It took Rule a little longer than expected to catch John Hunter. When he went back to the house with the old woman, he learned that John Hunter had already left. The woman apologized for lying, but said that she didn’t want her grandson to go to jail. She allowed Rule to search the house, but said that she didn’t know where John went. She gave Rule the names of two of John’s friends who might know where he could possibly have gone.
Rule didn’t have his smartphone to Google the friends’ names or search the White pages for addresses, so he did it the old-fashioned way. He found a pay phone, which actually had a phone directory. It took him a few minutes, but he found three possible addresses for the two names he’d been given. He staked out each address for a few hours. This was the problem with working by himself; he couldn’t be in multiple locations at the same time. Whenever he felt like his eyes were growing heavy from being sleepy, he drove to the next house to wake himself up.
By now, the sky was growing lighter before the sunrise. A yellowish color started to mix with the early dawn. Rule looked at the clock in the dashboard and saw that it was 6:12 in the morning. He’d been sitting in his car for nearly three hours. No one had come in or out of the house. He thought that John Hunter must have escaped him again.
Ten more minutes went by, and finally something happened. A man who looked to be in his late thirties came out of the house wearing a white T-shirt and blue jeans. Rule placed a pair of binoculars over his eyes and saw that the man wasn’t John Hunter, but maybe he could be one of his friends. Then, seconds later, a white Ford Explorer with tinted windows passed Rule’s car that was parked a block away and pulled in front of the house.
Rule sat low in his seat so that he couldn’t be seen. The white Ford stopped in front of the house, and the guy in the white T-shirt walked around and got in on the front passenger side. Rule inquisitively looked on as the front door to the house opened again and John Hunter stepped outside. Rule’s eyes grew wide. John Hunter looked different from his mug shot. His beard was grown out and his head was shaved. The thing that gave him away was the tattoo of a teardrop under his right eye. The teardrop wasn’t shaded in, and Rule understood this to mean that John Hunter had lost someone close to him. Given his past criminal record, it could have been a gang member.
Once John was in the vehicle, it pulled from the house. Rule waited a few seconds and then followed. Given that Alpine was a small town and traffic was probably light at this time of the morning, Rule didn’t want to follow too closely. Twenty minutes later, they were on the interstate heading north. Forty minutes later, they pulled off and stopped at a motel that was reminiscent of the Bates Motel from the Psycho movie. John Hunter and the man he was with got out and went to the front desk. The white Ford drove off, and five minutes later the two men were walking to their motel room. Rule couldn’t tell, but it didn’t look like they were carrying any weapons, based on the type of clothes they were wearing.
So Rule waited again. No one came in or out of the motel room for the next few hours. The white Ford didn’t return. There were only two men in the motel room. Rule didn’t carry a gun and he wasn’t a cop, so the odds that these guys would just easily let him take John away would be slim.
Rule looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly 11:30 a.m. Time to get his guy, he thought. He carried the necessary paperwork giving him the authority to take his fugitive into custody. So Rule walked up to the motel’s door. He leaned close and heard faint talking, like the TV was on. It sounded like a Scooby-Doo episode. Rule knocked lightly on the door.
“Yeah,” a male voice came from the other side.
“Yeah, I’m from the front desk.”
With his ear still pressed against the door, he heard light shuffling, and then the doorknob started to turn. Rule threw his weight into the door and knocked back whoever was opening it. John Hunter hopped up from the bed, not wearing any clothes. The guy Rule knocked over was lying on the ground naked as well.
“Well, well, didn’t expect this,” Rule said.
John Hunter rushed for his pants, grabbed them, and flew into the bathroom.
The guy on the floor reached for Rule’s legs, but Rule stepped back and kicked the guy in the face. He was out cold seconds later.
“John,” Rule yelled, “it’s over. I’m taking you back to D.C.”
John didn’t respond. Rule reached for the doorknob and found it locked. He thrust his weight into the door and it flew open. In the bathroom, Rule found an open window above the toilet.
“You gotta be kidding me.”
Rule sprinted back through the room and around the corner of the motel. He saw John Hunter about fifty yards ahead running like his life was in jeopardy. Rule was in great shape and caught up to John Hunter with no problem, tackling him to the ground. John tried to kick and punch, but Rule was able to get him into a position where his feet were useless. Seconds later, John’s hands were bound behind his back and Rule finally had his fugitive.
At the airport, Rule found a payphone and checked his messages. He had seventeen from last night. He was surprised by the number of messages. He checked the most recent, which was from Jacob asking him to call as soon as possible. There was something in Jacob’s voice that Rule hadn’t heard before. Was Jacob in trouble? Did something happen? He didn’t take the time to listen to the rest of the messages. He hung up the phone and dialed Jacob’s number. Four rings later, Jacob’s voicemail came on.
“Jacob, it’s Rule. I’m in Utah about to head back home. My phone got smashed last night. Don’t ask how. You know me, so you can take a guess at how it happened. Anyways, I’ll hit you up when I land in D.C. Talk to you later, buddy.”
Rule hung up and then heard his gate being called for boarding.
Twenty-one
My phone rang. I looked at the number and didn’t recognize it, so I didn’t answer. I let the caller go to voicemail. I hadn’t eaten all day, and I decided to call Jadyn Davis, a friend and FBI agent. Jadyn and I worked together a couple of weeks ago to catch Jack Smith, the bank robber and murderer who kidnapped the First Lady and tried to kill her. During that time, I felt an emotional connection between us, but because of my wife’s death earlier in the year, I couldn’t allow myself to pursue any such feelings. Nevertheless, here I was about to meet her again.
We were supposed to meet up earlier in the day for lunch, but then I got the news about the Rules and told her that we’d have to plan for another time. She understood and offered any help that I needed. However, sitting at my desk—frustrated that I couldn’t come up with any answers—was starting to get to me, so I called Jadyn to see if she was hungry.
It wasn’t quite dinnertime, but it was too late for lunch, so we decided to meet at Chef Geoff’s. I arrived a few minutes earlier than she did and got a good table before the dinner rush. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel seeing Jadyn again. We’d talked on the phone a couple of times since the Jack Smith incident, but we hadn’t been face-to-face since then. My palms were a little moist, and I felt jittery with anticipation. My heart was fluttering, and I felt like a teenager about to go out on his first date.
My phone double buzzed, and I checked to see that Jadyn sent a text saying that she’d be here in a minute. The waiter came and filled our glasses with water. I looked at my phone again, remembering the missed call that I received. The screen showed I had one missed call and one voicemail. I pressed the phone button, and the missed number came up. I didn’t recognize the 801 area code, and I wasn’t even sure what state that code was for. I was about to listen to the message when I saw Jadyn enter the restaurant, and I have to admit that I was nearly at a loss for words. Breathtaking was an understatement. I raised my hand to get her attention, and when she saw me her smile widened, and I felt my soul smile as well.
She had long, dark hair and a kind of red tone to her light brown skin. She was probably close to five foot nine with a feminine athletic build. We hugged and then sat down at the table. The waiter came back, and
we ordered appetizers and drinks. I must admit that I felt a little giddy around her, but tried not to show it.
We looked at each other for a second, and then her smile suddenly went away. Her eyes moved away from mine to my left cheek. It was still a little swollen from the sucker punch.
“Let me guess, you didn’t learn to duck,” she said, referencing to an incident that happened a few months ago when I got into a fight.
I rubbed my left cheek, “This was a little different.”
“Uh huh.”
“Really. The guy sucker punched me. Came out of nowhere.”
“Do I need to sign you up for some karate classes? I know a good school not far from here.”
We both laughed.
“Karate isn’t what I need. But a pair of eyes on the back of my head would be good.”
Our drinks and appetizers came, and we ate and drank as if we hadn’t eaten in two days. We tried to steer our conversations from work, but as we were both in law enforcement, it was nearly impossible to do. Before I knew it, an hour had passed. The early night had fallen upon us. I was stuffed from the steak and sweet potatoes. The waiter asked if we wanted dessert, but we both declined. Instead, we ordered coffee.
Jadyn asked me questions about the Rules’ murder. She was genuinely interested in helping. I told her all I knew. I told her about my childhood and how the Rules were like a second family to me. I told her how they were executed and how it was apparent that Dennis was the main focus.
“And have you looked into his background?” she asked.
“I’m still doing that. I talked to his colleagues, and nothing they said stands out, except for the fact that Dennis apparently told Rule something important.”
“And you don’t know what that could be?”
“You know how it is, just because you grow up around people doesn’t mean you really know them behind closed doors.” I took a sip of my coffee. “Could Dennis have been into something shady? Possibly. But just from an outside observer knowing them the way that I do, it seems highly unlikely.”
“Maybe there’s an answer in the way that he was killed? You said he was hung from a beam and his stomach cut open.”
I nodded.
“That’s not a normal way to kill someone. Even if you want to torture them.”
“So you think this could be ritualistic?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “It could be a number of things: gang, Mob, religious. I think you should look into the way he was killed and see if you can find a connection there. That might tell you what kind of people you’re dealing with.”
“I already know what kind of people I’m dealing with. Sick people.”
“And you truly don’t believe the son was involved in this?”
“No way. Rule would give his life for his family. That’s the kind of guy he is.”
She nodded and sipped her coffee.
“Hopefully something will come up from the dead guy in the black Lincoln.”
A few minutes later, we finished our coffee. Jadyn excused herself to the restroom. I paid the bill. As I sat waiting for her, I remembered the message on my phone. I quickly had it pressed to my ear. Jadyn came back as I listened. My face must have been ghostly white because she immediately asked what was wrong.
“It’s Rule. He’s on his way back to D.C. from Utah.”
“Do you think he knows?”
“Didn’t sound like it.”
I looked at what time the message came in and then what time it was now. It’d been a little over two hours since he left the message.
“I need to meet him when he lands. It’d be better if he hears it from me.”
Twenty-two
Rule wasn’t afraid of flying. It was the crashing that he feared. People can give all of the statistics in the world that you’re more likely to get in a car accident than a plane crash. But the biggest problem with those statistics is that there’s a higher likelihood that you could walk away from a car accident, not so much a plane crash.
When the pilot notified the cabin that they’d be landing in fifteen minutes, Rule was both relieved and nervous at the same time. His six-foot-four stature made it uncomfortable to sit in coach seating, but he refused to spend the extra money to sit in first class. Yes, he’d probably be more comfortable, but he didn’t think it was fair to the people who couldn’t afford first class that they didn’t have the extra comfort as well. So he sat with everyone else.
As the plane descended, he felt it slightly rock from side to side. He gripped the sides of his seat and closed his eyes as the plane touched down. He breathed and opened his eyes. The short redhead sitting next to him patted his right hand.
“You can relax now. We’re down.”
“Was it that evident?”
“I was afraid that if you held your breath any longer someone would be giving you mouth-to-mouth.”
They both laughed. John Hunter was with the Marshals Service and was going to be extradited back to D.C. the next day, so Rule didn’t have to worry about anyone else but himself on the flight.
The cabin started to unload. Rule grabbed his bag from overtop of his seat and filed out with everyone else. Once inside the airport, he strolled past people walking in one direction or another. He walked past the baggage claim and headed to one of the main entrances where he could pick up a cab. He was surprised when he saw Jacob standing off to the right of the main doors, where he appeared to be waiting anxiously. Any other time, Rule would have been happy to see his friend, but when he and Jacob met eyes and Jacob didn’t smile, he knew something was terribly wrong. Rule’s mind then went back to the message that Jacob left on his phone. Rule thought, because of the stress that he’d heard in his voice, that maybe Jacob was in trouble.
Jacob momentarily looked away and then started walking slowly toward him. Rule tried to study Jacob’s face, tried to see if there was any hint of happiness on it, but there wasn’t. If Rule had to guess, he thought maybe Jacob had been crying at some point.
Finally, Jacob was in talking distance. He stopped two feet in front of Rule. He didn’t say anything at first. He lowered his head and looked to the floor before raising his head again. To Rule, it felt like his heart suddenly sank into a deep part of his body where he couldn’t reach it.
“What is it, Jacob?”
Jacob’s lips quivered before uttering two simple words that when put together carried a complexity of their own. “I’m sorry.”
Twenty-three
I wasn’t sure how I’d react upon seeing Rule. I rehearsed what I would say to him a dozen times in my head during the ride to the airport. I talked to myself as if he were in the car with me. I’m sure if someone looked my way at a stoplight they would think I’d lost my mind.
There are three major airports in the D.C. area: Reagan National Airport located in Arlington, VA, Washington Dulles International Airport located in Dulles, Virginia, and the Baltimore/Washington International Airport in Glen Burnie, Maryland. It didn’t take long to learn that, out of the three, Reagan National was the only one with an incoming flight from Utah.
As I waited, I literally put my hands together and twiddled my thumbs. I think I even whistled at one point, trying to calm the nerves that were taking over my body. I glanced at each passing face, especially when a nearly bald-headed black man came into view. I thought about when we were kids and how much hair Rule had on his head, and how now he could barely grow hair for a man of only thirty-six years old. I tried to get my mind to think of a lot of different things while anxiously waiting, but the only thing I could think about was how Rule was going to react when I told him that his whole family was dead.
How would anyone handle that kind of news?
When my wife was murdered, it was the worst news I’d ever heard. I was being physically detained by my captors, and the man who killed her mockingly laughed in my face. The only thing I could think about was wrapping my hands around his neck and strangling the life out of him. If my han
ds had been free, I would have.
My eyes continued searching the airport, and five minutes later I saw him. My heart started to flutter. My palms became sweaty. I could only get short intermittent breaths. He didn’t see me at first, but when he did he stopped walking. I looked away. I wasn’t sure if I was going to start crying right then or not. His family was like my family. I’d known them nearly my entire life.
Finally, I gained the courage to look at him. He didn’t smile. He didn’t open his arms expecting a man hug. Maybe I was giving off some kind of mournful energy. I slowly walked toward him. By now, my eyes were watering. How do you tell a friend his whole family is dead?
I stopped nearly two feet away. I looked toward the ground because I wasn’t sure if I could look him in the face. Any other time, we would be smiling and giving each other man hugs and making some kind of joke about one another. But not today. And Rule knew it.
“What is it, Jacob?”
My lips quivered. I don’t usually have to look up to too many people, but Rule stands about an inch taller than me and outweighs me by about twenty pounds of muscle.
Finally, my lips parted, and the only thing I could say was, “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t say anything at first. He just stared at me as if he were a statue. Then, seconds later, a tear rolled down his right cheek.
“My father?”
I nodded.
More tears started streaming down.
“How?”
The way he asked was almost like he knew his father hadn’t died of natural causes.
“There’s more,” I said.
Rule closed his eyes and mashed them together as if he were forcing them to stay closed.
“No,” he said.
“I’m so sorry,” I said again.
He fell to one knee, like he’d been struck in the face, and dropped his bag. People were starting to look at us.
The Game of Life or Death: A Detective Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers (The Jacob Hayden Series Book 3) Page 5
