The Steve Williams Series Boxed Set

by J. E. Taylor

  “Look, I need to get to Torrington,” Steve said from behind the cage.

  The officer glanced in the rearview mirror. “The only place you’re going to is jail.”

  Steve leaned back realizing he had no one to call. “My boss is dead. My parents were killed yesterday and the psycho is still out there,” he reasoned. “Besides, if I was the one who killed Jack Murphy, why the hell would I be speeding toward the crime scene?”

  The trooper cocked his head. Kid has a point.

  Steve tried not to act on the thought. He looked out the window knowing his opportunity slipped away the moment he pulled his car over. “You didn’t find the murder weapon in my car either and I don’t have a trace of blood on me.” He continued. “Jack Murphy was killed within the last hour.”

  How the hell does he know that?

  “Son of a bitch called me from Jack’s phone and chopped him up while I was on the line.” Steve hung his head as the magnitude of what had happened in the last two days hit him full force. “He’s killed everyone I care about.” The words came out embedded in a harsh rasp. “Everyone,” he repeated, too soft for even the officer to hear.

  When they arrived at the state police barracks in Litchfield, Steve was led to an observation cell and handcuffed to a table. He stared at the mirror, knowing there were at least two officers on the other side of the glass. Steve heard what they were thinking and while doubt was prevalent, they were sure he was the killer based on an anonymous tip they had received. “I want a lawyer,” he said to the reflection.

  Moments later, two plain-clothes officers entered the room.

  “I want a lawyer,” Steve repeated.

  The officers looked at each other and sat down. “Do you have a lawyer?” The man on the right asked. His badge said he was Detective Bryce Harrington.

  “No,” Steve replied.

  Detective Harrington nodded to his partner and watched as he left the room. He turned his attention back to Steve. “What’s your name?” He already had Steve’s wallet and the registration from the rental car.

  “Steve Williams.” Steve answered. “If you ran my fingerprints, you would already know that.” He leaned back as far as the handcuffs allowed. “You would also know that I am with the FBI.”

  “Where’s your badge and gun?” The cop pushed. FBI my ass.

  “Jack has them,” Steve snapped.

  “You had a rental vehicle.” The detective pointed out.

  “I was in Quantico Virginia yesterday morning and flew into Boston. I didn’t have my car at the airport so I rented one,” he answered.

  “What were you doing in Boston?” Detective Harrington pushed.

  “None of your fucking business!” Steve glared.

  “What were you doing heading to Torrington?” Detective Harrington asked. Oh yeah, this guy is capable of slitting someone’s throat.

  Steve saw the image of Jack in the detective’s mind and closed his eyes. “I was initially heading to Litchfield,” he admitted.

  “Why?” This bastard is probably responsible for the murder of that couple too.

  Steve gritted his teeth and opened his eyes. “You already know why, now let me out of these handcuffs,” he demanded.

  “Just one more question.” Detective Harrington put up his finger indicating just a minute. He sat back letting the silence fill the room before he asked why Steve had killed those people.

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” Steve answered the question before it was asked. “The people in Litchfield were my parents,” he growled. “And you just let the son of a bitch get away.” He yanked at the cuffs in anger and the desk slid a fraction in his direction. “You let him get away, again!” he bellowed as the fury burst through the surface.

  Detective Harrington slid his chair back. “You have the right to a phone call,” he said, changing tactics.

  “I have no one to call, they’re all dead!” Anger and desperation altered, each clamoring to take control and he fought against the belligerent rage. He didn’t want to lose it with the asshole across the table still in the room. His chest heaved and his breath hitched, and an anxiety attack beat out the fury. Steve lost the battle and put his forehead on the edge of the table as the tears blurred his vision and the room began to spin, muttering under his breath at his lack of self-control.

  Assistant Director Ron Cleary walked into the room. “Agent Williams?”

  Steve looked up, his vision still blurred and his cheeks still hot. “Yes, sir.” His voice carried the gruff scratchiness he expected from his burning throat.

  “Un-cuff him,” Cleary ordered.

  “But we got a tip,” Detective Harrington argued.

  “This is one of our most highly decorated agents. Release him now!”

  Detective Harrington glared at Steve before leaning over and unlocking each cuff.

  Steve rubbed his wrists and took a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

  “Jack called last night. He told me your parents had been killed and said you weren’t taking it very well.” Cleary took a seat. “He asked that you be reinstated without finishing the course at Quantico.”

  Steve hung his head. “Jack’s dead, sir.”

  “I know.” He glanced at the detective. “What are you doing about that?” he snapped at the officer.

  Detective Harrington scrambled to his feet. “We thought we had the perp in custody.” He pointed at Steve. “He fit the description right down to the make, model and license plate number of the car.”

  “Did you trace the call?”

  The detective nodded. “It came from the same hotel where we found agent Murphy,” he said.

  “Did you find the person who called in the information?”

  “No. None of the hotel staff or customers admitted to making the call.”

  Cleary looked at Steve. “Do you know who did this?”

  Steve stopped listening after Detective Harrington said the caller knew the make, model and license number of the car he was driving. How could he know that? Steve closed his eyes. The bastard must have been on the plane with him. He opened his eyes. That’s not right, I would have known.

  “Agent Williams, do you know who did this?” Cleary’s voice cut through Steve’s lament.

  Steve tilted his head, focusing on his boss. “I’m sorry, what’d you say?”

  For the third time, Cleary asked, “Do you know who did this?”

  “Yes. Kyle Winslow. I don’t know his current identity; he changed it last summer before the attack on my family.” He paused looking at the table. “How did he know what car I was driving?” His eyes met Cleary’s.

  “Maybe he had someone watching you?” Detective Harrington piped in.

  Steve pondered the answer. He’d have to give Chris a heads up. His gaze shot between Detective Harrington and Cleary and his eyes widened. “Jenny.”

  “We have twenty-four-hour surveillance on her hospital room. No one without authorization will get near her.” Cleary assured Steve. “Jack made it clear she was a potential target and after today, I’m inclined to agree.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two items, placing them on the table. “Jack was one of the best in the bureau.” You had better be as good as Jack said.

  Steve saw the muscles working in Cleary’s jaw line in conjunction with his thoughts. He waited.

  “Jack was also my friend,” Cleary said. “He said you were the best field agent he’s ever seen and that’s about the highest god damned endorsement there is.” He slid the badge and gun across the table. “I expect you to bring the bastard in.”

  Steve blinked and looked at the items, slowly reaching for them without meeting his superior’s gaze. “I’ll do my best,” he said, pulling the badge and gun toward him.

  “You will have any and all resources you need.” Cleary stood. “I’ll assign you a new partner when I get back to Virginia.”

  Steve raised his gaze. “Sir, no disrespect, but I’d prefer to work alone on this. The same ma
n killed my partner yesterday morning.”

  Cleary paused. “Will you bring him in?” Or will you just hunt him down and kill him?

  Steve kept eye contact. “I don’t know,” he answered. “But I don’t want someone else’s death on my conscience. I work alone,” he insisted. “Or I don’t work for the FBI at all.” He took his hand off the badge and gun, leaning back.

  Cleary reached down and snatched up the badge and gun. “Jack also said you were a cowboy. I don’t need a cowboy on my team.” He turned to leave.

  “I’m the best agent you’ve got,” Steve said, still sitting with his arms crossed.

  Cleary paused. Arrogant son of a bitch. He glanced back at Steve. “You were the best,” he clarified.

  “Fine, but I’m going after Winslow and without the badge, I’m not obligated to bring him in.”

  “If you interfere with the investigation in any way, I will make sure you end up in federal prison for the better part of your life.” I should lock him up right now.

  Steve tilted his head. “Want to bet?” He stood up and stalked past Cleary and Detective Harrington.

  Cleary stepped into the hallway. “Williams!”

  Steve ignored him; he walked out of the police station and stopped. “Fuck,” he muttered. His rental was probably still parked on the highway. He turned and entered the station walking to the desk. “I need my personal effects,” he said to the desk clerk.

  Cleary approached him. “You need a lift somewhere?”

  Steve glanced at him and nodded. “I need my rental car. It’s probably still on Route 8.” He followed Cleary to his car and slid into the passenger seat. “You don’t like me very much,” Steve said as Cleary started the car.

  “Not particularly. You’re young and arrogant,” he replied. “But Jack had a lot of confidence in you, even while you were on leave.” He glanced at Steve. “He said you had been through hell and back.”

  Steve nodded, keeping his focus out the window. “Jack’s always been there for me,” he said. “He didn’t deserve to die like that.”

  Cleary sighed. “No, he didn’t. Jack deserved better.”

  “You’ll need to get off at the next exit and swing around. My car’s on the other side over there.” Steve pointed to the green sports car parked on the side of the road.

  Cleary raised his eyebrows. “A little flashy, isn’t it?”

  “I wanted something fast.” He allowed a smile.

  “From what I hear, it is fast.” He glanced at Steve and pulled off the exit ramp swinging onto the northbound ramp.

  “Yeah, it is.” Steve dug in his pocket for the keys as Cleary pulled up behind the car. “I’m sorry for losing my cool.” Steve reached for the door handle.

  “Williams, aren’t you forgetting something?” He put the badge and the gun on the passenger seat.

  Steve looked at the items and back at Cleary, hesitating. “I’m serious about working alone.” He maintained eye contact.

  Cleary nodded. “I’m serious about bringing him in.”

  “I don’t know if I will be able to do that sir.”

  “You took an oath to uphold the law.”

  Steve nodded and picked up the badge and gun. “I know.” He slid the gun into his belt and pocketed the badge. “Jack didn’t want me on the case,” he added.

  “He told me, but considering my best agent is dead in a hotel room.” He shrugged. “And it’s personal now,” he added. I hope you kill the bastard.

  Steve nodded. “I just wanted you to know sir.”

  “I appreciate that.” Cleary replied.

  Steve glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Cleary pull back on the road. He focused on the highway in front of him and fifteen minutes later, he pulled into Jack’s hotel. The forensic team was still there, but Jack’s body had been removed. The stench of blood and urine filled the small hotel room.

  “Agent Murphy’s phone was ringing a few minutes ago.” The specialist said to Steve as he walked around the hotel room observing the blood patterns. He handed Steve a pair of latex gloves.

  Steve slipped them on and picked up the phone. “Did you dust this for prints?”

  “Yes. We got two separate sets.”

  Steve flipped the phone open and looked at the last number. It was a Connecticut exchange and he pressed redial, putting the phone to his ear.

  “Agent Murphy?” A male voice asked.

  “No, I’m sorry. Agent Murphy isn’t available. Who am I speaking to?”

  “This is Dan Connor,” the voice announced.

  “Eric’s father?” Steve asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Steve Williams. I was your son’s partner at Quantico.” He looked around the room.

  “Oh.” Silence. “Agent Murphy gave me this number to call when I had details of the arrangements for Eric.”

  Steve closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can take that information.” He opened the desk drawer to pull out a pad. He stared at the notepaper. “Hang on while I get some paper.” He covered the speaker and turned to the technician. “Over here.” Sitting on the pad of paper in the drawer were three pinkies and the words scrawled above stated:

  Three more for your collection Stevie-boy.

  Regards,

  Kyle

  “We were wondering where those went,” the technician said.

  Steve uncovered the phone. “Thanks for holding. You can give me that information now.” He grabbed the hotel menu and scribbled the date, time and place for Eric’s funeral. “You don’t happen to have the Ryan’s cell number would you?”

  “If you need to speak with them, my ex-wife is here.”

  “Is Chris Ryan available?” Steve asked.

  There was silence for a moment on the other end. “He’s here.”

  Steve heard the shuffle of the phone.

  “Hello?” Chris’s voice came over the receiver.

  “My boss is dead,” Steve said. The son of a bitch got him and he knew the make, model and license plate of my rental car, so watch your back.

  Chris quietly processed the information. “Will do. What else?”

  Is that offer still on the table?

  “Yes. Will you make it to Eric’s funeral?”

  “I’ll be there,” Steve said. Your wife’s ex doesn’t like you.

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Chris said almost laughing.

  “I’ll see you at the end of the week,” Steve said.

  “Keep safe.” Chris ended the call.

  Steve folded the cell phone and ripped the corner of the menu he had written the funeral information on, pocketing the piece of paper. He looked around the room and back at the technician. “It’s going to be a hell of a week.” Taking one last look at the blood soaked bed and walls; he turned and left the carnage behind. He had one more murder scene to investigate and funeral arrangements to make.

  His cell phone rang as he slid into the car and he flipped it open, turning on the ignition at the same time. The chuckling on the line made his blood run cold. “I’m coming after you,” Steve said with a voice low and deadly.

  Kyle laughed. “How does it feel to be alone?”

  “Fuck you,” Steve threw the car in gear resisting the urge to peel out of the parking lot. He blinked the red flares of anger away, concentrating on the road while his hand gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles were devoid of color.

  “Speaking of fucking, did you see the video I made of what your wife did for me?”

  “Yep,” Steve answered. “However, you conveniently forgot to include the beatings,” he shot back.

  “Oh, she was more than willing,” he teased. “She came for me more than once, or didn’t you see that? I had her every way possible and she called out my name. My name, not yours.”

  Fury contained Steve’s voice, blocking it in his chest while Kyle taunted him. He drove faster, his breath barreling in and out, building the molten lava flowing through his veins, bringing him c
loser to a catastrophic explosion.

  “I understand why Charlie wanted her, she was an incredible fuck, and man, oh man, that mouth of hers, she could suck the cum out of a monk!”

  Steve ground his teeth together. “I’m going to kill you.” Baritone words rumbled from his chest. The red flares resurfaced and he had to pull over to the side of the road before he rammed the car in front of him out of frustration.

  “Temper, temper,” Kyle scolded, clicking his tongue.

  “Where are you?” Steve asked, closing his eyes. He saw highway signs for New Haven.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kyle laughed.

  “New Haven?” Steve asked.

  Kyle stared at the sign before passing under it. How the fuck did he do that?

  Steve chuckled. “Where ever you run, I will find you.” He opened his eyes and flipped the phone closed, cutting off the call. He pressed redial putting the phone to his ear.

  “I’m sorry but your call cannot be connected. Please try again.”

  ‘Restricted’. Shit. Steve inhaled. A deep therapeutic breath did nothing to quell the inferno in his heart—lava flowed through his veins, pounding at his temples. Ba-bam, ba-bam, ba-bam of his heart echoed in his ears and he watched the traffic sail by. The anger stroked the flames, keeping it burning, dangerous and unpredictable while he temporarily gained control. He allowed a grim smile to surface, aimed at the reflection in the rearview mirror.

  “You think that freaked you out, you just wait.” Steve had no intention of allowing Chris Ryan to step in and carry out his vengeance. He wanted the pleasure of seeing Kyle squirm and wished he could resurrect the beast in Black Cove just for the occasion.

  Chapter 26

  The week went by in a blur. His parents’ funeral on Wednesday, Jack’s the day after and now he stood at the gravesite watching them lower Eric’s coffin into the ground. Emotionally shot didn’t begin to describe it. He had nothing left and numbness filled the crevices of his skin. He stood stoically in the back of the crowd with his tinted glasses hiding the patch covering his perfectly good eye.