Ellen Sheehan signed off. Jacopo did not like her. She was cocky and arrogant. She felt like she could dictate his story. She did not realize she was just a pawn in his master’s plan. Without him, she would still be covering dog shows.
He hoped one day his master would make her his next target. He would take great pleasure in slicing her up.
But he did not know who the next victim would be until he received his instructions.
He looked at his watch. It would be soon. Very soon.
FORTY-TWO
Jo stared at the clock on the wall. With each turn of the hand, her face became darker and darker.
She was in the office of Dr. Stanley Freeman, Chief Administrator of the Bridgeton Mental Care Institute. Freeman was tall, striking, and black. He wore a gray suit with a white tie.
He tapped his finger on the oak desk before him.
Jo was waiting for Crowder. She had already left him several messages. Seeing the impatient look on the chief administrator’s face, she said, “My partner is running late, I think it might be better if we got started.”
Freeman leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk. “I can honestly say I am shocked by what you’ve just told me. I had no idea the victims of those terrible train murders once worked for BMCI.”
“You didn’t know them?” Jo asked.
Freeman shook his head. “They must have been employed before my time.”
“How long have you worked here?”
“As of next month, it’ll be ten years.”
Jo frowned. The victims were employed before his time, she thought.
“Can you pull up all files on Silvio Tarconi and Natasha Wedham?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Can you also give us files on your current and former patients?”
Freeman paused. “The files on Mr. Tarconi and Ms. Wedham you can have. They are dead, after all. But I’m afraid I can’t release files on our patients. Those are confidential. You’ll need to get a court order.”
Jo leaned forward. “Dr. Freeman, we have two former employees of this institution who were brutally murdered. Someone out there is exacting revenge, and we now have a strong suspicion that it could be a former patient. We believe there may be more victims. Before another one of your employees meets the same fate, I would advise you to cooperate with us.”
“What you want me to do is hand over people’s psychological history,” he said. “A lot of people, some even prominent, have passed through the gates of this building. The only reason they have done so is because they know their secrets will be safe with us. I cannot break their trust.”
Jo said, “I understand the position you’re in, but we have a duty to protect the public. The sooner we capture this killer, the sooner the public will be safe.”
Freeman stood up and walked to the window. “There has to be some other way for you to conduct your investigation.”
“There isn’t. The only way we can identify a suspect is to know their motive. We do know the train victims were not chosen at random. They were targeted, and their bodies were marked with messages. From these messages, we strongly believe something must have happened at the institute that provoked their killer into taking deadly actions.”
Freeman let out a long sigh. “You will have to give us some time. We’ve had hundreds, if not thousands, of patients come to our institute. Digging up old files will not be easy.”
There was a knock at the door, and it opened. Crowder popped his head through the crack. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, out of breath.
Jo said, “Detective Jay Crowder is working on the case with me.”
Freeman nodded.
Crowder came over and sat down next to her. “What did I miss?” he whispered to her.
Jo ignored him and said, “Please continue, Dr. Freeman.”
“Like I was saying, the files are stored in our basement. It could take days for us to go through them.”
“We don’t have time. We need those files as soon as possible. In fact, Detective Crowder will be more than willing to assist you in your search.”
Crowder looked at her. “I will?”
“Yes, you will,” Jo replied. “Dr. Freeman and I waited almost half an hour for you before we started our meeting. It is only appropriate you make up for lost time.”
Jo could tell Crowder was not happy about doing grunt work, but she did not care. She was not his partner, nor did she have to cover for his poor punctuality.
She felt like they were running against the clock. They needed all hands on deck.
Her only wish was that they were able to find a name in those files before the killer struck again.
FORTY-THREE
Rhodes found Tess standing next to his Malibu. “How long have you been standing there?” he asked, curious.
She shrugged. “Not long.”
He waited for her to leave so that he could get in his car.
“Thanks,” she said.
“For what?” he asked.
“For whatever you did. My mom and her boyfriend were scared when they came back into the house. They haven’t said anything to me so far. In fact, they’ve kind of been okay with me. My mom even made me breakfast.”
Rhodes nodded.
“Where are you going?” Tess asked.
“Work.”
“Can I come with you?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll sit outside your front steps.”
Rhodes looked up at the sky. The clouds were gray, and it looked like it was going to rain.
He wanted to ask Tess why the skies were always gray. “Why don’t you just stay at home?” he said instead.
“Even though it’s okay right now, I’m still not comfortable being around my mom’s creepy boyfriend.”
Something occurred to Rhodes. “Don’t you have school?”
“It’s summer, duh?” she said, rolling her eyes.
Right. “What about your friends? Can’t you hang around with them?”
“One has a job and the other is visiting her grandparents in another state.”
Rhodes realized Tess had no place else to go. “Why don’t you go to the library?”
“It’s so boring,” she complained.
“I have a lot to do,” Rhodes said, unlocking the front door. “I have to go.”
“Fine. I’ll just sit outside in the rain. I’ll probably get wet and maybe get sick. But that’s okay. You go do your work.”
Rhodes blinked. Was she using reverse psychology on him? Or was she trying to make him feel guilty?
There were several reasons why he did not want any children. One reason was that you could not win an argument with them.
“Fine. Get in.”
Tess clapped her hands and squealed like a little girl.
On their way to Rhode’s destination, they grabbed something to eat. Rhodes was hungry, so it was only polite to offer some to Tess.
Rhodes parked the Malibu and looked across the road.
“Why are we stopping here?” Tess asked, sipping her drink through a straw.
Rhodes nodded towards a pizza shop. “We’re keeping an eye on that place.”
Tess made a face. “If you wanted pizza, why did you get burgers and fries?”
Rhodes was not good at making up stuff. Plus, she was old enough to know how the world actually worked, so he decided to tell her the truth. “You see that kid over there by the corner?”
“Yeah, the one who’s dealing drugs.”
Rhodes looked at her. “How did you…?”
“I may be a kid, but I’m not stupid. I see things all the time. You should drop by my school. I can show you the exact places you can get high.”
“Well, I need that kid over there to sell me some drugs.”
Tess gave him a look. “I didn’t think you were into that, but you do live alone, so yeah, it’s possible.”
“I’m not a user.”
“Sure. That’s what they all say.”
“I’m really not.”
Tess smiled and winked. “Okay, gotcha.”
Rhodes shook his head. If he wanted to keep his sanity, he had to learn to stop arguing with a teenager.
“Why do you want to buy drugs anyways?” Tess asked.
“I need it as leverage against the owner of the pizza shop.”
“So go buy it.”
“The kid won’t sell it to me.”
“Why not? You got money, right?”
“He thinks I’m a police officer.”
Tess gave him a once over. “If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were a police officer too. But when I spoke to Olya, she mentioned you were in prison before.”
“The landlady told you?” he asked.
“I talk to her sometimes when I’m outside waiting for my mom.”
“And you’re not worried about hanging around with a convict?” he asked.
“I did an internet search on you. I didn’t want another creep hanging around my house. You wouldn’t believe how much stuff is written about you.”
“So you know who I am?”
“Former Newport Police Detective Martin Rhodes.”
“So you know what I did?”
“Yep. And I would have done the same thing too. I’m glad that creep got punished for what he did to that little boy.”
Rhodes looked out the window and then faced her. “Tess, what I did was wrong. I paid ten years of my life for it. No one has the right to take another person’s life, not even me. Do you understand?” His tone was dead serious.
She stared at him and then nodded. “Yeah, I hear you.”
He turned back to the pizza shop.
“Anyways,” she said, as if what happened a few seconds ago was water under the bridge, “I know your background, so that’s why I didn’t mind hiding in your car, you know. I know I would be safer with you than at home with my mom’s boyfriend.”
“Be careful who you trust,” Rhodes said.
“Plus, I got something if you or anyone else got any funny ideas.”
She put her hand in her small bag and pulled out a can of pepper spray.
“Where’d you get that?” he asked.
“I ordered it online.”
“You know how to use it?”
“Yep. I’ve tested it a couple of times.”
“Good,” he said, turning back to the shop.
“So, what’s your plan?” she asked.
“I don’t have one—yet.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll go buy it,” she said.
“What?”
“Yeah, if he won’t sell it to you, then he’ll definitely sell it to me.”
Rhodes shook his head. “I’m not going to send a minor to buy drugs.”
“I’m not really going to buy it. I’m not stupid, you know.”
“It could be dangerous.”
“You’ll be watching me the entire time.”
Rhodes frowned.
“Let me help you. It’s the least I can do for what you did for me.”
Rhodes thought about it. “I still don’t think it’s…”
“Just trust me, okay? I’ve got a plan.”
Rhodes sighed. He really had no other options. Plus, by now he should know better than to argue with her.
FORTY-FOUR
The conference room at the FBI field office was filled with boxes containing files from the Bridgeton Mental Care Institute.
It was tedious and time-consuming work, but with Tarik, Irina, Jo, and Chris going through each patient’s file, the task had been cut in half.
Crowder had been excused. He had lugged all the boxes from the institute to the FBI building, after all.
He sat on a chair and just watched them. He was still sweating and out of breath. There was a moment when he thought he would have a heart attack. His face was beet red, and he felt a sharp pain in his chest. To his relief, it turned out to be acid reflux.
The team culled through the contents and created a profile of the killer.
Jo said, “White male, between the age of twenty-five and forty-five, was at the institute ten to fifteen years ago, around the time of Silvio Tarconi and Natasha Wedham’s employment, and he is in relatively good shape.”
“Why in good shape?” Crowder asked between breaths.
“He carried the first victim from the platform and into the train. Only way this was possible is if the killer was in good condition.”
“Unlike Mr. Universe over here,” Chris said, nodding toward Crowder.
“You try carrying fifteen boxes, why don’t you?” Crowder shot back.
Irina pulled out a file. “Ken Lieberman, age thirty-one, was at the institute thirteen years ago, when he was eighteen.”
Chris pounded a couple of laptop keys and said, “He lives in Bridgeton, but I don’t think he’s our guy.”
“Why not?” Jo asked.
“Lieberman’s driver’s license shows that he is close to three hundred pounds.”
“What’s the date on the license?”
“It was renewed last year.”
Jo shook her head.
Tarik pulled up a file. “James Salley. Age thirty-eight. He was at BMCI almost twelve years ago.”
“Why was he there?” Jo asked.
“Post-traumatic stress disorder.”
“From what?”
“Time served in Iraq.”
“I’m on it,” Chris said, typing away at his keyboard. “Salley also lives in Bridgeton. He works for the Port Authority, but his medical records show he is still on heavy duty anti-depressants. And he weighs one-eighty and is close to six feet tall.”
“He fits the description,” Jo said. “Anyone else?”
Irina said, “Mathias Lotta. He was at BMCI almost fifteen years ago, when he was only fourteen years old. He left when he was eighteen.”
“Where is he now?” Jo asked.
“Dead,” Chris said. “He was in a car accident a few years after he left the institute. The car was found in flames, and his body was inside.”
“Okay, next.”
Tarik said, “Joshua Havelen. He was at BMCI almost thirteen years ago, when he was only sixteen. He was released when he was twenty-one.”
“Where is he now?” Jo asked.
Chris frowned. “There is no record for him for almost ten years. No employment history, no driver’s license—nothing.”
Jo said, “Tarik and Irina, find out what you can on Joshua Havelen. In the meantime, Crowder and I will go speak to James Salley. With his military background, he might be who we are looking for.”
FORTY-FIVE
Tess got out of the Malibu and crossed the road. She approached a kid leaning on a brick wall next to the pizza shop. The kid wore a sweatshirt emblazoned with the name of a local basketball team, a baseball cap, and baggy jeans that hung low on his waist.
The kid had his eye on Tess the moment he spotted her. It was his job to evaluate who was a client and who was a cop.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Tess asked as she got near.
He nodded. “What’s up?”
“I heard I can get some pot here?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“At school.”
“Where do you go?”
She gave him a name.
He paused and then said, “My cousin goes there. He didn’t send you, did he?”
Tess did not know his cousin, or if he had a cousin who went to her school. He was obviously testing her. If she lied, he would see right through it and send her off.
She shrugged. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. But can you help me or not? I can go elsewhere, you know.”
He smiled. “Whoa girl, chill. I was just conversing. You got money?”
Rhodes had given her a few bills for the transaction. “Sure.”
“Show me.”
She held out her hand.
“Okay, put it away,” he said, looking around. “How much you wan
t?”
“Whatever I can get with what’s in my hand.”
The kid laughed. “What’re you, a junkie?”
Tess frowned. “I just need some right now, okay?”
He did not stop laughing. “Sure, girl, no problem. Stick your hand out like you are shaking my hand.” She did, and he quickly extracted the money from her palm. “I’ll be back with your goods.”
The kid walked to the front of the pizza shop and went inside.
A few minutes later, he returned. His right hand was closed into a fist, but Tess could tell he was holding something inside.
The kid looked around. “Now, I’m going to shake your hand and then you’re going to walk away. Got it?”
Tess nodded.
The moment the exchange was complete, a car pulled up.
A man got out.
“Oh my God!” Tess said. “It’s my dad.”
The kid froze.
“What do you have in your hand, missy?” Rhodes said.
“Nothing.” Tess tried to hide it.
“Show me,” Rhodes said in a stern voice.
Tess held out her hand. It contained a small bag filled with pot.
Rhodes glared at the kid. “Are you selling weed to my daughter?”
“I never gave her that,” the kid said.
“I saw you give it to her,” Rhodes replied.
The kid turned to walk away. Rhodes grabbed him by the collar.
“Let go of me,” the kid said.
“I want to talk to your boss,” Rhodes demanded.
“I didn’t do nothing.”
The kid tried to squirm away, but Rhodes held on tight.
“If I don’t talk to your boss, I’ll call the cops. You’ll go to jail for selling drugs to a minor. Do you want that?”
The look on Rhodes’s face told the boy he was not lying. “No, I don’t,” the kid said.
“Then let’s go,” Rhodes said. He turned to Tess. “Get inside the car. I’ll deal with you later.”
FORTY-SIX
The house was at the end of the street. It was a double-story with a single garage. The lawn was mowed, and there was a neat flower bed.
[Martin Rhodes 01.0] Close Your Eyes Page 12
