Games of Guilt: A Crime Thriller (Hidden Guilt Book 3 of 3)

by Terry Keys

  Chapter 32

  Tess struggled to open her eyes. Her head pounded and she found it hard to breathe. She had a mask strapped to her face. She was tied and bound in a chair–tie wraps. She pulled and tugged but it was no use.

  Fear finally set in. They came back for her, just like they’d said they would. But why? She’d done what they asked her to do—every bit of it.

  Then Tess heard a familiar voice come booming into the room.

  “Hello, Tess,” Caleb said as he and Marci watched through a two way mirror. “So sad to have to see you again like this, but we warned you. You broke the rules.”

  “No, I swear I didn’t. I only did what you asked. Nothing more. Please don’t hurt me or my son.” Tears streamed down her face.

  “Ahhh. . . c’mon, Tess. Level with me here. We didn’t even have a game plan for you. I just knew that you’d be a good girl.”

  Marci leaned over and nudged Caleb. “I told you the bitch would try something. The rich don’t know how to do what they’re told. They are used to giving orders, not taking them.” Caleb didn’t respond.

  “Please. Please! I’m begging you. Please don’t hurt me.”

  “Tess, stop. I don’t want to hear any more of this shit from you. Do you think I’m a freaking idiot, Tess? Do you?”

  “No, no. Not at all. You’re probably a genius, for all I know. From what I can tell anyway.” Tess tried to pander to Caleb, hoping it would calm him down some.

  “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare do that. You do think I’m stupid. What did I tell you? No games. That’s what I said. I gave you a script, a plan, and you didn’t follow it. I told you that I was the director and you were just a lowly actress. I gave you every line, every action.”

  Tess knew she’d been busted. But surely they didn’t know everything. They couldn’t have seen. . . .

  “So tell me, Tess, before I press the button to open this canister of sarin. What did you whisper to Porter and where is your son? I remember telling you every day is normal. Take your son, drop him off every day, no deviations. Life would be normal for you if you followed my rules. Do you want your son to grow up parentless like you did?”

  Tess said nothing. She didn’t want that for her son, but she didn’t see any other way. She’d hoped David would save her—save them—but it was too late. Maybe he hadn’t even seen what she’d left him yet. She stared sullenly at the floor.

  “Last chance, bitch,” Marci impatiently yelled into the microphone.

  “Tess, listen to her. We aren’t playing here. I’m about to end your damn life. You don’t get a do-over here. No second chance.”

  Tess sobbed but didn’t speak. She wasn’t going to tell them anything about David. And she damn sure wasn’t going to tell them where her son was.

  Caleb pressed the button, releasing sarin gas into the mask strapped to her face.

  Her body shook violently, as saliva and blood streamed from her nose and mouth.

  Marci hit the speaker button. “You can make this stop. Just tell us what we want to know.”

  Caleb felt a little sick to his stomach this time. It was the first time he actually had a second thought about what they were doing. He wasn’t going to share anything with Marci, for God’s sake, but this one bothered him.

  Tess’s eyes rolled back. Her teeth chattered.

  “So sad,” Marci said.

  Within two minutes the chair and Tess fell over and crashed onto the floor. Tess’s eyes bulged; her shaking intensified. Almost as quickly as it started, it was over.

  Marci slipped a mask over her face. “What are you doing?” Caleb asked.

  Marci didn’t respond. She opened the door to the adjoining room and quickly closed it behind her. She kneeled down beside Tess’s lifeless body and ran a finger through the dead woman’s hair. “So pretty. So stupid too.”

  Marci got to her feet, reaching into her pocket for the roll of tape and handwritten note she’d brought with her. She attached the piece of paper to Tess’s body, pulled out her cell phone, and snapped a quick photo.

  Caleb watched from behind the two-way mirror as Marci stood over Tess’s body, a strange look on her face.

  “Marci, what the hell are you doing? We need to get out of here,” he said.

  Marci blew Tess a kiss and headed back into the room with Caleb.

  “What was that all about?” Caleb said pointing to the piece of paper.

  “Come on, Caleb. We both knew how this was going to end. And the letter is for our police friends, of course.”

  “Yeah, but we usually talk about every detail. We bounce ideas off each other. The last thing we need to do here is get sloppy or arrogant. Both will lead to us getting caught—or worse.”

  Chapter 33

  I walked into my office and shut the door behind me. I’d planned on working with DeLuca for a few hours, but that urge had passed. All I wanted to do was talk to Miranda and my girls.

  They should be relocated by now. I knew Karen would love their new home-away-from-home, but I also knew Hilary on the other hand wouldn’t. Maybe it would grow on her and God-willing, she wouldn’t have enough time to get too comfortable there.

  I put my cell phone on the desk next to my computer and made sure my ringer was up as loud as it would go. I pulled up the surveillance video from the Rosharon post office and zoomed in on the car Caleb was driving, looking for any unusual characteristics that I could run through a database to identify it. Chances were strong that they’d stolen the car within a fifteen-to twenty-mile radius from wherever they called home. Maybe this was the mistake I could use to get me one step closer to tracking them down.

  I zeroed in on a sticker on the rear window. “My child is an A honor roll student at Turner Elementary,” I mumbled, reading it aloud. My heart raced.

  A quick search told me there were three Turner Elementary schools in the Houston area. Two of the schools were located in the Pasadena area adjacent to Beltway 8, the other close to Sunnyside and I-69. But with the stolen vehicle information, narrowing down the school and area I was looking for should be easy.

  My cell phone chimed. It was a text from Miranda.

  Made it. We are going to get settled a bit call u soon luv u

  Before I could reply, my cell phone buzzed again.

  “Porter,” I said.

  “David, what in the hell did you do?” DeLuca asked, skipping the pleasantries.

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it. What the hell? “I’m at the office working. What are you talking about?”

  Just as the words left my mouth, my phone beeped. I presumed it was Miranda and the girls, but it wasn’t. Wilcrest was calling. I decided to let him go to voicemail.

  “Turn on the TV in your office. Channel 13. I’m sure by now its online too and probably spreading like a forest fire.”

  I swiveled my chair around and turned the TV on. I was still confused. “You’re sure what’s online now?” I demanded.

  The phone went dead.

  What I saw next made my skin crawl. I sat in disbelief, both hands over my mouth.

  Chapter 34

  The headline was damning. Untrue, I knew, but damning. It didn’t look good. As a matter of fact, it couldn’t look any worse.

  Houston Detective David Porter sleeping with news anchor and ex-lover Tess Keystone?

  Accompanying the headline were nine pictures. Someone had set me up. The first question that came to mind was this: what had they done to Tess to make her help them? Was this why she’d talked about her son so much? Was she trying to tell me something? Was she in some kind of trouble?

  Then my mind flashed to Miranda. Oh God, no! What would she think when she saw the pictures? Had she already seen them? Smartphone, internet, screenshots, and text messages still worked, even if she was in Montana.

  I had the story pulled up on my phone. I clicked the pictures one by one. A picture of me with my hand on Tess’s. Another of us with her finger on my lips. Several of us
talking, enjoying what appeared to be a date. And last, our good-bye hug, Tess’s head on my shoulder.

  From the outside looking in, Tess and I were having an affair, no doubt. I told myself not to panic. Think, David. I decided I would tell Miranda myself when she called, before she saw or heard about it elsewhere. I mean, we were at my friend’s diner. Surely Miranda had to know I wouldn’t take Tess or anyone else there. She’d have to know I was being set up. I’d just explain that Tess had been attempting to catch up with me, and she finally had. None of that explained my touch on her arm, or her finger on my mouth, or the hug.

  The story on the website and the news report on TV angered me. Other than the pictures, which proved nothing, there was nothing factual to support an affair. But what finally sent me over the top was the last line of the article. It’s also what sent me into an anger-laced rage and fueled the drive I was about to make to the offices of the Houston Chronicle.

  “Now we know why the MCD can’t catch the cop killer terrorizing our town. The most brilliant detective mind of our generation seems to be on another case or chase.”

  The only thing I could see was red. I stormed out to the parking lot. As I approached my truck, I spied Mitchell leaning nonchalantly on the passenger-side door.

  I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Don’t have time now, Mitchell. Please move. I’m in a hurry here.”

  Mitchell didn’t look one bit phased by my impatience, and I wasn’t sure he could tell how angry I was.

  “Wilcrest called me. I know what’s going on. So, where you headed, cowboy?”

  Wilcrest knew me too well. “Got a few people I need to . . . umm . . . talk to.”

  “How about you take ten to calm down a bit before you do or say something that you’re gonna regret, cowboy.”

  Mitchell was right but I didn’t care, not right now. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket just before it rang. This time it was Miranda. I let it ring a few times, answering right before voicemail would’ve picked up the call. I hoped the extra ten seconds might give me a chance to calm down a bit. It didn’t work.

  “Hey there. You guys all settled in?” I asked, doing my best to sound cheerful.

  “As settled as we can be for the night. You okay? You sound funny.”

  I didn’t respond to the question. “The girls liking their new rooms?”

  “So far, though it’s only been an hour or so. I think they’ll enjoy those horses tomorrow. I hope it’ll help get their minds off being away from home.”

  I paced back and forth beside my truck. Mitchell hadn’t moved.

  “I bet it’s cold up there—and not Houston cold either. You guys better bundle up tight.” My voice quivered.

  “David, somethings bothering you. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

  A lump rose in my throat. Discussing this with Miranda would have been hard either way, but I would have preferred to do it in person. But I didn’t need this weighing on me any longer than necessary.

  I went through every detail with Miranda—my visit to the diner, Tess showing up, the ensuing pictures, and my strong belief that Tess was in trouble. I didn’t know if that last part was true, but I strongly believed Tess wouldn’t have set me up if she hadn’t been in serious danger.

  Miranda didn’t interrupt me. In fact, she didn’t say anything for quite some time. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Then she spoke. “I think I liked it better when I didn’t know what was wrong with you. Can we go back to that?” She managed a quick, nervous laugh.

  I didn’t know whether to laugh with her or not, so I did nothing.

  “So what are you going to do next?” she finally offered up.

  She didn’t sound angry. Of course, that didn’t mean she wasn’t.

  “I have to find her so we . . . she can clear my name. There’s going to be a lot of naysayers out now, bashing me and the force.”

  There was another long silence between us.

  “This would be so much easier to believe if you’d told me you ran into Tess or explained whatever happened.”

  “I honestly never thought about Tess again after I left the diner. I know that doesn’t help much.”

  “No, David, it doesn’t. You know how I feel about her.”

  I was about to apologize, but before I could get two words in she was gone.

  A second later I got a text.

  Good night, David. I love you

  I sent her a text and added my apology anyway.

  Chapter 35

  I turned my attention back to Mitchell.

  “So, how pissed is the Mrs.?”

  I glared at him. “Pissed enough.”

  “Figured. You got quite the mess here. Burning from both ends, cowboy.”

  “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

  “Don’t take your anger out on me. Just trying to help. Mighta just saved your job.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, Mitchell was right. If I’d charged down to the paper and confronted someone, it would have ended badly.

  “Thank you.”

  “Time to quit feeling sorry for yourself and figure out how to get your happy ass out of this mess, don’t you think?”

  We were heading toward Tess’s house. It was a forty-five minute drive. I spent much of the time filling Mitchell in on everything I’d learned to this point. And as I imagined would happen, he asked what his detail would be. He couldn’t take sitting on the sidelines another day.

  “Well, Mitchell, you’re with me now, right? We’re on official police business,” I said, managing a trace of a smile.

  A block from Tess’s, I noticed squad cars and a half dozen news vans.

  What the hell is this? I wondered.

  Wilcrest’s phone call interrupted my thoughts.

  “David, where are you?”

  “Mitchell and I are about a block away from Tess’s. I need to talk to her, figure out what the hell is going on.”

  “No! Get the hell out of there. Turn around and leave now.”

  There was something strange about the way he sounded.

  “Okay, okay. But what’s wrong?”

  “David, Tess is dead. She didn’t show up at her house, and her sister called the authorities after the day care called to report that Tess never showed to pick up her son. They found Tess’s body twenty minutes ago, along with a note.”

  My gut instinct was right. Tess’s had been in trouble. I could feel my blood boiling. “What did the note say?”

  “David, the note says you are the killer.”

  “What? You know who is behind this!”

  “It’s not about what I know, or what you know, or . . . hell, what anyone else knows right now. The facts are simple: pictures of you and her, in what appears to be a genuine moment, show up online. And then police find her dead body with a note that says you’re the killer.”

  “I’m the captain of the MCD! Why would I commit a murder and then leave a note to confess to the crime?”

  Wilcrest hesitated for a minute before responding. I’d begun to wonder if he’d hung up on me.

  “Well, maybe your detractors are going to suggest you left the note so you could use exactly what you just spouted as your defense.”

  “So what the. . . what are you saying? You think I freaking killed Tess?”

  “No. I’m saying the evidence, which is what us cops use to solve cases, points to you. Listen, I’m trying to help you here. It’s why I called you, remember? To stop you from heading to Tess’s house, which is where I knew you’d head first. Calling her would have shown up on your cell phone bill. You’re smarter than that. Chief Hill is going to put you on administrative leave until this over. You can bet on it.”

  “No, no, and no. I can’t be put on a goddamn desk right now. No.”

  “He won’t have a choice, David. Go back through the evidence again.”

  “Okay, well, I’m going to make this easy for him. If he wants to take me off this case and stick me on a desk, he�
�ll have his chance here in about an hour. I’m heading to the station now.”

  Caleb and Marci had beaten me again, just as I was making a major dent in finding and possibly apprehending them. A tear of anger formed in my eye and rolled down my right cheek. I didn’t bother to wipe it off.

  “You ever solved a case from behind a desk, son?” Mitchell asked.

  “No,” I said, my fists clenched.

  “Well, first time for everything, I suppose. Looks like you’re going to need me after all.”

  Mitchell was right again. He wasn’t on HPD’s payroll. I could use him as my eyes and ears on the street and hopefully not lose much, if any, steam.

  I drove back to the station in silence. Mitchell caught my drift and didn’t initiate any conversation. After I parked, I sat staring into no-man’s-land. Never in a million years would I have imagined I’d be where I was at that moment.

  After a few minutes, Mitchell nudged me. “Can’t sit here all night, young fellow. Come on. Stop pouting. They’ll put you on a desk for a few days; let all of this blow over. Finally they’ll come to their senses, and you’ll be back running the show again. By that time, I’ll have found them, though,” he said, laughing.

  I managed a smile too. I opened the truck door and the cold rushed in. I grabbed my jacket and threw it on. Ironically, a whiff of perfume—Tess’s perfume—hit my nose. Probably where she’d laid her head on me, which I still found a bit strange.

  We entered through the station’s back door to avoid the cameras, and, to my surprise, Chief Hill was waiting for me. And—also to my surprise—he wasn’t alone. FBI Special Agent Jermaine Baines was with him. We’d worked together about ten years back on a serial sadist named Edmundo Acevedo from Tijuana.

  “Good to see you, Detective Porter,” Baines said, extending his hand to me.

  Hesitantly, I returned the gesture.

  “I wish I was here to see you under different circumstances,” Baines added.

  “Porter, the FBI is here to help with the case. Actually, they’re here to take over the investigation. And . . . uh, there’s one other thing . . .”