Final Justice

By Marvin L. Lindberg

Joe Samson is just trying to earn a living, but his promise to a dying woman, get shim caught up in a terrorist plot only he can unravel. This is a story of justice, promise and the power of determination.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Mar 2, 2006
• ISBN: 9781412232920

Marvin L. Lindberg

This is the author's second book; his first book is The Last Letter. The author is married and lives in Racine, Wisconsin.

Book preview

© Copyright 2005 Marvin L. Lindberg.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

Note for Librarians: a cataloguing record for this book that includes Dewey Decimal Classification and US Library of Congress numbers is available from the Library and Archivesof Canada. The complete cataloguing record can be obtained from their online database at:

www.collectionscanada.ca/amicus/index-e.html

ISBN 1-4120-5074-x

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Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

This book is dedicated to all those

on the front lines of justice.

Chapter One

This was a day that Joe Samson would never forget. It was probably the worst day of his life, at least that he could remember. Yes it was even worse than that dreadful day when he dropped that easy pop fly that lost the Missouri High School baseball championship for his team, the Springfield Tigers.

The day started out promising enough. He awoke at six in the morning at his Ramada Inn Hotel room in Santa Fe, New Mexico. He had a nine o’clock appointment with the purchasing agent for Schroeder Trucking, one of the country’s largest trucking firms. This would be a slam-dunk he kept thinking to himself as he walked through the door to the meeting. There were three men all in white shirts and ties, all having that skeptical look on their faces, looks that develop over time from seeing hundreds of sales reps, all touting the best product in the world.

Joe was selling GPS equipment. His company, Newhall Electronics, manufactured state of the art Global Positioning Systems. These systems would keep track of all their trucks, their stops and starts, and move this trucking firm into the 21st century, with increased efficiency and security. What could go wrong?

I’m sorry, Mr. Samson, but our company is not going to invest at this time in a system that has not yet proven itself. The investment cannot be justified at this time, said Mr. Peterson, the engineer hired by the trucking company to represent them.

The system needs more tweaking, sorry.

Joe walked out of that office devastated. This sale was going to cement his position with his company as a topnotch salesman. With this sale he certainly would deserve a promotion and a raise in pay. Unfortunately now, none of this would happen. He walked down Lincoln Boulevard in a state of disbelief. It was as if he did not know where he was going. Strangers on the street looked like enemies, all in a conspiracy against him.

What went wrong, he thought to himself, as he slowly got into his car. I gave perhaps my best presentation, ever!

He drove away, not really caring where he was going. His mind was far away from any real direction. He kept driving without making any turns, lost in thought, until he reached the freeway. He had no choice but to get on the freeway and drive west.

There was not a lot of traffic that morning. Driving on the freeway seemed to relax him a little. He took a couple of deep breaths and started paying attention to the signs. It was a three-hour presentation that he has just been through, and he was hungry. He spotted one of those signs that say Food-Gas-Lodging. He decided to get off the highway and get something to eat.

Joe pulled into a truck stop that had the highly original name ‘Hi-way Truck Stop.’ Joe was a salesman who traveled over 100,000 miles a year, and had stopped at many truck stops. This one seemed pretty much like all the others.

There were thirty or so trucks parked in the parking lot, many with the engines running. Joe entered the restaurant door. On his right was a trucker’s store, where you could buy anything from country-western CD’s to cowboy boots. On the left was the cashier counter. He was ushered by the hostess to a booth.

The special of the day is country-fried steak, with oven fries, said the waitress with a nice smile. I’ll give you a minute to look at the menu. Would you like coffee?

Yes, said Joe.

Joe looked at the menu, as Patsy Cline was singing on the speaker next to him on the table. He could turn the speaker off if he wanted to, but liking Patsy Cline as he did, he left it on.

I go out walking after midnight, sang Patsy. This seemed to suit his mood for the moment. The waitress returned, and Joe ordered a chicken sandwich.

Joe was alone, eating his sandwich, and wishing that he had someone to talk to about his day. The food gave him a little lift. Patsy Cline also helped, but he still had that empty feeling of non-success. He was feeling depressed.

His thoughts of misery were interrupted by an argument in the booth next to him. A man and woman were arguing from the moment that Joe sat down. He tried not to look their way, to give them privacy, but could not help but tune in to their conversation. More and more he was hearing their argument

If nothing else, listening to someone else’s misery, sort of got him out of his own misery. The man spoke very heatedly and angrily at the woman. He had an obvious accent, maybe mid-eastern or one of the Baltic countries. She appeared to be crying, and very hurt.

I expected that you’d do what I said, said the man.

I did what you asked, I don’t know what else I could have done, she replied.

Come on, we’ve got to get out of here, he said.

The couple left, and Joe looked at them as they passed his booth and paid their bill. She was a pretty, young girl no more than twenty-five or so, blond hair, brown eyes, and wearing a bright orange sweater. That sweater made a special impression on Joe, as he bought an almost identical one for his last girl friend for her birthday. She said she liked it, but never wore it. The man, Joe noticed, was wearing alligator cowboy boots, not so uncommon in this part of the country.

They quickly walked out of the truck stop. They drove away in a gray Dodge van. It looked as though the man slapped her just as they were leaving.

What a jerk, Joe thought.

Joe now did feel better. It is amazing how someone else’s problems can make your own problems seem small and petty. We all seem to wallow in our own concerns, until something snaps us out of it. This couple snapped Joe out of it.

Joe was sipping on his coffee as the couple sped away down the road. ‘Six days on the Road’ was playing on the speaker. Joe was even tapping his fingers to the beat of the music. ‘And I’m gonna make it home tonight’ Joe sang to himself, repeating one of the lyrics of the song.

Well not tonight, he thought. I’ve got a thousand or so miles to go. Not likely.

Joe didn’t have any more appointments scheduled for the week. It was Thursday. He decided to just drive for a while. This was his first visit to the Santa Fe area. He decided to head back on to the freeway towards Santa Fe. It was a beautiful city. He wanted to see more.

Driving on the interstate quickly got boring. It simply is not the way to see the sights. He got off on the first exit. It was a very rural road, not many houses. Joe had seen this movie called The Santa Fe Trail.’ This road reminded him of it. The rocky land wasn’t good for much, certainly not farming. The sign said: ‘6 Miles to Santa Fe.’

Joe noticed a sign that said Santa Fe Heights. It was more of a foothill, really. He decided to drive up there. It was probably a popular place for tourists to see Santa Fe at night, all lit up. It looked like a good place for lovers to come and park for a while.

It was a narrow road, so Jack had to pay attention to every curve.

What was that, Joe said out loud. There was something along the side of the road in a ditch. Joe backed up for about fifty feet, and stopped. Whatever it was, it was orange. Joe gasped. Is that what I think it is? he said.

Joe rushed out of the car and ran over to what was in the ditch. It was the girl in the truck stop. She was beaten and bruised and apparently left for dead.

Can you hear me? he said to the girl.

Yes, please help me. My husband beat me and threw me here. I think he thought I was dead. Please help me.

Joe got his cell-phone out of the car and dialed 911. He described to the operator the location and condition of the girl.

Please rush. Send an emergency vehicle. She is in bad shape. I don’t know how much longer she can make it, said Joe in an obvious state of panic.

Joe rushed back to the girl. She was in a lot of pain, but was still conscious. She appeared to want to talk.

My husband, Rashid, is from Egypt. He married me to become a legal citizen. I didn’t know it then, but I know now that he is illegally importing something along with helping illegal aliens to this country from Mexico. He is doing something terrible. He wanted to kill me because I found out what he was doing. I think he’s doing terrible things. I feel so bad telling you this.

Joe tried his best to console the girl. She said her name was Patricia. They had been married for six months. She said that he was just using her in order not to be deported.

Would you please tell the police, if I don’t live. It would mean so much to me. Call my sister, Mary Cartwright. She lives in Santa Fe. Tell her I’m so sorry, and that I love her. Promise me that Rashid will not get away with this.

I promise you Patricia, I promise you.

Patricia fell out of consciousness. Joe got a blanket out of his trunk and covered her up. He could now only wait for the rescue vehicle.

Joe could not help but admire the girl lying there in the ditch. She was in obvious pain and knew that she probably was not going to live, and yet wanted to leave this world doing something positive. She wanted justice for this man who not only was cruel and deceitful to her, but had evil on his mind towards America. Joe wanted to comfort her, but felt helpless, as she lay unconscious.

Joe heard a siren in the distance. He looked and saw the flashing lights coming towards him.

Hurry, please hurry, Joe said out loud, even hoping the girl would hear him.

The police car pulled up next to the waving arms of Joe.

Over here, quick, yelled an anxious Joe.

The Santa Fe policeman got out of the car quickly, after radioing in his message that he had found the girl. The rescue squad was the next to pull up. In seconds the men carried the gurney to the girl lying in the ditch.

She’s still breathing, said one of the men. Let’s get her in the vehicle. We need to get her to ER fast. She has a good chance to make it.

Joe had never had any personal experience with a rescue squad doing its work. He watched with amazement as they went about their work in an efficient but caring manner. They were so calm and ordered, while he was so rattled and anxious. It was a great source of comfort for Joe that they were here.

Soon the girl was in the rescue vehicle and speeding off to St. Mary’s Hospital in Santa Fe. The policemen, now there were five at the scene, kept working. One of them came over to where Joe was standing.

Hello, I’m Lieutenant Anders from the Santa Fe police department. I need to get your version of this accident. You are Joe Samson, the man who called 911?

Yes I am. But this was no accident. I was driving along the highway and spotted her lying in the ditch. At first I thought she was dead, but then I could see her breathing. She soon noticed I was here, and started talking.

What did she say to you?

She told me her husband beat her up and threw her in the ditch, thinking she was dead. She told me her name, and that she was married to him. His name is Rashid, I believe. She said that she thought he just used her to stay in this country.

How is that? Said Lt. Anders.

By marrying her, he would be able to become a citizen. She also said he was involved in some scheme to get illegal aliens into this country. She also said that he was involved in something terrible, maybe against this country. She thought that he wanted to kill her because she found out what he was doing.

She told you all that?

Yes sir. What is so amazing is that not long before this, I was having lunch in a truck stop, and both of them were in there eating in a booth next to mine. They were arguing. I watched them as they drove away. I noticed that he slapped her.

Did you follow them?

No. I left the restaurant about ten minutes later, and got on the freeway. I just happened to take the exit leading to Santa Fe Heights. A few minutes later I spotted her.

Did you get a good look at, what was his name?

Rashid, I think she said.

O.K., Mr. Samson, we’re going to have to ask you to come to the police station for questioning. You can go with Sergeant Wilson.

What about my car?

We will get it there for you.

Joe had this awful feeling that Lt. Anders was suspecting him. He had a very unsettling feeling all the way to the police station. He would just tell the truth, and everything would be all right.

…………………………..

It was five o’clock in the evening before Joe was told he could leave the police station. He had to fill out some forms and answer a few more questions. Lt. Anders told him they checked over his vehicle and found nothing incriminating. He was free to go, but may be asked to come in again for questioning. He was not a suspect in this case. It wasn’t yet being called a murder case. They had to talk to the husband first.

Joe left the police station with many feelings swirling around in his head. This was a day he would never forget. He lost this big sale, discovered a body in a ditch and was hauled off to the police station for questioning, all in one day. He kept thinking about the girl all through his time at the police station. How was she doing? Was she still alive? He had to find out

Joe got his car out of impoundment and immediately drove to St. Mary’s. He pulled up to the emergency entrance and walked to the front desk.

Hello, I’m Joe Samson. I’m the one who called 911 about Patricia. Can you tell me how she is doing?

I’ll get the doctor who is on duty.

"Hello, I’m Doctor Adams, I’m sorry