by C. M. Sutter
“Sure, all the time, but not in this neighborhood. I believe Crawford usually checks this area. I normally patrol the west side of Hyde Park.”
“So why didn’t Lutz have Crawford escort Kate to the precinct?”
“I guess he worked a double yesterday and had the day off. Lutz cleared it with Truman in patrol.”
Henry nodded. “Do you know who was supposed to work this neighborhood today?”
Thompson shrugged. “Normally we just overlap areas if someone has the day off.”
“Okay, thanks. I need to find Sherry Harrison and have a chat with her.” Henry returned to the inn and headed to the parking lot, where Mike was scouring the ground for evidence and Danny was printing the cruiser. “Find anything suspicious, guys?”
Mike shook his head and frowned. “Not a thing, Henry, and the paved lot doesn’t help. There aren’t shoeprints or signs of a struggle like you’d see in dirt and gravel.”
Henry slipped on a pair of gloves and cupped the sides of his face as he peered through the driver’s-side window. “There’s nothing lying on the seats. It doesn’t look like she was in the car and then forced out.” He tried the door handle. “Still locked too.” Henry shielded his eyes as he turned toward the voice calling out to them. He walked toward the woman standing on the sidewalk. “Ma’am, are you Sherry Harrison, the proprietor of the inn?”
“I am. What’s going on, officer?”
“It’s Detective Johnson, ma’am. Did you see your guest, Kate Pierce, this morning?”
“Sorry, I didn’t but Lucy, my morning helper, sets out the Continental breakfast at seven o’clock and stays until ten, and Gloria comes in later in the day to do the housekeeping.”
“Is Lucy still here? Maybe she saw Ms. Pierce this morning.”
Sherry nodded and led the way through the back entrance. “She’s in the kitchen. This way is faster than taking the sidewalk to the front.”
“Do guests have access to the back door?”
“No, it’s for employees and deliveries only.” They walked through the rear hallway that opened to the kitchen. A twentysomething woman busied herself at the sink. “Lucy, this is Detective Johnson. He’d like to have a word with you.”
Lucy pulled the towel off her shoulder, dried her hands, and shook Henry’s. “Detective, what can I help you with?” She pointed at the small corner table. “We can sit here if you like.”
“Thanks.” Henry pulled out the chairs and took a seat after Lucy did.
“May I sit in on this?” Sherry asked. “I need to know what’s going on and increase the security here if it’s warranted.”
Henry pointed at an empty seat. “Go ahead.” He pulled the notepad and pen from the inside chest pocket of his jacket. He noticed Lucy wringing her hands. “There’s no need to be nervous. Just relax and answer only what you know to be true.”
“It’s just that I’ve never been interviewed by the police.” Lucy took in a deep breath.
Henry smiled. “And that’s usually a good thing. Shall we begin?”
She gave him a nod.
“Have you met Kate Pierce? She’s a guest at the inn.”
“Yes, we said hello two mornings ago when she came down for coffee and a muffin.”
“Did you see her today?”
“I did briefly. She came downstairs when I was refilling the coffeepot. I apologized that the coffee would take ten minutes before it was ready and she waved it off as she grabbed a sweet roll. She said she’d get coffee later and headed for the front door, and I went back to my duties.”
“That’s it? You didn’t actually see her get into her vehicle or drive away with anyone else?”
“Sorry, but I didn’t.”
“Do you recall what time that was?”
“It was a little past seven thirty. That’s normally when the first pot of coffee goes empty.”
Sherry spoke up. “I did tell Officer Thompson that we have a camera by the delivery bay. I doubt if the camera view reached where Kate was parked, but we can check it out if you like.”
“That could be helpful.”
Sherry pushed back her chair and stood. “Sure, right this way.”
Henry thanked Lucy for her help. Because Lucy saw Kate that morning, it eliminated any doubt that Kate was the one who’d responded to Lutz’s text.
Sherry led Henry to a room behind the solarium. “This area serves a few purposes, but it’s mainly our supply room. Our security system is compact, so it doesn’t take up a lot of space. It’s new, and the images are crisp. Being in a relatively safe neighborhood, I went for the less-expensive model that only covers about a fifty-foot area in total. Now I’m wondering if that was a mistake.”
“No worries. Fifty feet is plenty if something or someone suspicious passed by.”
Sherry took a seat on the only stool in the room and queued up that morning’s footage. “What time shall I start it?”
“How about seven o’clock?”
“Sure, not a problem.”
Henry leaned against the shelving unit at Sherry’s back. Only three feet away from the monitor, he still had a good view of the screen and the back lot and delivery area. At that time of year, the sun was clearing the horizon at seven o’clock in the morning. They would be able to see if anyone passed by the camera’s lens.
The oversized garbage truck took up most of the screen for thirty seconds or so and then moved forward. Several teenagers came into view. Henry pointed.
“What’s up with that?”
“Just kids cutting through the parking lot on their way to school. Not a big deal, and they don’t cause any trouble.”
“Sure.” Henry continued to stare at the screen. “Hey, back that up.” He stepped forward and peered over Sherry’s shoulder. “Play that last ten seconds again.”
Sherry pushed the footage back to where a vehicle’s headlights came into view. “Here?”
“Yeah, and can you advance it at half speed?”
“I think so.” Sherry tapped a few keys, and the footage began playing at a slower pace. “How’s that?”
“Perfect. Get ready to stop when I say so.” Henry watched as the car’s headlights passed, and the side of the vehicle faced the camera. “Stop now.” Henry rubbed his brow. “That’s a squad car.” He saw the side of the white vehicle with the blue stripe. Just as the car’s shop numbers were about to come into view, the garbage truck moved ahead again. “Damn it. You’ve got to be kidding me!” The truck moved on seconds later, but the car was gone. “What time did that vehicle come into view?”
Sherry backed it up. “At seven thirteen.”
Henry reached in his pocket. “Here’s my card. I’ll need a copy of that footage sent to my email address.”
Sherry looked at the card then pocketed it. “I’ll send it over right away.”
“If anything else comes to mind, or if Lucy remembers more, please don’t hesitate to call. Thanks for your time.” Henry left out the back door and met up with Mike and Danny. “What’s the word?”
Mike scratched his cheek. “There’s nothing here, Henry. Do you want us to check her room?”
“Nah, the morning helper saw Kate leave earlier and nothing appeared out of the ordinary. I’m going to update Lutz, talk to Thompson again for a minute, then head back to the station. I need to get somebody out here to pick up the cruiser too. Thanks, guys.” Henry made the call to Lutz at eight forty-five. “Hey, Boss, I’m about to head back.”
“Anything on Kate’s whereabouts?”
“No, and I was going to ask you the same. Was somebody scheduled to fill in for Crawford’s route today?”
“Not to my knowledge, but I can give Truman a call to make sure. Why?”
“The only footage the bed and breakfast has is at the rear of the building where the deliveries come in.”
“Yep, I’m aware.”
“A patrol officer drove through the lot at seven thirteen, and a neighbor saw possibly the same car entering the l
ot again between seven thirty-five and seven forty.”
“That’s unusual. Why wouldn’t he just make his rounds and continue on?”
“Maybe he was watching for Kate to come out.”
“Thompson wasn’t scheduled to arrive until seven forty-five, so why would an officer be there at seven thirteen when nobody told him to head to that neighborhood? And why would he stick around without a reason?”
“He had a reason—Kate. The man in the squad car had to be John. He’s stalking her and knows every move she makes. That’s how he’s always one step ahead of us. He’s listening on the police channel and must have heard Dispatch put you through to Thompson. John was prowling the area, anyway, and took that opportunity to catch Kate off guard. The person she thought you sent to protect her is the one who kidnapped her.”
“Son of a bitch. So you’re saying John actually is a police officer?” Cursing sounded through the phone lines. “Kate said as much three days ago, and she got berated and ridiculed, especially by Mills. Now she’s a victim just like Jesse.”
“Boss, Kate told us about that white car in her dreams. Chicago police cars are white.”
Lutz groaned into the phone. “Yeah, I get it now. Tell Thompson to go back to his usual patrol duties, and I want you to return to the station. I’m setting up a joint meeting with Finley and his detectives here at ten thirty, and everyone needs to be on board. This has gone on far too long. We need to find out who John is now.”
“Sir, let’s act on what Kate said. John is affiliated with the man Jim shot, one way or another. You need the Internal Affairs investigation report on that shooting. That drug dealer’s name is going to lead us to John.”
“I already have a call in to their department but haven’t heard anything back and it’s time they expedited that information to me.”
Chapter 48
“I’ll be back later.” John removed my blindfold but kept the zip ties secured to my wrists.
“Why are you doing this? Who has you so pissed off that you’re on a rampage now, two years after Mason was killed?”
John spun and gave me a hard punch to the gut. I gasped for air.
“You don’t know anything about me or Mason. You’re just a nosy small-town detective who’s inserted herself in a Chicago Police Department investigation. You think you have all the answers with your psychic bullshit.”
“Jesse’s my friend, and I intend to find him. What about all the other people you killed?” I felt my blood pressure rising with each word. “Why did they deserve to die? What did they do to you?”
“Shut up!”
“No! I’m not shutting up. I want to know why you took it upon yourself to play God. You’re standing here alive and healthy looking and you don’t seem destitute.”
“I rent this farm and pay cash to be left alone. I like my privacy.”
“So you can commit your crimes without being seen? You could have gotten by on your salary as a Chicago police officer, but you let your gambling habit take over your life, along with the thought of quick cash as a silent partner in Mason’s meth lab. Now you’re stuck and can’t get out, so you blame everyone else.”
“That’s just your theory. Who says any of that is true?”
“You and I both know it is. I’m a psychic, and my dreams speak the truth.”
“This is your final warning to shut up.”
I couldn’t stop myself. “You took an oath to serve and protect just like the rest of us in law enforcement did. What happened to that? Were you ever a good cop, or were you always a dirty piece of shit?”
John slapped me across the face and bloodied my lip. “This is nothing compared to what you’re about to get. You’re worse than Jesse.”
I wiped the dripping blood across my shoulder. “So he is alive.”
John stormed to the door then turned before leaving. “I guarantee you, Detective Pierce, you aren’t going to enjoy your visit here.”
“I will if Jesse’s here and we find a way to escape.”
John laughed. “Are you on drugs? I don’t recall giving you any, but it’s actually not a bad idea. Thanks for the suggestion.”
I yelled as he closed the door. “Don’t bother. I’m good.”
The door made a loud thud as he slammed and locked it behind him. I heard the clacking of his shoes until their sound faded away. I knew my room was at the end of a long tiled hallway.
Where the hell are you, Jesse? I can feel you close by. You have to be somewhere in this house, but where?
I squeezed my eyes open and closed several times in hopes of seeing things clearer, but there wasn’t much light in that space. A twin bed and a chair were the only pieces of furniture in that small room. There wasn’t a bathroom or any door except the one John left through. I gave the bed a close look. Straps attached to both sides had been tucked under the mattress.
Oh my God. This may be the room where Jesse was being held, but why move him, and where is he now?
A heavy blanket covered an area of the wall next to the bed. I assumed a window was hidden behind it, and I had to know what was on the other side. Keeping my balance would be tough without the use of my hands, but I did my best as I climbed up on the bed and tried to stay centered. I didn’t want it to teeter and flip since crashing sounds would certainly alert John. The blanket was secured to the wall with nails all the way around it and I had no idea if the window was low enough for me to even see out. I pressed my shoulder against the wall and felt the outline of where it ended and glass took over. It would be a stretch, but I was tall. I was sure I’d still be able to see something if I could only loosen that blanket.
I pushed my back against the wall and tried to reach the blanket’s edge. It was within inches of my grasp. I needed a little more height and knelt to the bed. With the pillow and blankets bunched under the spot where I had just stood, I climbed up again. This time, I was a bit higher. I felt the rough edge of the wool blanket and now I just had to get my entire hand around it and give it a tug.
After fifteen minutes of pulling every which way, I began to make progress. The blanket was stretching enough for me to get a firm grasp on it. I tugged and yanked until I heard tearing sounds. The blanket was ripping away from the nails.
Yes!
If I could only get the lower part loose, I could stick my head under it and peer out. John likely wouldn’t notice that as easily as if I were to rip the entire blanket down. I was sure there would be hell to pay for that. Nail by nail, I was able to tear away the blanket until there was enough room to squeeze my head between it and the wall. Even if John returned, I’d hear his footsteps approaching long before he reached the room. Cautiously, I maneuvered my head under the foot-wide opening. I didn’t know what lay on the other side but my heart sank when I saw that the window was nailed closed.
I returned my focus to what was outside. Beyond the dusty glass were open fields. The area was devoid of roads or even a driveway, so I assumed I was looking at the rear of the property. In the distance, the top of a water tower broke the horizon. If only it were close enough that I could read the name of the town painted on it, but it wasn’t. I pressed my cheek to the glass and looked left and then right, hoping to see a neighboring house. Another wall jutted out on my left. A bare slab of cement that might have once been a patio separated my window from that wing of the house. I assumed there was a patio door in the wall that opened to that cement slab, but I couldn’t see it. To my right were more empty fields. I sighed and lowered myself to the bed. In the end, all that effort to see out didn’t give me the epiphany I had hoped for.
I didn’t have a phone, my wrists—cut by the rigid plastic ties—were bound behind my back, and a madman had me locked away in a small room without a toilet. I was up the creek without a paddle. Why John hadn’t killed me yet baffled me. Why take me at all? But then if Jesse was alive, what had John done to him? I walked to the door, turned my back, and tried the knob—it was locked—but that was what I’d expected. I
looked back at the blanket. If I were to break the window, would I actually be able to climb out? The thought gave me an idea. Broken glass could cut through the zip ties, but maybe there was something on the bed or chair that could too—and wouldn’t create any noise. I began to investigate my options.
Chapter 49
The roll call room at the homicide division on Wentworth was buzzing with activity. Eleven detectives and two sergeants were in attendance. Patrol officers and beat cops were left to fulfill minor duties at both precincts until John was captured or taken down, and everyone hoped for a speedy resolution. Finley and Lutz sat together at a table near the podium and read over Jim’s IA investigation report, which had been sealed until that day.
“So the guy Jim accidentally shot was Mason Daily. There was an investigation on him, wasn’t there?” Lutz stared at Finley.
“I’m trying to find where it tells us that. Holy shit! According to this report, Terry Lewis turned in Mason to get a reduced sentence on his own drug charges a year before the shooting. Terry was incarcerated for seven months instead of eighteen. Guess who the attorneys were at that trial?”
“Pitts and Waters?”
“Yep, and that’s how they were connected to this—through Terry Lewis.”
“Jesus. We would have never figured that out on our own. What did Mason Daily get out of it?”
Finley continued reading down the page. “They never found where he was doing the cooking at that time, so he was only charged for possession with intent to sell. He was small potatoes back then.”
“Then how did the bust go down when he was shot by Jim?”
“I’m looking.” Finley rubbed his chin. “Humph. Okay, fast-forward a year and now Mason has moved up higher in the meth-making ranks. He had minions working for him in his lab and on the street. Apparently, his street boys ratted him out after an undercover controlled buy, again to save their own butts. That was when everything started to unravel for Mason Daily. Reading this is bringing back memories of that day, but IA took over everything once they began the investigation into Jim’s conduct.”
