LET ME GO (Eva Rae Thomas Mystery Book 5)

by Willow Rose

  Chapter 32

  “Dang it, Jamal!”

  I tapped on my iPhone, trying to call him but kept getting his voicemail. I stared at the computer screen in front of me, where Jamal was driving around Montreal with a taxi driver who was telling stories about his town.

  “Why would you do this? Why would you make a video revealing your whereabouts? When we specifically told you to keep a low profile!”

  I was yelling at him on the screen since I couldn’t get ahold of him on the phone. My heart was racing in my chest, and I was shivering. It felt so devastating because there was absolutely nothing I could do.

  There was a loud knock on my door, and Liam’s voice yelled from the other side. “Eva Rae? Open up!”

  I opened the door and let him inside. “Are you okay?” he asked while walking in, wearing nothing but a bathrobe over his boxers.

  I showed him the screen and turned on the video. “This is from today. From Montreal. Jamal just revealed his whereabouts to the entire world.”

  “Oh, dear,” Liam said and looked at the video, then up at me.

  “I subscribed to his videos to keep an eye on him,” I said. “When I saw the notification that he was live-streaming, I just about had a heart attack. How could he be this stupid? Can you explain this to me?”

  “He’s fourteen,” Liam said and sat on my bed. “He doesn’t think.”

  I looked at Liam. “Were you sleeping? It’s eight-thirty?”

  “Yeah, well, I like to go to bed early. I usually get up at four-thirty to get a good start. Then I go to the gym before I eat my oatmeal and then head to the studios for the taping of my show. I also have nine restaurants that I need to make sure are running properly. They’re located around the world, so I often make a lot of calls in the early morning hours to check in on them.”

  “Wow,” I stopped him, feeling exhausted just from hearing this. “I don’t think we could ever be friends. All that is just a little too intense for me.”

  Liam chuckled. “It is for most people. And I am not here to be your friend anyway. I don’t have friends; I have no time for them in my schedule. I am here to catch whoever killed Tim and make sure they pay.”

  “Okay. It was just an expression, but I’m glad we got that cleared up,” I said with a deep sigh. I stared at Jamal on my computer, feeling all kinds of worry in my heart. Why wasn’t the kid picking up his phone?

  “Can we call someone?” Liam asked. “The local police? Can we warn them, maybe? Tell them what might happen?”

  “They’re probably not going to believe us.”

  I grabbed my phone in my hand, then searched on the computer and found the number for the City of Montreal Police Department.

  “But I guess it’s worth a try. Here goes nothing.”

  Liam placed a soothing hand on top of mine and looked into my eyes. It startled me and puzzled me at the same time. I couldn’t figure this guy out. He kept pushing me away, then being extremely nice to me. The strange part was that it sort of made him oddly attractive to me, even though I fought it with every fiber of my being. Was it possible to hate someone yet desperately want them to kiss you at the same time?

  Chapter 33

  “What’s going on, Jamal? Why are you suddenly so pale?”

  Jamal looked at his momma, fighting the panic attack that was about to erupt inside of him. His hands were shaking terribly as he leaned forward and whispered.

  “Momma, I need you to remain calm now, okay?”

  “Calm? What do you mean calm?” she asked loudly, doing the exact opposite.

  Jamal stared at the big window leading to the street. They were sitting upstairs, but he could still see the blinking lights outside and had spotted at least three men in uniform setting up outside. The street had been closed off. There had to be at least a dozen police cars. Some of the cops were hiding behind their vehicles with their rifles pointed at the door.

  Were they here for him?

  “What’s happening, Jamal?” Asia said, her voice quivering slightly. She was a smart girl and had figured out that something was going on. “Where did everybody go?”

  “They went outside,” he said. “And in a few minutes, the police are probably going to come in here…”

  “The police?” his mother squealed.

  “Yes, Momma. Now, you listen carefully, both of you. They’re coming here because someone…”

  Jamal didn’t get to finish his sentence before the door was kicked open, and they heard the sound of heavy boots on the stairs. Jamal couldn’t breathe. His chest felt so tight it was like it was impossible to get any air into his lungs. He took small short breaths that felt like they got stuck in his throat and made him feel dizzy.

  “What’s going on, Jamal?” his momma wailed when they came storming and yelling up the stairs in their black uniforms, Kevlar vests, helmets, and assault rifles pointed at the three of them.

  “Stay calm,” Jamal said. “And do as they tell you to.”

  “Calm?” his momma yelled as the SWAT team came closer, yelling at them. They knelt and kept their guns pointed at them. They were still yelling, and Jamal knew it was in French, but he didn’t understand the words. It became clear to one of the officers, and he switched to English.

  “Hands up. Keep them up!”

  “What in the…?” His momma looked at them, then at her son. “Did you do something? Are they here for you? Did you get yourself in trouble, son? I knew this vacation was too good to be true. It always is.”

  “Just do as they tell you, Mom,” he said and shot both of his hands in the air. His sister did the same, but his mother was reluctant.

  “Put your hands up,” the officer yelled again, “and then get up slowly and come over here. Slowly.”

  “I ain’t doing no such thing,” Jamal’s mother suddenly started. “I am on vacation. And now you people come in here yelling and pointing those things at us like we’re some darn terrorists or somethin’. Now, if my son did something, then at least tell us what it is. We have a right to know why you are arresting him.”

  “Come over here,” the officer repeated. “I’m not playing around. Come over here now.”

  Jamal did as he was told. He walked slowly toward the officers, keeping his trembling hands up in the air. He was barely able to walk because of the waves of fear rushing through his body, yet he managed to take the few steps it took to get to them. One of them approached him.

  “Are you carrying any weapons?” he asked. “Answer me!”

  Jamal shook his head. “N-no.”

  Another officer started to pat him down, then shook his head when he didn’t find anything. Jamal could hear a chopper circling the air outside.

  “Can I get an explanation back here?” his mother complained.

  She still hadn’t gotten up from her seat, and Jamal knew that once she got into that mood, it was hard to get her to calm down again. But he really desperately needed her to. He needed her to for once be gentle as a lamb.

  Just this once, just for today.

  “Why are you treating my son like this, huh? He ain’t done nothing to you people. Is it just because he’s black? I’ll tell ya what we call this where we’re from. We call it racism. This is racist.”

  Her words made the officers turn their attention and their guns on her.

  “Ma’am, would you please come over here too?” the officer said, still pointing his gun in her direction. Asia was crying now, and Jamal wanted to comfort her. She was standing with her hands in the air, her small body shaking with fear. The officer told her to come closer. She whimpered but stood frozen in fear. It was like she couldn’t move even if she wanted to.

  “Please,” Jamal said. “She’s scared.”

  Jamal’s mother rose to her feet. “Leave her alone. She didn’t do nothin’. We’re just here on vacation; that’s all. You have no right to do this to us.”

  Jamal turned to look at her, but as he did, he felt a hard blow in the neck as the officer h
it him with his rifle. The blow caused him to fall forward to his knees while he fought to stay conscious. Everything inside of him whirred, and there was a ringing in his ears. He couldn’t hear what was going on outside of his body and suddenly felt a forceful push in the back as two men were on top of him, pressing his face into the ground, a knee in his back. He looked at his mother and sister, then saw his mother take off toward him, her massive body bolting forward, her mouth torn in a distorted scream. In the distance, he could hear muffled voices yelling, and he realized he was slowly getting his hearing back. As the shot was fired and the bullet whistled through the air, then ripped through his mother’s chest, and she fell to the ground with a loud thud, he heard everything. He could hear every little brutal detail, and he knew instantly that he would be hearing it for many more years to come when waking up in sweaty nightmares.

  Chapter 34

  I stared at Matt across the kitchen counter in my house. I had come back from New Orleans as soon as I learned what had happened to Jamal and his family. There was nothing more I could do, and I needed to be with the people I loved. As soon as I came in through the door, I had thrown myself in Matt’s arms and told him everything, while crying. He poured me a glass of Chardonnay while he had a beer.

  “I know I should have told you the story a long time ago, but, well…at first, I wasn’t sure I was right, and then I was scared that you wouldn’t believe me or that you would think I was crazy or something.”

  He scoffed and ran a hand through his thick hair. His soft eyes lingered on me, and I felt guilty for having admitted to finding Liam attractive. I had the best man in the world right there, and there was no one else that made me happy the way he did.

  “Sometimes, I feel like you don’t know me very well, Eva Rae, even though we’ve known each other since pre-school. Of course, I believe you. I’ve heard about swatting in the gaming community before, as a means of punishment for killing someone in a game or just to play a prank on someone. But this? This is insane. You mean to tell me there is someone deliberately killing people by swatting them?”

  “I believe he has killed twelve people so far, yes. But there could be many more. The thing is, he’s not limited by where he lives. He can call any police station in any county in any state in the country, well apparently also out of the country as we just have seen. He can simply tell them that there is a hostage situation, a bomb, or whatever he comes up with. He could be doing it right now as we speak. There’s nothing holding him back. All he needs is a phone and an address. The police have to act on it; they have to send in their strongest team for a situation like that. They’re nervous and scared because the killer has told them he’ll shoot them if they come, or that he’ll blow everything to pieces like he told them in Montreal. They don’t know who is holding the bomb or who poses a danger, so they’ll shoot first and ask later. And it can end fatally for anyone present, even a poor mother running to help her son, trying to protect him from what she believes is police brutality.”

  “She died?” Matt asked.

  I nodded, biting my lip. I was giving my nails a break for once since they were almost completely gnawed down to the roots.

  “In the ambulance on their way to the hospital. Jamal is inconsolable. So is his sister. Their aunt has come to Montreal to be with them. She’ll take them in, but those kids…man…they’re destroyed, Matt. Completely broken.”

  “What does the Montreal Police Department say?” Matt asked and sipped his beer.

  “They’ve given the children a public excuse, but how is that going to help them? The prime minister has even held a press conference where he said publicly how awfully saddened he is by this horrific incident and that they’ll prosecute the officer who shot. They’ve released the transcripts from the call, and I have to say, I can’t blame them for reacting the way they did, for being terrified. You know how it is when coming into a situation like this. The caller clearly states that he has a bomb in his bag and that he is going to blow the place up. He also states that he has killed his father and that the entire family wanted to die doing this.”

  Matt swallowed and put the beer down, giving me a look. “There’s a couple of things I don’t understand here. You told me that most of the calls come in at 8:56 p.m. This one didn’t.”

  “No, it came at seven-forty. My guess is the killer needed to do it at that time,” I said. “That getting to Jamal weighed heavier. Maybe he wanted it to happen in a public place.”

  “Why? He could have sent them to the apartment they rented instead. In the middle of the night.”

  I nodded. It was true. Was the guy changing up the game? But why? Usually, serial killers would only divert from their MO if they were afraid of being caught, but this guy didn’t know we were onto him. Did he?

  “My second question is, how did this guy know where to find Jamal Robinson? Hadn’t you just told him to leave and not tell anyone where he went?”

  “He made a live video during the taxi drive from the airport,” I said. “I watched it. I had told him to keep under the radar, but he must have felt he needed to give his viewers something, or he might lose them.”

  “So, he made the video just shortly before the swatting happened?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Seems awfully close, doesn’t it?”

  “What do you mean? He could have seen it, just like I did, then made the call.”

  Matt nodded pensively while taking another sip.

  “You don’t think so?” I asked.

  “No, no. Of course, it’s a possibility. Guys like him are always on or near the computer, but I just don’t understand how he knew exactly where to find them. If he made a video in the taxi, then did he also say where they were going out to eat? Did he mention that in the video?”

  I shook my head. Matt had a point.

  “Did you know where he was?” Matt asked.

  I wrinkled my forehead. “I guess there are other ways to find out….”

  “Did you? Did he tell you?”

  “He did. He texted me from the airport and told me that they had landed and that he was looking for a good burger joint. He also said that the guy helping them with their luggage had given them the name of a place; it was something French…where are you going with this?”

  He shook his head again. “Nowhere. Just thinking out loud…could he have texted anyone else?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I told him not to. But he might have. I also told him not to make any videos, and he still did that. His agent might have known. Maybe a friend, a girlfriend, who knows?”

  “And you’ll probably never find out, but it is odd that he was found,” Matt said, sipping his beer. “And I do think that this killer knows you’re onto him. He must know you talked to Jamal. That’s why he’s changing his tactics. Either to try and lose you or maybe because he wants to play games.”

  “And me getting to Jamal before he did has angered him,” I said. “Up until now, he’s believed himself to be invincible, to be able to commit the perfect murder. I’ve disrupted that.”

  “And you know what that means.”

  “I have put a target on my own back.”

  Matt sighed deeply.

  “Exactly.”

  Chapter 35

  “With us this morning on a Skype call from her hospital bed is Amal Bukhari. In case you don’t know who Amal Bukhari is, she’s one of the world’s most popular YouTubers and online gamers. She was recently shot on an airplane when the police thought she was carrying a bomb. Ever since, she has been hospitalized and gone through surgery after surgery to get back to life. Good morning to you, Amal. How are you feeling today?”

  Amal smiled at her camera. The hostess on Good Morning America had briefed her shortly before they went live, and the connection had been terrible, but now it seemed to be better.

  “Good morning. I’m okay,” she said. “But I am quite outraged.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because i
t has happened again. Two days ago, Jamal Robinson, or Buddha as we call him in the gaming world, lost his mother in a restaurant in Montreal.”

  “It’s been all over the news,” the host said. “I think most people have heard about it, but in case you haven’t, let me quickly explain that the police in Montreal went to the restaurant after receiving a bomb threat for the restaurant, and they shot and killed Jamal’s mother, who was forty-eight. A terrible tragedy that has sent shockwaves through all of us, especially in the world of social media and the gaming community, naturally.”

  “It makes me so angry because it was exactly the same thing that happened to me,” Amal said. “They shoot first and ask questions later. The police brutality we are experiencing in this day and age is worse than anything in history. We are going in the wrong direction. We are going backward.”

  “And you believe it is racism?”

  “Look at my brown face,” Amal said. “The SWAT team did and immediately believed I had to be a terrorist. Would they have reacted the same way had I been white? Would they have they shot Jamal’s mom if she had been a white mom trying to help her son? Would they have knocked the kid to the ground if he hadn’t been black? I don’t think so. We all know this is happening all over the country and even out of the country too. Why not say it the way it is? They look at our skin color and decide our lives aren’t as important as someone who is white.”

  “The police call what happened to you ‘an unfortunate accident.’ How do you react to that?”

  Amal scoffed. “They try to kill me and then they call it an accident? I don’t buy it. There is something wrong deep inside our system and within our police force. And that is why I want the officer who shot me to pay for what he did. I am bound to a bed right now and will never live a normal life again.”

  “They tell me he was fired afterward; isn’t that enough?”

  She shook her head. “No! If you try to kill someone, you need to go to jail. I want this guy to serve time.”