A Fall of Woodcocks (The Birdwatcher Series Book 5)

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A Fall of Woodcocks (The Birdwatcher Series Book 5) Page 3

by European P. Douglas


  “Anonymous, there was a cell number we’re following up,” Doug replied. Freeman didn’t think that avenue was going to lead to anything but it something that had to be done. “You think this is the same Sarah as yours?” Doug asked.

  “I’m sure of it,” Freeman replied.

  “What does it mean?” Doug asked.

  “It’s a case she was working on,” he said, “She’s on administrative leave now. The killer must want her back on the job.”

  “You know who did this?”

  “No, but I’m sure it’s an FBI matter now, you better give them a call about it.”

  “I won’t be sorry to get rid of this one,” Doug said taking one more look at the ghastly scene before turning away from it. Freeman followed him.

  “Thanks for letting me know about this,” he said.

  “No problem,” Doug said. “You should go home and get some sleep; you look like you’ve been up a few days.”

  “Feels like it too,” Freeman agreed. “How’s the flying going?”

  “I’m a natural now, like I was born in that little plane,” Doug replied, his face lighting up at the mention of his passion. He’d been a left a plane by his rich father-in-law who never thought he’d have the guts to fly it. Now it was all Doug talked about and he flew it every opportunity he got.

  “Glad to hear it,” Freeman smiled, “but you’ll never get me the fly if you’re the pilot!”

  After leaving the scene, Freeman walked the two blocks to his parked car. Away from the hubbub and gathered crowd at the house, the street and neighborhood were deathly quiet. This made it all the easier for Freeman to know that someone was following him. He heard the unhurried footsteps behind him and glanced in car and house windows for a reflection. He saw a man but couldn’t make him out, he was looking back towards the gathering at the house like he was making sure no one was watching. Freeman had a bad feeling about this, and he put a hand inside his billowing coat and gripped the butt of his gun.

  “Stop where you are!” he said spinning as fast as he could drawing his gin on his follower. The man stopped and held up his hands at once.

  “Whoa, whoa, calm down Detective!” the man said. Freeman recognized him, it was a Simons, a reporter for the ‘Baltimore Times.’

  “Sneaking up on a cop is a good way to get yourself killed,” Freeman said putting his gun way.

  “Sorry, I just saw you leaving and thought I’d come over and check in, see how you were doing,” Simons said.

  “I’m fine,” Freeman said, and he turned and started walking towards his car once more.

  “What has you here tonight, Detective Freeman?” Simons asked following him again. “Your friend Patterson has the case. You’re not partners and yet here you are? I saw you come out of the house.” Freeman was about to say goodnight without comment when he thought on it a moment. He turned and looked at Simons; the reporter had been useful in the past and Freeman felt he was a decent guy.

  “If you can keep my name out of it, I can give you an exclusive,” he said.

  “You got it,” Simons said coming closer to him. Freeman didn’t know if letting the press know what was written on the woman’s body would be of any benefit to Sarah’s case for reinstatement, but he didn’t think it could hurt. It wouldn’t be long before he found out.

  Chapter 7

  Dan Martin was the agent in charge of the still mostly secretive Dwight Spalding case. He was a veteran of the FBI and had worked on many of the famed cases in the Western half of the United States over the last fifteen years. He hadn’t been happy when Sarah Brightwater was put on the team, nor when Pedro Delgado was added just after that. This case was too big to have personal issues involved and Dan also had no doubt Delgado had been put on the case to keep an eye on Brightwater as part of a power clash at the top of the Behavioural Science Unit at Quantico. Both of those people were now off his team but not for reasons he would have wished.

  Dan had found both agents hardworking and talented. Delgado’s slaying was a terrible end to a promising FBI career and Brightwater’s naiveté in working with a clandestine serial killer had showed her to be lacking in judgment. Her rumoured attempt on her life at that time was not hard to believe. Well, no matter what happened she was now on forced leave and seeing the psych team.

  Being on leave didn’t seem to be holding her back much though. An anonymous call had come in for the Spalding case with a bunch of coordinates. Martin had listened to the recording and there was no doubt in his mind it was Sarah who called it in. He didn’t know where she’d gotten the information yet, but he was sure the coordinates would lead his team to more Spalding hideouts.

  Now to add to his woes, it looked like Spalding had sent them a message, a very clear message stating he wanted Sarah back on the case. Dan had not been to the crime-scene himself but had seen photos of the body of Vicky Siren. He was too busy mounting the operations against the new coordinates to travel but he meant to get involved in that case as soon as he was done with his current task.

  Up to now, Dan Martin had watched all raids and searches in the Spalding case from a central command post in southern New Jersey, but now he wanted to be at the scene for as much as he could. He jumped in the helicopter and flew to South Carolina, the site of the new coordinates. Aerial surveillance showed an old farmhouse, but this one looked different to any other Spalding site as it seemed to be a working farm. This didn’t make sense to Martin. Had this been a trick by Spalding on Sarah and thus the FBI? Or could this possibly be Sarah’s petty revenge on her employers? Sending them off on a wild goose chase?

  “Do we have a phone number for the site?” Martin asked when he landed.

  “It was cut off for non-payment of bills about six months ago,” an aide informed him after checking some notes.

  “Who is the land owner?”

  “Land is owned and farmed by Judd Farnon,” the aide said. “He lives with his wife Paula, and sons Derek and Gordon.”

  “What kind of farm is it?”

  “Crops, and very limited dairy for local producers.”

  “And they are still in operation with the outside world?” Another shuffle of paper.

  “Up to the last expected delivery, yes,” the aide said.

  They entered the building and the team stood and saluted, Martin returned this to the room and made for a large table overloaded with maps. He looked at the satellite photos and had to admit the place looked like any other normal small family farm.

  “Has anyone been out to the farm lately, police or animal welfare people, safety inspectors?” he asked.

  “Just running that now, sir,” someone’s voice came from the far side of the room. Martin looked his direction and barked,

  “Get it done faster!” The operative nodded but kept his eyes glued to his screen.

  “Nothing showing up for the last nine months,” the operative said after a few moments of silence.

  “They must be due a safety inspection soon then,” Martin mused. He looked at the maps of the area, the land owned by the family. There were very few outbuildings on the land and only small patches of land that didn’t have rows of crops covering them.

  “I’m going out there,” he said. He felt a few glances exchanged in the room, but no one challenged him. “Is the tactical unit ready to go?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir, out the back door,,” the driver said. She was standing by the door the whole time in anticipation of this moment.

  “All operatives in the unit in the next two minutes,” Martin barked, “We’re going to pay a visit to this place.”

  On the drive on the way, Martin watched the live images from the drone that flew on ahead of them. He was looking out for any imperfections or rises in the land that might house an underground bunker, but he still had his doubts about finding anything here. It just seemed too normal a place for Spalding to use, so unlike any of the others discovered so far.

  “They’ve spotted the drone, sir,” the drone ope
rator said, and Martin saw a man in his fifties and a younger man—most likely Farnon and one of his sons— in the middle of a field. They were looking up to the drone and pointing. What would they be thinking, Martin wondered? They didn’t look worried or frightened, just a little confused perhaps. Maybe they had never even heard of a drone before, or at least had never seen one. Martin felt this was going to be a complete waste of time.

  Nothing was detected from any of the drone sweeps of the land and a visual from the tactical unit van didn’t see anything worrisome either. The two men had walked from the field and were now in the dusty open area in front of the family home watching the approaching huge van with interest.

  Martin stood up, donned his helmet— better safe than sorry— and exited the unit.

  “Mr Farnon?” he asked as he approached the two men. He saw now that a woman was the door to the house looking on. She looked more fearful than the men did. Martin was aware that there should be one more male somewhere about. He whispered to keep a look out for him into this comms-mic.

  “Yes,” the man answered to Martin’s question. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “I’m Special Agent Martin from the FBI, can you tell me where your other son is?” Martin said.

  “Gordon?” Farnon looked confused, as did who must be Derek.

  “Yes, where is he?”

  “He should be in the shed here about now,” Farnon said nodding his head and then he called out, “Gordon, you in there?” It was a really loud shout and Farnon turned back to Martin in apology, “Sorry, he can’t hear well.” A few seconds later another man, looking very similar to Derek came out of the shed. He looked completely surprised by the huge van and armored man before him.

  “What the hell’s going on?” he said.

  “Is everyone on the farm here at the moment?” Martin asked.

  “This is all of us,” Farnon nodded. He looked like an assured man, like it would take a lot to ruffle him.

  “Get a camera on all four faces,” Martin whispered to his team. He wanted to see all of their reactions when he asked his next question. He decided to swivel his head from Farnon to his wife as he asked it. “Are you all okay? Is anyone in danger?” Martin listened to the feedback from the van,

  “Farnon looks untroubled.”

  “Gordon looks confused but not alarmed.”

  “Derek looks calm, but his leg is now fidgeting.”

  “Mrs Farnon...”

  “I can see,” Martin interrupted this last one. He started walking to Mrs Farnon. “We can help you,” he said, “I know you’re in trouble. Dwight Spalding has been here hasn't he? Someone is in danger if you don’t obey him.”

  “Don’t say anything,” Farnon said to his wife and he started towards her.

  “Stay where you are please, Mr Farnon,” Martin warned but he kept looking at Mrs Farnon. “We’re here to save you,” he said to her. She didn’t say anything, but he could see the emotion welling up inside of her. Her eyes gleamed with tears yet to fall and her pushed lips held in her cry. Her eyes darted suddenly to one of the outbuilding and then back to Martins. He nodded, looked to the building and then back to her. “You did the right thing,” he said.

  Chapter 8

  Tyler had thought about skipping over the border into Canada and heading east before dropping back down into the States but decided against the idea. Usually, those border crossings would be no trouble at all, but there was a slim chance one of the guards might notice him now. It would be easiest to travel back across the country by road. It was a long drive though and he was going to have to go in a few different cars, and perhaps some bus journeys thrown in to rest. He bought a used car that seemed to be in good condition and brought it to a garage for a service and tune up. The last thing he needed was the be stranded out on some dark country road in the middle of the night and picked up by a state trooper or some other good Samaritan.

  Anna was on his side, that was one good thing, and it took some pressure off the last legs of his journey. He had send her some money and when he asked, she was going to rent a car and drive up to meet him somewhere for the last leg of the trip back to Virginia. She had also mentioned a place he could stay where he would be safe.

  The night before he set off, Tyler sat in his motel room and kept an eye on the news back east. He was waiting to hear something about the Spalding places he’d sent Sarah, but so far there was nothing. It might have been overshadowed by the message Spalding had sent himself. He’d killed a woman and requested through etchings on her skin that Sarah be put back to work. Tyler had tried to find out why Sarah was off work in the first place, but without the use of his contacts it was hard to find out anything. Reading between the lines, he felt she must have had some kind of nervous breakdown and he didn’t have to wonder what, or who, had caused that.

  That feeling of regret came over him again. It was so alien to him that it made him feel nauseous. He led his mind away from it, on to what he was going to do for Sarah to make it up to her. He was going to deliver Spalding up to her, end the torment in her life and allow her to get on with things like any normal person should be able to. His own revenge crept in over this idea and it was impossible not to know that this was the ultimate driver of his desire to kill Spalding. He had destroyed the life Tyler had spent so many years building up and cultivating. He would never be able to work in his chosen profession again, and the house he had loved was now only a memory to him, never to be seen again. What would become of it, he wondered. The way people were these days, it would probably end up as a museum about the ‘Birdwatcher’ or something just as grim. Would teenagers hike through the forests to stay on his land and tell ghost stories about him? Dare one another to go into the house alone for a few seconds? Probably.

  Where would his life be once Spalding was gone? Could he live in this country, under a new name, a new identity? Perhaps he could. He was intelligent and he was sure he could pass any college course, get a degree in a new field, and settle into a new profession. He could do something under the radar in a quiet corner of the country. Leave on ‘business’ and kill as he’d done in the past, only this time he would be more careful about any trail he might leave behind. Maybe this time, it would be good to have a wife and maybe a few kids, another layer of cover he’d never afforded himself before.

  His phone vibrated bringing him out of his thought stream. He looked and saw the green glowing notification light that told him this was a message from Anna. He wasn’t expecting one and he hoped she wasn’t getting to carried away. Her eagerness could cause trouble if they weren’t careful. He read the message.

  Going on an out of State test drive today. Will stay in Georgia a couple of days and then come back.

  Tyler didn’t know what to make of this. What was her reasoning here? He supposed it was good she was going to Georgia and not practising on a northerly route she would use to come get him, but he didn’t see why she was doing this. He didn’t want to ask either in case she felt this was somehow a criticism of her.

  Georgia is a lovely place to spend a few days. Good luck. His message back was non-committal but also couldn't be misconstrued he felt. Let her off and play her games if he wanted, what was that to him? She was excited, obviously couldn’t sit around waiting any longer and thought this was a good idea. Perhaps a cover for her next trip in a week or so. He wondered what Anna was telling people she knew about her drive to Georgia. Was she building a story that see her have to drive to Illinois or Wisconsin soon? She was a clever girl; he was sure she was working on something.

  Tyler waited for a while, but she didn’t send another message. She must be placated with his endorsement. He sat back and went through the news again, this time reading up all he could about the Vicky Siren murder. The scoop seemed to have come from Edward Simons, a reporter from the ‘Baltimore Times.’ He was good enough, below Tyler in his own estimation, but his stories were always fairly well fact checked and this time Tyler was sure a deliber
ate leak was the source of the news. Was it Spalding or someone on the police force, he wondered? It didn’t really matter; the information was out there now either way.

  Tyler went for a run and showered and then checked on all the news one last time before retiring to ed that night. He had a long drive ahead of him tomorrow and he was going to need his rest.

  Chapter 9

  The call wasn’t wholly unexpected, but Sarah was still taken by surprise. What made it all the more surprising was that it was Dan Martin himself who made the call.

  “How can I help you, sir?” she said when she knew who it was.

  “We’re here at the site you called in, Sarah,” Dan said.

  “But...” Sarah started to deny any knowledge of this.

  “No need for any bullshit right now,” Dan said cutting her off, “I’m at the site and there are people here trapped in an underground bunker within a farm barn. The family who run the farm have been feeding the people but didn’t feel safe trying to contact the police for obvious reasons.”

  “What did he do, threaten to kill everyone if they didn’t go along with his idea?” Sarah asked. She was pissed off with these people whoever they were. This could have all ended a long time ago if they’d come forward.

  “He said he’d kill the family after he killed everyone down below,” Dan went on. “The head of the family said they’ve been looking for a way to break these people out but say Spalding keeps an eye on the camera footage and also makes in person visits whenever it suits him.”

  “Jesus, they must be terrified,” she said, starting to feel something for these people.

  “They are, and they’re not too happy that we’re here either,” Dan said.

  “Why are you calling me about this?” Sarah asked after a short pause.

  “I want your insight,” Dan said. Sarah didn’t think this was true, not entirely in any case. They only way she’d been able to save Ellie that second time Spalding took her was because Spalding wanted her alive. He still wanted her, the gruesome ‘letter’ to the FBI was proof enough of that.

 

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