by C. M. Sutter
“First, we need to speak with the mayor if he’s capable of putting a sentence together. He has to be told that we’re here and why.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do we even know why we’re here beyond a theory?”
“No, but they don’t need to know that. Let’s check on his condition and then begin. If there’s anything that could incriminate him, it’ll likely be in the desk in the library, on his computer, or in his bedroom suite in a drawer.” Renz headed for the library. “And we may have to take that computer back with us to Tech if it’s password protected.”
I had to agree and then mentioned my thoughts about the bank statements, text messages, and phone calls.
“We’ll go through everything in the house, and if those types of items aren’t here or at his office, we’ll subpoena the bank statements too. If he’s done anything wrong at all, there’s a trail that leads back to him somewhere.”
I rubbed my chin as I thought. “And I bet that trail is directly linked to his attorney or the personal assistant.”
We entered the library to find the mayor slumped in his wingback chair and facing the expansive window that overlooked the lake. He wasn’t staring out, though—he was passed out, and the bottle of bourbon in his hand was teetering and ready to fall to the floor. I removed it, placed it on the desk, and called his name. He grumbled and began to snore.
“Wow, he’s lived a privileged life forever, but his entire existence is reduced to a bottle of booze.” I frowned at Renz. “Why wouldn’t he get help?”
“Don’t know, Jade, but that’s on the mayor and his wife. If he can fake his way through his obligation to the citizens of Milwaukee, that’s his cross to bear, and I’m sure his entire staff covers for him.”
I looked around at the ornate wall coverings and imported furniture. I stared out the window across the lush gardens and at the beautiful blue lake. I sighed. “His life is nothing more than a sad façade. What a waste.”
Renz walked to the desk and pulled open the top drawer. We searched for something that could tell us why ten people had been needlessly murdered.
We spent the next four hours going through the house from top to bottom with our focus on finding documents that showed a payout to someone to keep quiet about something. We came up empty. We found Marie in the living room, reading a book. She looked up and glared.
“Are you done yet?”
“We are for now.” I took a seat across from her on a blue velvet chair. “Why don’t you just tell us how the mayor is involved in the killings? The people who had a loved one murdered are all in one way or another linked to the mayor.”
She shook her head. “Theories, nothing but theories. It’s all you have, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to be left alone now.”
I sighed and stood. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Renz turned back and addressed Marie. “We can come back at any time, and Michael’s office is next. People are going to start talking when they see the FBI in city hall, tearing apart the mayor’s office.” Renz waited as if he expected her to confess, but she remained tight-lipped. “Have it your way. We’ll see ourselves out, and I’m taking the computer and his cell phone with me. I left documents on the desk that stated what was removed from the premises.”
Renz and I walked out. It was late afternoon, and city hall would close in fifteen minutes.
I climbed in the passenger side and buckled up after Renz put the bagged computer and cell phone on the back seat. “I’ll call Taft and see what she wants us to do.”
Renz drove down the driveway and rattled his fingertips on the steering wheel as he waited for the gate to open. “I swear I’m stumped.”
I looked his way. “So am I, partner. So am I.”
Chapter 41
The other cruisers were in their designated parking spaces when we returned to our headquarters. By all appearances, everyone was back. I was excited to learn whether anything was found at the attorney and personal assistant’s offices. Their homes would be searched later, possibly by our evening crew unless our team had already found evidence. I took the elevator with Renz. I didn’t have time to run up three flights of stairs, and when we reached our floor, we went directly to Taft’s office.
I knocked on her half-open door, and Maureen waved us in. She tipped her wrist and checked the time since we had been gone for hours. “Anything?”
The bagged computer and phone were still under Renz’s arm. “Nothing that slapped us across the face as a confession, but I took the computer and the mayor’s cell phone anyway. Tech can see what’s on them as soon as the phone warrant comes in.”
“Go ahead and drop those items off with Tech. The phone warrants should arrive anytime now.”
“Good.”
Taft continued. “So how did the mayor take your intrusion?”
I rolled my eyes. “He didn’t even know we were there. The man was passed out drunk.”
“Hmm… that makes me wonder.”
Renz raised a brow. “Wonder what?”
“If he’s that way all the time or only because of Tamara’s murder.”
I shrugged. “Who knows, but Marie Kent doesn’t seem at all surprised or angered by it. It’s like she’s used to seeing her husband that way.”
“And maybe the mayor’s staff is, too, unless he can get by during work hours without a drink,” Renz said.
Maureen waved us on. “Gather the rest of the group and drop off that computer and phone. We’ll meet in the conference room in five minutes now that everyone is back.”
Minutes later, as we sat at our regular seats, we waited for Charlotte and Kyle to join us. According to Taft, they had followed up on two tip-line sightings of Erik and Cole, but neither had panned out. They were back upstairs and about to come down to join the meeting.
As soon as they entered, Taft began. She addressed her first questions to Tommy and Fay. “What did you find in Julie Beckett’s office?”
“Not a damn thing except a furious personal assistant whose face had gone beet red. I’m sure if there was some communication between her and the mayor on the night of May fifth, it was via email, text, or phone calls. There’s no reason to have incriminating paper documents lying around unless somebody had to sign something. I think searching the phone records is the way to go.”
Renz cut in. “We have the mayor’s cell phone and computer. Once Tech gains access to them, we’ll likely learn a lot.”
Carl and Mike’s account of the search at the attorney’s office proved to have the same result—nothing there that incriminated him.
“Okay, if either of them had contact with the mayor on the night of May fifth, it’ll show up in all three phone records. There could be texts still on the mayor’s phone, or he could have deleted them, but the records would reflect that.”
I tipped my head at Charlotte. “So two false sightings?”
“Not sure if either was false. It’s just that nobody who fits the description of Erik or Cole was in the area when law enforcement got there seconds after the calls. When we arrived, we scoured the neighborhoods ourselves and found nothing. Chasing calls when the alleged suspect is on the move is useless. We can’t track them that way. Somebody has to see them enter stores or houses or know where they’re hiding out.”
Taft turned to Renz. “How soon before Tech can get into the phone?”
“They said within the hour.”
“And Mrs. Kent wouldn’t tell you anything?”
“Not a damn word.”
“What about the archived news articles involving the mayor?”
“Nothing beyond the typical duties he performs every day,” I said.
“Okay, for now, everyone head upstairs and lend a hand going through the tip-line calls. Something we can track has to come through sooner or later—and preferably sooner.”
Chapter 42
“Tell us everything you can remember about that female FBI agent,” Jacob said. He, Evelyn, and Erik sat around the kitchen table
with the laptop opened to the local FBI’s website. “I have to find out her last name and where she lives. After that, we need to know if there’s someone in her life that she cares deeply about. I want her to feel the same anguish as the families who played a part in destroying our lives. The people who own Silver Shores, the bartender who thinks his carnival tricks are entertaining, the attorney and assistant who covered up the mayor’s sins, and the mayor himself.” Jacob glanced at the wall clock. “Someone will die tonight, but it won’t be the mayor. He’s being saved for last—the grand finale—and maybe even with that FBI agent at his side. One thing I know for sure is, if she gets in the way of our plans, she won’t live to see another day.”
Erik described in detail what Jade looked like—shoulder-length black hair, jade-green eyes, tall and slender, and probably in her late thirties. Jacob scrolled through the FBI’s website, but none of the agents’ names, biographies, or photos were shown.
“Damn it. Guess using an abundance of caution is the FBI’s motto. There’s nothing about any agent at all.”
Jacob continued looking online for several hours, going through archived FBI takedowns and noting which agents were involved, their merit awards, promotions, and so on until he found it. An article from nearly four years prior showed a local news photograph from a graduation ceremony for newly minted FBI agents. Jade stood in the second row, and because of her height, she was easy to see. Jacob tapped her name on the computer screen and fist-pumped the air.
“I finally found her. The bitch’s name is Jade Monroe. Now I can do an online search to learn more about her and where she lives.”
Jacob’s mind flashed back to Erik’s carelessness. Because of that, the FBI knew his name, where he had lived, and with whom. They also were aware of his arrest record and the crimes he’d committed in the past that could link him to vigilante or extremist groups in the area.
He isn’t worth hanging on to, and as long as Cole and Lucas stay under the radar, they’ll live to see another day. It’s time to cut off our affiliation with Erik—literally.
Jacob rose from his chair and temporarily powered down the computer. He needed to have a private conversation with Evelyn about Erik’s fate and who would be enlisted to do the deed. It had to be someone whom Erik didn’t know, and it had to take place before dark. Jacob had heard on the scanner earlier that Erik, Cole, and Lucas had APBs out on them. Jacob had already told Erik he was going to be a decoy as a punishment, but Erik had no idea that the plan was about to change.
Jacob led Evelyn into their bedroom and closed the door at his back.
She took a seat on the blanket chest and faced her husband. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, but Erik needs to be eliminated. Brandon was a risk we couldn’t afford, and now Erik is too. We have to complete what we started. It’s God’s will.”
Evelyn nodded. “What do you suggest?”
“Erik knows he has to perform a duty for us as a way to repent of his careless behavior. I’m going to send him to the bus stop on Downer and Newport. He’ll sit in the shelter and wait for my call. I’ll tell him that call is his signal to run because the cops are on their way. Meanwhile, I’ll have someone he doesn’t know take a seat next to him as if he’s also waiting for the bus. What Erik doesn’t know is that person is going to knife him in the lungs, kill him, and go about his day. He won’t know that the police were never coming, but once I hear on the scanner that somebody actually found Erik dead in the bus shelter and the cops are en route, we’ll take our position to watch the drama unfold. They’ll know who Erik is within minutes, alert the FBI, and that’s when the fun will begin. We’ll follow Agent Monroe everywhere she goes until she calls it a night at her own home. We’ll find out even more about her after that. When I told Erik that somebody was going to die that night, he probably didn’t realize I meant it would be him.”
Evelyn nodded. “So who’s going to do the deed?”
“I’ll call James. He owes me a favor, and Erik doesn’t know him.”
“Good choice. He’ll get it done, and we’ll move forward with our plans. We’re getting close to the end, Jacob, and we’ll finally right the wrong that has been covered up for nearly five and a half months. The city is about to learn the truth, and we’ll have the satisfaction of exacting our revenge on all who were involved. The Bible says an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, and no matter what, we’re not about to turn the other cheek.”
Jacob grasped the doorknob. “So we’re in agreement? I should call James?”
“Yes, do it now. The sooner we accomplish our mission the sooner we’ll have closure.”
They walked out of the bedroom and saw Erik sitting in the living room, staring at his phone. Jacob asked for his attention. “We’ve come up with a plan. I want you to go to the bus stop at Downer and Newport. You’ll sit there and do nothing until I call you. When I do, you’ll take off, get lost in the neighborhood, then return to the house. Meanwhile, we’ll be there watching once the cops arrive.”
“How will the cops know I’m there?”
“There’s an APB out for you, Cole, and Lucas, but you’re the main person they’re looking for because of Brandon.”
Erik stared at the floor and kept silent.
“I’ll call in the sighting, then I’ll be listening to the scanner. When the cops are within a block of you, I’ll call your phone. That’ll be your cue to get the hell out of there. Evelyn and I will already be somewhere nearby so we can watch the scene play out, and hopefully, Agent Monroe will show up. I’m assuming when they realize nobody fitting your description is there, they’ll leave, and maybe she’ll just head home. No matter what, we’ll follow her. We’re trying to draw her in and then take her out so she doesn’t interfere with our mission. We intend to complete the entire plan by Thursday night, and I don’t want any hiccups from the FBI. Do you understand your instructions?”
“Yes. Sit in the bus shelter until you call me and then run back to the house before the cops arrive.”
“Exactly, and speak to nobody.” Jacob checked the time. “Go ahead. We want it to still be light outside when they arrive in case the agent is with them. I want a positive ID of her, and then we’ll take it from there. The walk is only five blocks. Keep your head down until you get there, and then run like hell when I call you. The key to the back door is on top of the coach light.”
Erik stood and walked to the door. “I promise I won’t let you down.”
Jacob smiled. “Good, because I’m counting on you.”
Chapter 43
Wearing one of Jacob’s sweatshirts, Erik kept his head down as he took the fifteen-minute walk to the bus shelter. He knew Jacob was disappointed in his mistakes. After shooting Brandon, Erik had left at the apartment the jacket that he’d worn while committing the murder. Checking for gunshot residue had to be the only reason the FBI showed up for the second time, took the jacket, and left. The only way they would have made the connection with the jacket was if there actually was a camera in that alley area and Erik had overlooked it. He must have walked into the frame, and the FBI recognized him and his jacket and came calling. The county crime lab had to have found GSR on the sleeves, or Erik wouldn’t be wanted for murder.
He couldn’t believe how badly he’d messed up. Now he had to pay the price and complete his task, and hopefully, he would be forgiven. He had to do better going forward.
Erik reached the bus shelter and took a seat. He stared at the intersection and watched traffic go by as he waited for the call from Jacob. A man wearing a gray hoodie gave him a nod as he took a seat to Erik’s left. Neither man spoke. Erik had been told to keep quiet, sit patiently, and leave immediately when the call came in.
Several minutes passed in silence, then Erik grunted loudly and doubled over. He gasped for air as a sharp pain overtook his left side.
The stranger next to him pushed the knife deeply into Erik’s left lung and twisted the handle. The man pulled out the knife and buri
ed it once more, that time in Erik’s left kidney, until Erik collapsed against the side of the shelter. The man took Erik’s phone from his pocket and walked away.
The last words Erik heard were “The deed is done.”
Chapter 44
We’d been upstairs, separating the realistic leads from the absurd ones, when Renz’s cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, spoke for a second, then rushed all of us downstairs to Taft’s office once more.
Maureen didn’t have time to elaborate about the phone call she’d just received, but in a few sentences, she’d said we needed to get to the intersection of Downer and Newport immediately. A man had just arrived at the bus shelter there and originally thought the man next to him was a sleeping homeless person until he saw the blood on the seat. He called the nearest police station, and two units arrived and realized the dead man was none other than Erik Smalley, the alleged murderer who had an APB and warrant out for his arrest.
We headed out in two cruisers with lights flashing and made it to the scene in twenty minutes. The police had already cordoned off the entire block around the bus shelter and had diverted traffic to parallel streets.
There was only an hour left before night would take over the sky, and we needed to see what we could while we still had daylight. We pulled out our IDs as the team dipped under the police tape and headed straight for the body. From fifty feet away, I could already see that the dead man was Erik. He was slumped against the right Plexiglas wall of the shelter. Blood had pooled on the seat next to him and dripped to the concrete floor after drenching his sweatshirt.
The forensic team arrived just after us and took over the scene. I was thankful they would be able to get decent pictures before it was too dark. We backed away temporarily and asked the officers for details of the moments they got there and who the caller was. Charlotte and Kyle spoke to them at the barricade while Renz and I followed up with the 911 caller as he sat in the back of a squad car. We needed his account of everything he’d seen and done before realizing the man in the shelter was dead. The rest of our team canvassed the area and spoke with the onlookers. According to everyone’s account, they hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary, and that response seemed to come more frequently every time we asked. People seemed to live in a cell phone bubble and didn’t pay much attention to anything beyond that three-by-five-inch screen in front of their noses. The only person with anything to say was the caller, and we listened carefully to his every word.
