An Eye for an Eye

by Caroline Fardig

  I struggled to keep my mind off the rows and rows of glittering bottles behind the bar and on the conversation as Baxter began asking Courtney about the time she spent living in the foster home with Justin Fox. As he built a rapport with her, he very carefully avoided the direct question of whether or not she’d had any contact with Justin lately. With people who were acquaintances of Justin’s, it was imperative that we didn’t tip our hand, keeping the guise of working his mother’s case as he’d asked. If one of them figured out we were trying to find Justin and told him, chances were he’d get pissed off and send us another angry video. Then at least we’d know we were close. At the same time, I hoped that didn’t happen, because I didn’t want to risk Rachel’s safety by enraging him.

  Baxter asked her, “Did he speak about any people who might have had a grudge against his mother?”

  Courtney shook her head sadly. “He never talked about her. He couldn’t. We all knew he’d lost his mom. The one kind thing the Reubens—our foster parents—ever did for him was warning the rest of us never to bring up the subject of his mother.”

  “We met with Wyatt Churchill earlier. It seemed that the abusive nature of that household helped him and Justin form a quick bond. Was that true for you as well?”

  “It was. I was a little older than them, and it bothered me to watch them get slapped around. I tried to intervene a few times, but I only ended up making our foster dad angrier and making it worse. I felt terrible sitting back and watching them suffer, but it was over faster if I did.”

  Baxter got at call, and he excused himself to take it, leaving me alone with Courtney.

  She regarded me for a moment. “You look unwell, Ms. Matthews. Can I get you some water?”

  I swiped the back of my hand over the sweat beaded on my upper lip. “No, thank you. I’m fine. It’s…all the running around in the cold…in and out of heated buildings with this big coat on…” I wrestled to remove my coat, only succeeding in making myself sweat more.

  Baxter rushed back over and said, “Ellie, we need to go. Ms. Kapinski, we’ll have to continue our discussion some other time. Thank you for meeting with us.”

  I grabbed my coat and followed Baxter out the door. I had to practically run to keep up with his long strides. He didn’t say a word until we were in his vehicle and speeding north, lights and siren on.

  “Look, Ellie, I don’t want to get your hopes up…but the Chief said he found a farm property in Jolietville that belongs to a brother of Tim Flynn, Justin Fox’s first foster dad. The guy also owns a 1985 Ford F-150. They thought it could be a strong lead, so they didn’t do the initial canvas—they went straight for a warrant to search the property.”

  My breath caught in my throat. “This could be it,” I whispered.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. In fact, the Chief didn’t want me to tell you about it.”

  “Why?” I demanded.

  His only answer was to cast a worried glance at me.

  I muttered, “I wish people would stop trying to protect me.”

  “I gathered that. And that’s why I told you. I thought you had a right to know.”

  The drive to Jolietville was the longest ten minutes of my life, with me waffling between the excitement of possibly having found Rachel to the sheer panic of not finding her, or worse, happening upon something horrific that I would never get over.

  When we arrived at the Flynn farm, the area in front of a ramshackle barn was packed with police vehicles, lights flashing. I hopped out of Baxter’s vehicle before it even came to a stop and raced toward the barn, disregarding shouts from various officers to stay back. Martinez grabbed me before I reached the barn doors. I struggled against him, but he had me in some kind of hold I couldn’t get out of.

  Just then, Esparza and Manetti, wearing Kevlar vests and deep frowns, exited the barn.

  When their eyes landed on me, I demanded, “Well? What did you find?”

  While Esparza threw a disgusted glare in Baxter’s direction, Manetti came my way. Martinez released me to Manetti, who took my arm and guided me away from the circus in front of the barn.

  His voice rough, he said, “I’m sorry, Ellie, but we didn’t find Rachel here. The interior of the barn looks nothing like the one in the video. This isn’t it. Again, I’m sorry. I was hoping to have it checked out before you were made aware of the situation, but I guess that didn’t happen.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes, and I snapped, “I am so done with everyone else making decisions on my behalf. Baxter is the only one around here who treats me like an adult.”

  Manetti’s jaw clenched. “Chief Esparza and I discussed it, and we thought it would be best not to take your focus off your investigation. It wasn’t as personal as you’re assuming. We need you not to get bogged down with the things that you can’t be a part of, anyway. Even if you’d gotten here sooner, you couldn’t have gone in there with us. You know that. And now you’ve wasted time running all the way out here.”

  Incensed, I sputtered, “You… You don’t need to tell me… Damn it! I… Shut up, Manetti.”

  I brushed past him and stalked back toward Baxter’s vehicle. Not having found a better outlet for my rage, I slammed my fists down on the hood.

  Baxter appeared next to me and said quietly, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  We rode in silence toward downtown Indianapolis for our next interview, which was with Tyrone Leonard. Baxter had rescheduled with Courtney Kapinski for tomorrow to pick up where we left off. After the disappointment of not having found Rachel, I barely had the energy to hold my head up on the long drive.

  Tyrone Leonard worked in one of the big bank buildings downtown as an asset manager. His assistant showed us to his office, which had a stunning view of the Indianapolis skyline. Certificates of his accomplishments, a diploma for graduating with honors from Indiana University, and photos of him with his well-to-do friends lined the walls. His expensive suit still sharp after a day’s work, Tyrone carried himself in a manner that suggested pride and confidence.

  After our introductions, he smiled and shook our hands, saying smoothly, “What can I do for you today?”

  Baxter said, “We’re investigating a murder case involving a former foster brother of yours. Justin Fox. Remember him?”

  “Vaguely.” Tyrone thought for a moment, and his eyes widened. “Wait, a murder case? Are you saying my old foster brother is the same Justin Fox who’s all over the news? Wow. I hadn’t thought about him in years. Didn’t even make the connection.”

  “We’re actually investigating his mother’s murder case from years ago. Did he ever talk about her or make mention of her death?”

  “No, and we were told not to bring it up. He was a bit of an odd bird—not at all surprising given the fact that Steve Reuben beat the hell out of us on a nearly daily basis. After we were removed from the Reuben house, we went our separate ways, but we did happen to end up at the same high school. I heard he burned down his next foster family’s house. I can’t say I was too surprised when the news came out.”

  “Why were you not surprised?”

  He frowned. “Mainly the way he would react to Steve hitting him. He got a wild look in his eye, like he was some kind of animal. He’d lash out at us other kids. Then he’d steal our belongings and burn them in the backyard.”

  “Did your foster parents know this?”

  “No. For as much as I didn’t like the kid, I didn’t narc on him. Mainly because once Steve started dishing out punishment, we all got some. So I took care of it myself.” He smiled slightly. “I wasn’t always as mild-mannered as I may seem now.”

  Baxter said, “You said you hadn’t thought about him in years. Was there no contact between the two of you after high school?”

  “For the most part, there was no contact after we were taken from the Reubens. Justin was still in middle school at the time. When he got to my high school, I was a senior, so I rarely crossed paths
with the guy.”

  “Would he know how to contact you if he needed to?”

  Tyrone shrugged. “I have no idea. I mean, I guess he could find me online easily enough.”

  “What about the others who lived in the Reuben house with you? Was he closer to them?”

  “He and Wyatt were joined at the hip. Little freaks, both of them, and together they always managed to make trouble for the rest of us. For whatever reason, Courtney took a liking to them and felt the need to protect them. All it got her was beat up.”

  Baxter asked, “Do you know if he kept in contact with either of them?”

  “No idea, besides the fact that he and Wyatt were a package deal going to the next foster home.”

  “Do you keep in contact with Courtney Kapinski?”

  “No.” Tyrone frowned. “What does all this have to do with Justin’s mother’s murder case? It happened before he was in the system. It was the reason he was in the system.”

  “That’s correct. But we’ve found in reopening her case that many of the people involved have passed away. It would be helpful to speak with Justin Fox, but of course he’s hiding out at the moment. We were hoping to find a friend or two he’d confided in all those years ago, thinking maybe they’d have information we need.”

  I could see the wheels turning in Tyrone’s head. He was a bright guy, there was no doubt.

  He finally asked, “Why? Do you think he killed his mom, too?”

  Feeling a cold shiver run up my spine, I glanced at Baxter. That thought had never crossed my mind. I couldn’t imagine a ten-year-old boy killing his own mother. But if anyone was that deranged, it was Justin Fox.

  Baxter didn’t miss a beat. “No, we think maybe he has some insight into the events leading up to the murder that would be helpful to us.”

  Tyrone shook his head. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, but I’ve done my best to leave my past behind me.”

  Handing him a card, Baxter said, “Thanks for your time, Mr. Leonard. If you think of anything, or if Justin Fox or any mutual acquaintance of yours tries to contact you, please give me a call.”

  “Sure thing.”

  ***

  As Baxter and I walked down Meridian Street toward the parking garage where we’d left his vehicle, I said, “What do you think about Tyrone’s question of whether or not Justin killed his mom?”

  “Ah, I don’t think it’s possible. I don’t think any ten-year-old would have the strength to crush an adult’s hyoid, even if said adult was incapacitated. Besides, why would he want us to figure out that he was to blame?”

  “Because he’s freaking nuts, and one more murder charge won’t make a damn bit of difference to the life sentence he’ll be facing.”

  “Someone’s awfully cynical.” When we got to Maryland Street, Baxter gestured to a restaurant across the street called Nada. “While we’re here, you want to grab some dinner? I think we both could use some downtime.”

  “It probably wouldn’t hurt.”

  Once inside the chic, vibrant restaurant, we were shown to a semi-secluded booth in the bustling dining room. We were lucky to not have to wait for a table on a Friday night in December. It was only five PM, and while most restaurants downtown normally didn’t get packed until much later, the closer it got to Christmas, the more difficult it was to get a table at any time. I ordered a stiff drink, and aside from flicking a glance at me, Baxter didn’t object.

  But when my drink came and I guzzled it in under a minute, he couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “I don’t want to start anything, Ellie, but I’ve been wondering lately if maybe you’re not working through your problems in the healthiest way.” He eyed my empty glass.

  “I’m having one drink with dinner, Nick.”

  “We’re in the middle of an investigation.”

  It seemed to me he did in fact want to start something, and I wasn’t having it. “Yes, but I’m a civilian, I don’t carry a gun, and I’m not a county employee, so that rule doesn’t really apply to me.”

  “I need you sober if we’re working a case together.”

  “I am sober.”

  “At the moment. How many drinks do you have a week?”

  I sat back and crossed my arms. “I see what you’re doing, and you can cut that shit out right now. You’re trying to fix me again, and I don’t need it.”

  He blew out a breath. “Ellie, I care about…your wellbeing. I’ve seen enough people battle addiction, and…I want to make sure you get help before it gets too far out of hand.”

  I could feel heat rising on my cheeks. “Are you calling me an alcoholic?”

  “If the shoe fits. You’ve had alcohol on your breath nearly every day for the past week.”

  “I have not,” I fired back, my heart hammering in my chest.

  Narrowing his eyes, he said, “Do you think I’m stupid? All the cough drops and mints in the world can’t cover up the smell of alcohol, Ellie. I don’t know who you thought you were fooling.”

  I began to have that feeling again, like my world was crumbling before my eyes and I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. I couldn’t respond. I thought I was fooling everyone. Evidently I was only fooling myself.

  Baxter’s expression softened. “Quitting is not going to be easy, but you’re not in this alone.”

  I took a deep breath to settle my nerves. “You don’t need to supervise me. I’ll handle this.”

  “You’re not handling it. You’re brushing it under the rug, like you do with everything else you don’t want to deal with.”

  “What do you want me to do, Nick?” I snapped. “I can’t go cold turkey right now. It would wreak havoc on my system and on my head.”

  “You do realize that what you’re doing could kill you. You have to quit.”

  “I’m doing what I can. Don’t judge me.”

  “I’m not judging—I’m trying to help.” He added under his breath, “And trying not to enable you in the process.”

  I hung my head, knowing he was right but at the same time not wanting to give up the one thing that was keeping me sane right now. “I’ll admit I’m not in the best place at the moment.”

  “No shit.”

  “But I can’t deal with what’s happening to Rachel, work this case, and go through withdrawal all at the same time.” I looked up at him pleadingly. “I won’t survive it, Nick. Please don’t try to make me. I’ve been a wreck this afternoon, all shaky and unfocused.”

  He wiped a hand down his face. “Okay. But let’s taper you off now, and then when this is over you have to get help. No excuses.”

  Mortified that Baxter of all people had guessed my so carefully controlled secret, I looked down again so I didn’t have to see the disappointment on his face. “I will. I promise.”

  ***

  Dinner after that discussion was a real downer. We wolfed down our food, barely saying two words to each other, and the deafening silence continued until we were in his vehicle and heading back north toward Noblesville.

  “I want to start hitting up Justin Fox’s old places of employment tonight after the meeting. The list is mostly restaurants, stores, and gas stations, so they should all be open late. Maybe tomorrow we can start running down more foster families like the Reubens and the Greens. I’d also like to track down Alyssa Flynn from Justin Fox’s first foster family if we can. She probably doesn’t live around here, but I think it’s worth contacting her.”

  “What meeting?”

  “The one with the Fed that we’re going to be late for if this traffic doesn’t ease up,” he said, frowning at the line of slow moving vehicles in front of him.

  I checked my phone. I’d gotten a text from Manetti, but I’d ignored it after our heated exchange earlier. Had I bothered to read it, I would have known about the meeting. “I hope the others have more to report than we do.”

  ***

  Baxter and I got to the conference room fifteen minutes late, but the rest of the team had waited for us.

&nbs
p; Manetti should have taken his break at six, but he was still here after seven. The man was dedicated, I had to give him that.

  He said, “Let’s make this quick. Sheriff Walsh and Ms. Carmack, you’re up first.”

  Jayne passed each of us a printed sheet. “We’ve researched every unsolved auto and home arson in the county in the past seven years, large and small. We also cross-referenced commercial arsons against our list of Justin Fox’s former places of employment. Aside from the fires that killed the Kendricks and the Shivelys, three stand out to us as being particularly interesting. The first was at a convenience store that Justin had been fired from a week prior. It’s the first job we have on record for him. The second was Mariella Vasquez’s vehicle. Someone threw a Molotov cocktail through the window of her car one night while it was sitting on the street in front of her house. The third was a fire that destroyed the home of Rajit Prasad, Leann Fox’s former boyfriend, who she was living with shortly before she met Samuel. No injuries on that one. The family was out of town.”

  Shaking his head, Baxter said, “I can imagine the kind of screwed-up history the Foxes had with Leann’s ex. I guess we’ll put Prasad on our list. Can someone run background on him?”

  Martinez made a note on the legal pad in front of him. “Will do.”

  Manetti said, “Speaking of those arsons, I managed to find Samuel Fox’s former cellmate and spoke to him over Skype. He had a lot to say about his old friend. The way this guy tells it, Fox thought of nothing else while he was in the joint besides making everyone who had wronged him pay. It infuriated him that his kid was forced into the system, but when he found out his baby boy had been living on the streets for years, he lost it. He made a list of everyone who’d screwed him over, and when the kid would come to visit, they would decide who they wanted to target next. Then the kid would go out and deliver the punishment.”