The Steve Williams Series Boxed Set

by J. E. Taylor

  Tom shook his head, but his mind drifted back a couple months when Tanya had gotten a splinter in her foot in their canoe. He used the blade to catch the end of the sliver and when that sucker came out, her foot bled enough for him to wrap it up in his t-shirt and take her home.

  “Tanya’s blood is on the knife?”

  I don’t know, he signed and shrugged. He wasn’t sure if he washed the knife since then or not. But her parents took her to get a tetanus shot.

  Steve’s expression remained guarded. “That means there are traces of blood in the canoe too, right?”

  Tom nodded

  * * * *

  Steve stared at the array of papers on the table digesting this new fact. None of it boded well for Tom except the tetanus shot. If he could get the details on that, he’d have a reasonable explanation for the blood on the knife and in the canoe. The absence of the scalp was another item that could provide reasonable doubt; however, if the signature of the knife matched the murder weapon, then he was back at square one.

  He raised his gaze and took in Tom’s pleading eyes.

  “I know you didn’t do it, but this doesn’t look good on paper.” He waved at the table. “There’s nothing concrete we can offer up to exonerate you. Are you sure you didn’t catch dinner at Tanya’s on any of these days?” Steve asked, knowing he was reaching for any alibi at this point, but he had to be sure.

  Tom glanced at the dates again, a crease between his eyes hammering home his level of concentration to remember details that just blended together in a teenagers mind. And then the crease smoothed, and he tapped a date two months back. “Maybe,” he said, meeting Steve’s gaze.

  “What did you have for dinner?”

  Tom’s eyebrows arched and he shrugged.

  “Come on. You need to do better than that. What did you eat that night?” Steve waited while Tom clicked off the meals he had at Tanya’s for the past two months and then shook his head.

  It was either lasagna or spaghetti or chicken parmesan, he signed. Wednesdays are Italian night and I always tried to get an invite if I could manage it. He offered a shrug. It beat trying to choke down Jennifer’s cooking.

  Steve suppressed a grin. His wife had issues in the kitchen and most of his evenings had been taken up with the case, so he wasn’t around to save the kids from her cooking. “Why didn’t you say that to begin with?”

  Because sometimes it didn’t work out.

  “Are you sure you had dinner with her family on this particular night?” Steve asked, praying the answer was a solid yes, instead, doubt painted Tom’s face.

  I’m sorry, Uncle Steve, he signed and his thoughts echoed the same sentiment.

  “That’s okay. I’ll talk with Tanya’s parents and see if I can get them to confirm you were there on that date.”

  Tom’s gaze dropped to the table and he nodded.

  The gate buzzer interrupted them and Steve stood, crossing to the monitor. Cleary gave him a wave and Steve opened the gate for his boss. He turned back to Tom and said, “Why don’t you head upstairs.”

  Tom nodded and with one last glance at the table, he turned and disappeared up the stairs.

  Steve got to the front door before Cleary and he waved him inside without the normal salutations. Cleary’s tight jaw and fiery expression kept him quiet and he suppressed the urge to dig in Cleary’s mind to find out the reason for the open hostility radiating from the man.

  “Are the kids around?”

  “They’re upstairs, why?”

  Cleary spun toward Steve. “Chris Ryan was involved in the kidnapping ring?”

  Steve didn’t answer. He just turned and closed the door, keeping his back to Cleary while he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wood. “They watched the DVDs.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Cleary muttered and peeled his jacket off. “You knew?”

  Steve turned and met his boss’ glare. “I knew Chris wasn’t as clean as Ty made him out to be, but I had no idea those tapes existed. If I did…”

  Cleary’s lips thinned and the flurry of his thoughts matched the anger radiating from him. “Internal affairs got wind of the information and they are taking a closer look at your situation.”

  “My situation?”

  “The inheritance, the guardianship, control of their trust fund,” Cleary said.

  Steve’s muscles clenched and he had to force himself not to ball his hands into tight fists. “Why?”

  Cleary took a deep breath. “They’re looking at the current case. The tips you’ve given the police and the involvement of one of the Ryan kids. They are looking over your entire career right now and we both know there’s enough unexplained events to draw even more scrutiny.”

  Steve didn’t like where this was going, the unease that had taken over his bones increased and he shifted his weight against the pressure. “They think I’m dirty?”

  “They think you knew more about Chris Ryan than you’ve let on,” he said, making quotes with his fingers as he said the name. “I haven’t been contacted for a formal interview, but I’m sure I’m next.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because, until the investigation is completed, you are officially suspended. I’m here to collect your badge and gun.”

  Steve blinked as the accusations and possible consequences flitted through Cleary’s mind. The shock of the suspension settled into his bones, creating a burning just under his skin. Instead of arguing or losing his temper, he turned and marched over to the table, grabbing his weapon and badge. When he turned, Cleary was a step behind him.

  “I’m not sure I can protect your reputation this time,” he said and took the items from Steve.

  “I only knew the truth for a matter of weeks before Ty died.”

  “That doesn’t matter. You didn’t bring him in. Instead, you aided and abetted a known fugitive and they are going to leverage that against you.”

  “Well, at least I’ve got one thing going for me,” Steve said and crossed his arms.

  “What’s that?”

  “New York. The district attorney there wouldn’t dream of prosecuting me.”

  “You’re probably right, but the Federal prosecutor doesn’t have that kind of allegiance.”

  Steve’s arms dropped to his side.

  “Murder has no statute of limitations,” Cleary said. “And the Aris case crossed state lines, so it’s under Federal jurisdiction. If they choose to go after you…”

  “I’m looking at a stay in Federal prison,” Steve finished Cleary’s sentence. He took a seat at the table and the mere thought of them questioning his integrity and his motives after more than fifteen years of dedicated service irked him.

  “Are you telling me Steve could go to prison?” Jennifer interrupted.

  Steve turned toward the stairs where Jennifer stood gawking at the two of them, her green eyes wide and shocked at the turn of the conversation. “It’s possible,” Steve answered with a shrug and swung his gaze back to Cleary. “Have they talked to Sarah, yet?”

  “Yes. She wasn’t very happy with the line of questioning and said your heroics didn’t seem to faze them one bit. They are on a witch hunt and you are the target.”

  Steve sighed and nodded, scanning the contents of the table. “Who is assigned to this now?” He pointed at the Windwalker case file.

  “I’ll be working it with Sarah.” Cleary glanced at Jennifer. “So when you have another one of your visions, you need to contact one of us.”

  “We will,” Steve said. “What about the case against Tom? Can you talk some sense into the prosecutor?”

  “Do you have anything I can go to them with?”

  Steve looked at the one date Tom had circled and wrote it down on a slip of paper, handing it to Cleary. “Tom believes he was at dinner at Tanya’s house on that evening. It’s the only alibi I have for him.”

  “The dead girl’s parents?”

  “Yes.”

  Cleary whistled and sh
ook his head. “That’s pretty thin.”

  “He was either sleeping in his room or with Tanya at the times the Windwalker struck.”

  “Can anyone confirm they saw him here on those mornings you think he was sleeping?”

  “We sometimes drive to school together,” CJ said as he stepped into the living room.

  Cleary pointed to the calendar on the table. “Can you tell me if you drove on any of these dates?”

  “Any of the murders on a Friday?”

  Steve shook his head. “No, Jen and I already looked and none of the murders happened on days you two had sports events.”

  “Shit,” CJ said and crossed to the calendar, flipping from page to page with disgust. He finally stopped and glared at Cleary. “My brother didn’t kill those people.”

  “Ron, Tom doesn’t fit the profile,” Steve said, pulling the write up the FBI put together on the killer, handing it to Cleary.

  “Have you ever caught him hurting small animals?”

  CJ laughed. “Tom hand feeds the chipmunks. Animals flock to him like he’s something special. No, he’s never hurt an animal on purpose and the one time he hit one with the mower, he was so upset, he couldn’t bring himself to mow the lawn for the rest of the summer. He bribed me with everything from doing all my chores for the rest of the year to letting me use his things whenever I wanted, just to get out of doing the lawn.”

  “What about the fish knife?”

  “What about it?” CJ shrugged. “We fish off the bluff or out on the canoe all the time.” He stared at Cleary and then swung his gaze to Steve. “They honestly believe Tom did this?”

  Steve nodded, seeing the transition in CJ’s facial features as they hardened, reminding Steve of Ty.

  “That is fucking insane,” he said and Jennifer cleared her throat. CJ turned in her direction. “It is,” he said.

  “Language?” she said with her hands on her hips.

  CJ turned away and rolled his eyes, meeting Steve’s gaze.

  Steve raised an eyebrow, bringing Jennifer’s point home.

  “Fine, sorry for swearing, but Tom didn’t do this,” he said as he waved toward the table before turning and heading upstairs.

  Steve took a deep breath before bringing his glance back to Cleary. His boss knew enough about CJ Ryan to be nervous in his presence but he was never willing to admit it. When his gaze met Steve’s he shifted. “I’ll check this out.” He lifted the paper and gave a nod on his way out the door.

  “Jail?” Jennifer asked after the front door closed.

  Steve gave her a knowing look. “We knew that’s always been a possibility if the truth about Ty ever got out,” he said.

  “But…”

  “Look, I made a choice and I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” he said and crossed to her, pulling her against him. “It’s all just hearsay, and with my record, no judge will convict me just on hearsay alone.”

  “But what if they ask you if you knew who Chris really was?”

  Steve shifted and dropped his gaze.

  “You’d lie?” she asked, reading his hesitation wrong.

  The one thing he prided himself on was telling the truth. He had lied for a living for years while undercover, but ever since he took down the cocaine ring and became the target of Kyle Winslow, he hadn’t lied to anyone, never mind in a court of law and he wasn’t about to start now. “No,” he said and met her stare. They both knew what his honesty would cost and Jennifer pulled away, heading into the gym to work off her worry.

  Steve watched her go and sighed, turning his attention back to the papers strewn across the table, wondering if his boss would find a way to exonerate Tom, otherwise this all was going to culminate in the perfect storm.

  Chapter 12

  CJ sat on the edge of Tom’s bed and stared out the window at the ocean. “We need to find the Windwalker.” He turned his gaze toward his brother.

  Tom nodded and started to sign that Uncle Steve would find him.

  “They suspended Steve because they found Dad’s tapes in the attic. They think he knew about Dad and made him sign over all our money before he died.”

  “Bu hi,” Tom said.

  “I know. There’s a shit storm coming on all fronts and it isn’t going to be pretty.”

  We knew someday…Tom started and dropped his hands. He didn’t want to finish the sentence and silence settled between the two of them.

  “Yeah,” CJ finally whispered. The weight of his father’s sins bore down on him and he closed his eyes. “At least you’ve got a father you can be proud of,” he added, glancing at the Oscar sitting on the shelf.

  Without Dad, neither of us would be here, Tom signed. He made us possible.

  CJ laughed. “Still doesn’t make this any easier. I’ve got his blood in my veins and sometimes, I swear I can feel it burning the good out of me, like some crazy demon seed just waiting for the right moment to take over my life.” He inhaled and slowly released the lungful of air. “I can’t stand by and watch while they cart you away, Tom. You’re all I’ve got left.”

  That’s not true. You and Sandy have been together since Dad died.

  CJ closed his eyes, drifting back to that day and Sandy’s innocent kiss on his cheek, making him feel special even in the midst of the loss crushing him. Less than two weeks later, she had been instrumental in keeping him together when his mother’s coffin settled in the ground next to their father. Sandy had held his hand tight, her bright eyes shining with tears and her boundless energy kept under wraps just for him. Since then, there had been no one else that moved him, or made him laugh harder than she did, and it sucked that she lived in Connecticut. “Yeah, but she’s not around most of the time. Besides, you’re the only family I’ve got left.”

  Don’t worry about me. They aren’t going to convict me for something I didn’t do.

  CJ raised an eyebrow at Tom, keeping his skepticism in check. He knew from Steve’s silent assessment that they were building a strong case against Tom, even if it was all circumstantial. Tom’s faith was misplaced and CJ decided it was up to him to protect his brother, even if it meant he’d have to take the fall.

  “Don’t worry Tom, this will all go away when I find that bastard.” He flashed a grin that his mother would have recognized in an instant. It matched his father’s sadistic angel of death smile.

  You know you look like a crazy fuck when you grin like that. Tom signed and sent a smirk his way.

  “Aye-up,” CJ said and stood. “Steve might not be able to find this guy, but it’s now my life’s mission.” He walked out of the room and headed down to the kitchen where Steve sat going over the case file for the millionth time.

  “I want to help find the Windwalker.”

  Steve looked up from the papers. “The last time I enlisted your help on a case your brother almost died.”

  CJ took a seat on the opposite side of the table. “I know, but this is different. I’m almost eighteen and you know damn well I’m smarter than my old man ever was.” The scoff from the great beyond silenced him. His father was listening and while he couldn’t hear or see him directly, Steve channeled him just as clearly as if he was standing in the room. “I am,” he challenged the air. “And I’m on the right side of the law, which was something that escaped you most of your life.”

  “I wouldn’t piss off your father like that,” Steve said, gaining his attention and CJ saw the fleeting smile of approval before it disappeared from his lips.

  “Tom had it right the other day. Angel or not, he’s got no right to preach to us about what’s right or wrong, especially with his past.”

  Steve had always been good at hiding his feelings, and now was no different. “He tried to raise you boys with a moral compass despite his past, and I think he did a pretty good job.”

  CJ crossed his arms. “My mother did a good job.”

  “CJ, cut him some slack.”

  “Do you know how many lives he ruined?”

  Steve raised an eyeb
row. “I know. Believe me, I know more about your father and his life than I ever wanted to, so cut the preaching.” He folded the case file and pushed it aside.

  CJ glanced at the closed file. “You know, I’ve done some reading up on the psychological profile of serial killers…”

  Steve cut him off. “CJ, I know you’re smart and motivated, but searching on Google isn’t the same…”

  Irritation snaked over his skin in a hot prickly path and CJ framed a glare in Steve’s direction. “Don’t belittle my intelligence. You know I’ve got more behind this than just a genius IQ. I’ve got as much insight into this psycho as you do, especially with Jennifer’s visions. There’s an arrogance underlying his actions. An absolute certainty he will never get caught. He thinks he is as elusive as the wind, and takes great pride in that. If we dangle the right carrot in front of him, we can make him step out of his pattern. We can make him screw up.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Isn’t part of a serial killer’s profile the need for the attention?”

  “Yes.”

  “If we take the media attention away from him, wouldn’t that piss him off?”

  Steve leaned back, studying CJ in a way that made him shift under his stare. “What are you suggesting?”

  He spread his arms out. “Let’s give the world the Windwalker.”

  “Tom already has enough…”

  “I’m not talking about Tom. I’m talking about me. Ty Ryan’s son. A living, breathing monster, just like his father.” Even CJ heard the bitterness in his tone and he kept eye contact with Steve, watching his expression morph into one of open-mouthed horror.

  “Why would you even contemplate that?”

  “Tom didn’t do this, but he doesn’t have an alibi. Let’s give them something else. A sensation that the media will pounce on and we both know that will piss off the real killer.”

  “CJ, I don’t think you understand the ramifications of what you’re suggesting.”

  “I’ll confess.”

  Steve’s lips thinned and his eyes narrowed. “No.”

  “I know as much of the details as you do.”

  “Lying will backfire.”