “Don’t get drunk or we will have problems.”
I nodded and drank. “So what is going on tonight?”
“Three girl fights,” Remi said. “If you want, we can watch the last two fights. People pay to come from all over to watch. The girls volunteer to fight because the winners can get paid if the fight is popular. The girl you came in with is fighting in the final fight.”
“Who is she fighting?” I asked taking another swig from the bottle.
“Lisa Watson,” Remi said, “Both girls haven’t lost yet and have been popular before. Going to be a catfight in bikinis.”
“So the winners get paid,” I said, “What happens to the losers?”
Remi shrugged. “Sometimes they come back to the bunk house or go out to the satellite ranch about 30 miles in the mountains. If the fight is good, sometimes Mrs. Barton releases them of their sentences. Sometimes they work of the ranch. Like me.”
“Do you still fight?” I asked.
“If I want some extra money or if Mrs. Barton asks me to, I fight,” Remi answered me. “So do you want to watch them?”
I nodded and she led me to the main barn. There were about twenty or so well dressed men and women, cheering two blonde women who were rolling around a dirty mat in the center of a chain linked cage. Remi motioned me to a seat overlooking the cage and the spectators. I recognized the two girls as the ones who were in the barn with Remi when I started today. Both were naked and covered in a sheen of sweat. Their hands pulled heads back and forth as firm breasts pressed roughly.
Remi spoke as they fought, “Holly and Melissa. Mel has the back tattoo.” As she spoke, Mel rolled on top and I saw the ornate tattoo of a dragon on her back. She started grinding her hips down onto Holly as both women grunted and moaned. Remi smiled, “A fuck fight,” she said as she seemed to read my mind.
The blondes brought mouths together as they roughly kissed. The crowd cheered. Mel was relentless as she slammed her pussy into Holly. The blonde on the bottom broke the kiss and tilted her head back screaming out as her body shuddered. Mel rose up to her knees, raising her hands above her head as she scooted forward, brining Holly’s head between her thighs, slamming the losers face into her pussy over and over until she screamed out her own orgasm. The crowd cheered loudly as Mel stood, walking around, playing to the crowd. Holly crawled off as Rod Wester opened the cage door to let them out. I looked over the crowd and saw Brandi Barton, her daughter Kayla and Judge Parsons watching from a segregated area. There was an empty seat but a tall, statuesque blonde walked up to take the seat. I recognized the Assistant Warden Dutton. My peripheral vision caught movement as Wester opened the cage door for Jessica White Dove walked in wearing a tiny white bikini. The oversized clothes had disguised her very voluptuous body. Her breasts were large and round, very little sag to them. Her waist was flat and her hips and ass are what you would call thick. The top barely covered her nipples and the bottoms were wedged up her ass cheeks. The crowd cheered their approval and it did seem that Jessica was a fan favorite. Then the crowd seemed to roar as the new woman came in. Lisa Watson was another thick woman with light brown hair. Her breasts were massive and only sagged a little, her waist was bigger but her hips and ass gave her a womanly shape. Her black bikini was just as small as Jessica’s.
“Lisa got busted for prostitution,” Remi said. “She keeps going back to it and then gets sent here. This is her fifth time. She and Jessica never fought before. They were always here at different times. It never over lapped.”
Both women in caged turned to Brandi and she nodded. Wester closed and locked the cage as both women started to circle. The crowd hushed as the two looked at the other and charged. When they smacked together, the crowd roared. Hands grabbed hair as the pair stumbled in the center of the cage. Lisa was a few inches taller than Jessica and pushed the Native woman back to one side of the cage. Their bodies leaned into the other as heads went left and right. The bikini tops did not keep the nipples covered on either and the stiff nubs pressed into the dense flesh. Jessica rolled them against the cage, arching her back, causing her breasts to push under Lisa’s. The crowd was so loud I couldn’t hear anything from the fighters but I could see lips moving as they were taunting the other. The taller brunette slammed her knee between the Native girl’s legs and Jessica stumbled back. Lisa pursued and tackled her to the dirty mat. Bodies bucked as legs locked and unlocked. Hands tore away the tops and the bikini bottoms. The naked woman struggled and rolled, trying to remain on top but each was able to roll the other off. Jessica returned the earlier favor to Lisa with a hard right knee into the brunette’s pussy. The bigger woman screamed out over the crowd as the Native woman mounted the waist, grabbing the large breasts in a death grip, squeezing and twisting them. Lisa did not try to wrench the hands from her tits but grabbed Jessica’s big pair in return. I could see the arm jostle and knock hands away, only to re-grab from different angles. Lisa bucked her hips and Jessica fell off to the side. The brunette struck by sinking her teeth into the tanned right breast. Now I could hear the Native girl scream out in pain over the noise of the crowd.
I looked down to the box were Brandi Barton was. The woman’s eyes were locked on the two fighters in the cage. Beside her, Kayla, her daughter and the Assistant Warden Dutton, had their shirts off and were kneading bare breasts while they kissed passionately. The meekly Judge Parsons looked like a man at a tennis match; his eyes moving from the two women next to him to the two women in the cage.
Jessica was on her back and looking like she was in trouble. Her hands though, worked between Lisa’s legs and suddenly the bigger woman screamed out and shot off the Native woman. Jessica kept the claw like grip on Lisa’ pubic mound as the brunette tried to get free. The black haired woman threw Lisa down to her belly and grabbed a handful of light brown hair. With her other hand, she jabbed two fingers in the bigger woman’s dark star. Lisa was getting fucked in the ass by the Native woman. Still on all fours, the voluptuous white woman looked to Brandi as the ranch owner nodded. Lisa balled up her left fist and swung it behind her. The bottom of the hammer like fist slammed into Jessica’s mouth. The holds on the hair and in the rose bud were lost as the Native woman fell over to the side. There was a collect OOOHH from the crowd as Jessica spit out blood. Before she could get up, Lisa was upon her. They rolled again in a catball but the bigger woman was starting to wear the Native woman down. Lisa ended up on top, grabbing Jessica by the hair and slamming her head onto the mat. Once! Twice! Three times! Jessica was all but out when Lisa scooted up and dropped her huge breasts over the black haired woman’s face. She tucked her arms to force the massive globes to cut off the air supply of the woman under her. I could the weak slaps and struggles of Jessica until there was no more movement. The crowd roared! Lisa sat up and raised her fists. Her chest moving in and out rapidly as she fought to catch her breath. I looked over Brandi Barton who was beaming. She glanced to a smartly dressed Asian man who nodded at her. She nodded back. I could see the man talking with an Asian man and woman next to him. They got up and walked to the cage entrance as Rod Wester opened it and let them inside. They grabbed the unconscious Jessica White Dove under the arms and hauled her up to drag her out of the cage.
I looked over at Remi, who had a pained look on her face. “Where are they taking her?” I asked.
“I don’t ask anymore,” she lifted up her shirt, pulling her pants down some. On her hip was a brand, a capitol letter D. “The last time I asked, Mrs. Barton and her daughter worked me over and I got branded. I was told if I asked again, I would be killed. I have nothing else but this, so I don’t ask.” She looked away ashamed.
There was nothing I could do about it. I looked back down and locked eyes with Brandi Barton, who was looking up and Remi and me. The look that past between us could have frozen hell.
To Be Continued…
Very hot story !! Interesting plot. I liked it ! You have set anything for many fights of any kind among all these women. I hope to read next chapter soon !