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

by Terry Keys

  “Daddy!”

  I whipped around fast as I heard Karen scream my name. I ran toward her and scooped her up in my arms.

  “Hey, sugar! You miss Daddy?”

  “Yes, silly.”

  A few seconds later, a brown horse came trotting around the corner of the house, Hilary sitting tall and proud in the saddle. From my previous conversations with Miranda, I assumed the horse must be Charlie.

  Hilary reined in the horse, slid from its back, and came over to hug me too.

  “Hey, Dad,” she said, a little less than enthused.

  I hugged my oldest daughter extra tight and didn’t let go. I knew she’d be trying to pull away from me after five seconds or so. I always made my kids end our hugs. As I could attest by how quickly Hilary had grown up, they don’t stay little very long.

  Karen took me by the hand and showed me around the house. It wouldn’t have been too shabby a place to spend a week or two on a real vacation. The home was what I imagined a modern version of Abraham Lincoln’s house would be like. It had an old-timey feel, although everything in the home was modernized.

  After my guided tour, Miranda pulled me into the room she was staying in and pushed me onto the bed.

  “Hey! Easy!” I said, laughing.

  “Don’t you ‘easy’ me, mister.”

  Miranda said then she kissed me. It lasted about five seconds, and then my I-can’t-sit-still Karen burst in, leaping right onto the bed. I pushed them both off me. Karen laughed and squirmed all over as I tickled her.

  “Daddy, come look at the horses.”

  The three of us zipped up and went out to take a look at the horses. I’d owned a few horses growing up and was a little saddened that I hadn’t raised my daughters in the country where they could’ve experienced the same. Living in the country taught me many life lessons too, especially how to work hard.

  The horses were majestic creatures. Their coats were shiny, and their manes were well-maintained. They were also calm and friendly. Someone had paid a lot of attention to these animals.

  “So who takes care of these animals?” I asked Karen.

  “That’d be me.” An older man dressed in overalls, an ancient pair of boots, and a straw hat from at least 1950 stepped out of a stall he was cleaning.

  I stuck my hand out to introduce myself. As I expected, the old man had a firm handshake. I knew that was a product of the farm work. It reminded me of my father.

  “David Porter,” I said.

  “Clive Jones. City, huh?”

  I laughed. “City?”

  “Yup, I can spot em’ from a mile away.”

  I patted him on the shoulder. “I bet you can, Mr. Jones.”

  Miranda put her hands on her hips and shook her head at me. I didn’t have the heart to burst his bubble.

  We talked for almost twenty minutes. I liked him. Real good guy. It was hard to hear him talk about his wife who’d died of cancer two years before. I think if it weren’t for these animals, he’d be a pretty lonely man. It seemed the work is what kept the old-timer going.

  “Nice looking family you got there. You should probably try to work less and be around more. Goes by quick, ya know. And wipe that silly smirk off your face. Told ya I spot things out from a mile away.”

  Clive was right this time. I did spend a lot of time away, and I needed to be around more.

  I looked up and saw Karen running toward me. “Daddy, Daddy! Let’s play Monopoly.”

  “I don’t know,” I said as we walked through the door. “Does Mommy want to play with us?” I said, looking Miranda’s direction.

  “David, why don’t you go and get Hilary.”

  I knocked on the door to her room and then let myself in. Hilary looked up at me with sad eyes but didn’t say anything. I sat next to her on the bed.

  “Other than being a few hundred miles away from home and far from all your friends, what’s wrong, kiddo?”

  She fumbled with her hands, and I saw a single tear form and roll down her cheek. I reached over and wiped it away.

  “You sure you got time for my problems too?” She asked. A surge of guilt coursed through me. I’d been go-go-go so long that I’d really lost touch. I couldn’t even begin to fathom what might be wrong with Hilary.

  I was used to solving problems, but this time I decided I would just listen.

  “Yes, Hil, I do. I always do. I’m all ears.”

  Her eyes widened as she stared at me, apparently as shocked to hear those words as I was to say them.

  “Well, I kind of met someone. It’s the reason I was so against coming here. But after what happened to Rodney, I’m not even sure I. . .”

  “I understand. Being away from someone you really like is tough.” I resisted every urge I had to offer advice. Not this time, David Porter. Just listen.

  “Losing someone you love is tough too,” I said.

  “His name is Chris. He’s a great guy, Dad. You’d like him, I bet. He plays football too. I heard some people say he may be the best runner back guy the school’s ever had,” she said, laughing.

  I was laughing too. “Running back. It’s called a running back. If you’re going to date a football player, you should probably know what position he plays. And as far as him being better than I was, I guess it’s possible, but I’d have to see it to believe it!”

  “Well, maybe next year you can come catch a game or two?”

  “I’d like that.”

  I gave Hilary a hug and invited her to our family game of Monopoly. As we walked toward the living room, I checked my phone. I’d texted Wilcrest a few times. Still nothing.

  We played for nearly three hours. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun. I took the empty pizza boxes and tossed them in the trash. Christmas was less than a week away, and for the first time in a long time, it actually felt like it.

  The girls had gone to their rooms. I stopped in long enough to give them both another hug and a big kiss before joining Miranda in the bedroom. I found her standing beside the bed. Easing behind her, I put my hands around her waist and laid my head on her shoulder.

  “So how long are you here for?”

  “Chief didn’t give me a timeframe. I suppose until they catch them.”

  “What if they don’t? I mean, it could go on for weeks—months, even.”

  “I was getting close. I sent DeLuca and Mitchell on a stakeout before I left. I’m pretty sure I know where they’ve been camping out.”

  “So the FBI is going to bust in and end this?”

  “It’s not that easy. The FBI doesn’t know I know anything.”

  “What do you mean? Didn’t you share the information you had?”

  She glared at me over her shoulder.

  “No. It’s complicated. Don’t ask. Just trust me, okay?”

  Trust me. As the words left my mouth, I wished I’d chosen a different way to explain it.

  “If they don’t need my help, I’ll probably be here with you lovely ladies for a while,” I said, nuzzling her neck. “So while I’m here. . .”

  She pulled away from me and turned around, her hands on her hips and a playful grin on her face. “While you’re here, what?”

  I waggled my eyebrows at her and she laughed. That’s all it took.

  Chapter 43

  The next day was incredible. We rode horses, played a few games, and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. The night ended just as the one before had, which was icing on the cake for both of us.

  The third day, however, I got a phone call that was a game-changer.

  “Porter? Chief Hill. Can you get someplace where you can talk?”

  I muffled the phone against my chest, mouthed an explanation to Miranda, and stepped onto the porch. I had a bad feeling about this. “What can I do for you, Chief?”

  “We need you back in Houston. I’m sending a team to pick you up within the hour.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Some way, DeLuca and your friend Mitc
hell ended up tracking down Marci Wingup. We have her in custody now.”

  What the hell? They were supposed to be staking out the place and gathering intel. And why the hell hadn’t I heard from either of them?

  “Interesting. Well, she’s a good detective. Doesn’t surprise me,” I said, trying to deflect the accusatory tone in his voice.

  “Well, it surprised the hell out of me for a few reasons—one being the fact that all intel was supposed to be shared with me and the FBI, since they’re officially handling the case.”

  “Maybe a tip came in, and it was something they needed to act quickly on. I’m kind of out of the loop being in Montana and all. I’m sure they were going to fill you in the first chance they got.”

  “Cut the shit, Porter. My directions were clear.”

  “Check my phone records, email. I haven’t spoken with either of them in a few days. I’m just as shocked as you about Marci being in custody.”

  My last sentence wasn’t a complete lie, so I didn’t feel that bad about telling it. I was also still pretty pissed about being arrested too, so I really wasn’t in the mood to pretend to care.

  “Well, when you get back you can have a talk with your team and remind them what following orders entails.”

  “It doesn’t sound like the FBI is happy that one of the two cop killers we’re chasing is off the streets. Am I missing something here? Shouldn’t everyone be happy, regardless of who made the arrest? Or is somebody missing out on some publicity?”

  I got no response to my questions.

  “On another note, Wilcrest is officially off the grid,” the chief said.

  My heart sank. Talk about dropping a bomb! I felt like the conversation should’ve started with this news, but I wasn’t going to push it.

  “How long?”

  “We got a text from his phone a few hours ago. I’ll read it to you.”

  Why in the hell hadn’t this prick started with this? I felt myself getting madder by the second.

  I have your guy, you’ll see him soon maybe, if a cop goes within 100 yards of his home. . . boom

  I tried reasoning with myself. I wanted to give Hill a piece of my mind, but it wouldn’t help the situation; I knew that. Now they had more on their hands than they could handle, and they were calling me.

  “Well, I’m sure by now he knows you have Marci?”

  “Yes. There’s more.”

  He read the rest of the text to me.

  “Let her go I let him go only deal I’ll make.”

  “So freaking let her go!” I yelled.

  “FBI is running the show, Porter. They don’t negotiate. You know that.”

  “It’s not their goddamn guy!”

  “I can tell you this, Porter. Bringing in Marci sure as hell didn’t help with FBI-HPD relations.”

  Hill had me there.

  “Send the team. I’m ready to go now.”

  I hung up the phone and slammed my fist into the wall.

  I called the girls into the living room. I’d just gotten here, and now I had to break their hearts again. I hated that. I told them I was leaving and as much as I could about why. They all knew Captain Wilcrest, and I thought they should know at least a little about what was going on.

  We all hugged and tears were shed. And then we prayed—all of us. Deep down I knew that if Caleb didn’t get Marci back, Wilcrest was going to die. Caleb knew that if he didn’t follow through with his threats, no one would take him seriously.

  The extraction team showed up thirty minutes later. We’d already said our final goodbyes, and I promised them they’d be back for Christmas. I knew it was a stretch.

  The entire journey to Houston was spent thinking through the various ways I saw this all playing out. How many more weeks would it take for us to find Caleb? And in the meantime, how many more people would die? Maybe with Marci gone we could count on Caleb making a mistake.

  When I landed in Houston, four FBI agents were waiting to escort me to the station. I wasn’t used to being chaperoned, and I didn’t like the feeling.

  We arrived at HPD headquarters, and I was led to the main situation room. I walked in to find a dozen FBI agents, Chief Hill, and a handful of others from HPD.

  “Have a seat, Detective,” Hill said. “I recognize Captain Wilcrest is a dear friend of yours. He is family to us all, and we are all hurting over this.”

  “Why am I here?” I asked. “A few days ago, no one in Houston wanted or needed my help.” I cut right through the smoke screen.

  Everyone turned and stared at one another.

  “Am I talking to the goddamn walls? Why did you send me away and then snatch me back from my family, all within seventy-two hours?”

  Agent Baines cleared his throat. “We need your help.”

  I shook my head. “You guys just figured that out?”

  “Porter, one of our best men, one of HPD’s patriarchs, needs help. Now isn’t the time to beat on your chest,” Hill said.

  I turned toward him and gave him the biggest go-to-hell look I could muster.

  Baines, who was seated to my right, placed a hand on my shoulder. “Listen, we screwed up. We need your help. You know more about these guys than any of us.”

  I looked over at Hill. His stance softened and nodded with Baines.

  “Listen, the first thing I’m going to want is my team. Where are they?”

  Everyone turned and looked at each other again.

  “Fingers, DeLuca, and Mitchell are all holed up in my office.”

  I laughed. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  It explained why I hadn’t heard from any of them. I was sure this time they’d wised up and killed the PC and phone.

  “Phone was working when I was caged up,” I said sarcastically. Hill pursed his lips.

  “Have them taken to my office,” I said. “Make sure my phone is working—PC too.”

  Hill gestured for one of the officers to go get them.

  “We all need to know everything you know, Porter,” Baines said.

  “Yes. The trust needs to be rebuilt,” Hill added.

  “And you thought by sending me away and arresting. . . I’m sorry. . . detaining my team was going to help with this trust-building? Way I see it, this is a two-way street.”

  Another FBI agent spoke up. “I’ve read several of your books and followed many of your major cases. I think you are brilliant, sir.”

  I pointed at her. “That’s the FBI agent I deal with.”

  She was young—no more than twenty-five—and a redhead, a cute kid. I knew she had to be fairly new to the FBI.

  Baines leaned over and whispered in my ear, “David, she’s been with the FBI six months. I’m not sure—”

  “Someone was sure enough about her to send her to help. I’m sure she’s my FBI liaison. I think I’m done here. I’d like to meet with my team. Special Agent . . . ?” I pointed at the newbie.

  She adjusted her glasses. “Special Agent Gibbs.”

  I stood up. “Special Agent Gibbs is welcome to join me. She can fill me in on anything else that’s happened the last few days.”

  I stormed out of the room and Agent Gibbs followed.

  “Porter, give me a minute in private,” Chief Hill said as he hurried after us.

  I followed him to another office. Gibbs stood outside the door.

  “Listen. You’re hurting. I get it. On many levels, I’m sure. Maybe we acted too hastily in arresting you, and for that I apologize. But I can’t have you or any of your team going rogue here. There are way too many eyes on this thing now.”

  As long as this moment didn’t end with a hug and a kiss, I was willing to accept his apology, wipe the slate clean, and move on. Wilcrest needed us more than my ego needed stroking. The chief’s apology was more than I’d imagined I’d get anyway. I also knew how hard it must have been for him to offer it. “Gotta know when to fold ’em”—one of my quotes to live by.

  “Never been rogue, just misunderstood,” I said
with a huge grin on my face. “I’m going to find Caleb and Wilcrest and end this thing. And I’ll play nicely with everyone too.”

  Chief Hill extended his hand. I took it, and we stood hand in hand for a minute.

  I left Hill standing there and closed the door behind me. I motioned for Gibbs to follow. Together, we headed toward my office and my team.

  Chapter 44

  I keyed open the door and greeted everyone’s gasps and wide-eyed stares with, “Here’s Johnny!”

  Johnny Carson was still my favorite host of The Tonight Show, but I could tell from the look on Gibbs’s face that she had no clue who I was referring to.

  “Goddamn, Porter! Took you long enough. I was starting to worry,” DeLuca said.

  “This is Special Agent Gibbs. She’ll be tagging along. Make sure she knows everything we know. I don’t want to leave her in the dark on anything.”

  I made eye contact with DeLuca, whose face said, over my dead body.

  “Talked to the chief. We’ve cleared the air. Gave him my word on keeping everyone in the loop.”

  I started with the hard part, the part I was sure none of them knew since they’d been ratholed away.

  “So what’s the play?” Mitchell asked.

  “We get on the ground. Gibbs and I are going to Wilcrest’s neighborhood. Start interviewing neighbors.”

  Gibbs raised her hand. I pointed to her. “Officers went by and questioned neighbors yesterday, sir.”

  “And what did they turn up?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Okay, so you and I go again today.”

  I gave DeLuca, Mitchell, and Fingers directions on where I wanted each of them to start, and Gibbs and I headed out.

  I still needed to find out what the hell happened with Marci and how the stakeout turned into an arrest. But time watered down details that we couldn’t afford to miss this time.

  I’d also told Hill that no one but me would interrogate Marci. I planned on tackling that after my trip to Wilcrest’s neighborhood, which was over an hour away.

  Gibbs and I talked the entire drive to Angleton. She seemed much older than her age, and I was impressed by how much she knew. She reminded me a lot of Hilary. Talking with her eased my mind a little about Hilary’s potential law enforcement career choice. It still scared the hell out of me, but there were dozens of jobs she could get that were far less dangerous than mine. I realized how limited my thinking had been before.