by J. C. Fields
Kruger ended the call and looked at Joseph. “I feel like I’m spinning my wheels. Bishop’s out there somewhere just beyond our reach. I’m worried some poor soul is going to pay for our incompetence with their life.”
“Maybe not.”
Kruger gave Joseph a scornful look. “You and I both know he’s going to hold up somewhere. For how long, who knows? If we don’t have some kind of contact with him in the next few days, someone will be dead, and it will be my fault.”
***
Rosie Singleton didn’t drive to St. Louis on Friday morning. She couldn’t. She was tied up. Each of her arms and legs were tied to one of the four cherry wood posts on the bedframe she inherited from her grandmother. Her left eye was swollen, turning black and blue from the first blow Randolph Bishop landed as she opened the door the previous evening. Subsequent strikes with a belt on her body had left welts and a few cuts. She was naked, except for her panties and a strip of duct tape across her mouth.
Bishop stood at the bottom on the bed looking at the partially conscious woman. The smile on his face grew as he used a pair of scissors to cut away Rosie’s underpants. Once they were off, he unzipped his pants and climbed onto the bed. Rosie suddenly realized what was going to happen, stared at him, and tried to scream.
***
JR stared at the computer screens without blinking for fifteen minutes. Mia stood behind him rubbing his shoulders. “You’re awful tense, JR.”
He nodded.
“How long are you going to stare at it?”
“All night, if I have to.”
“Again, what are you looking for?”
“Bishop’s left a trail somewhere. There has to be some trace of him. It’s not possible in this day and age to do anything and not leave an electronic crumb.”
Mia continued to rub his shoulders. “How’s he getting around?”
“Rental.”
“If he’s in Columbia, could you check to see if someone has turned in a rental in the past couple of days from, let’s say, out in the west?”
JR whipped around and stared at Mia. “Most rentals are local, returned to the location it was rented from.” He returned to the computer keyboard and started typing furiously, the shoulder rub forgotten.
***
An hour later, Kruger, Joseph, and Sandy Knoll stood behind JR as he explained the files on the computer screen. “After searching one-way rentals made over the past six days, I came across this one in Columbia.” He pointed to the left screen. “A Gary Yates returned, without prior approval from the rental company, a Dodge Charger rented in Phoenix, Arizona, to the Hertz counter in Columbia. The Charger was rented two days before Bishop’s Jeep was found stripped and abandoned. There is a note by the rental agent. The renter did not complain about the stiff fine he paid and then walked to the taxi queue and left via a cab.”
Kruger murmured, “Huh.”
Knoll leaned over to look at the file closer. “What are the odds?”
JR tapped a few more keys and pointed to another file. “This is the paperwork sent to the Jefferson City office of the Missouri Department of Revenue by Joe Maxim’s Ford in Columbia. Gary Yates paid ninety-nine hundred dollars, cash, for a white 2012 Chevrolet Equinox the next day.”
“It’s him, JR.”
“I would agree.”
“But where is he now?” asked Sandy.
JR held up a finger and smiled. “There is a hotel next to the car lot. I hacked into their registration system and guess what?”
“Gary Yates was registered,” Kruger folded his arms across his chest.
JR nodded. “Checked out this morning.”
Kruger turned away from the group and stared out one of the windows close to the cubicle. After several minutes, he turned back and put his hands on his hips.
Joseph spoke first. “I’ve seen that look before. What are you thinking, Sean.”
All three of the other men in the room looked at Kruger.
“In the late nineties, Chevrolet started putting On-Star service on their vehicles. Now the units are standard equipment. On-Star has many functions, but one of the main functions is to provide hands-free GPS directions to drivers. To do that, the On-Star system has to…”
“…Know where the vehicle is at all the times,” JR finished, his eyes widening.
Kruger nodded.
Without another word, JR turned back to his computer and started doing what he did best—hacking into a corporate server.
***
An hour later, the four men sat in JR’s conference room. JR turned his laptop so the rest of the group could see a map on the screen. He pointed to a dot north of Columbia, in a small town labeled Hallsville.
“That is the current location of the Equinox purchased by Gary Yates. According to the Boone County Assessor’s office, the house at that location is owned by a woman named Rosie Singleton. Rosie works for the City of Columbia as an admin for the City Attorney. Mia called the office and asked for her. She was told Rosie was on vacation for the next two weeks.” JR looked at each of the men seated at the conference table. “I would say she’s in trouble.”
Knoll stood up and left the conference room.
Kruger stood as well. “I’ve got my go-bag in the car, Steph and Kristin are safe here. I’m going to Columbia, and hopefully, I can stop this psychopath from killing again.”
JR looked up at him. “I’m going, too.”
Kruger stared at his friend. “We need you here for the information.”
JR pointed at the laptops. “They’re portable, Sean.”
Kruger looked at Joseph, who nodded. “I’ll stay here. Besides, I’m getting too old for this stuff.”
Knoll stuck his head back into the room. “I’ve pulled three of the six guys I have in Columbia heading toward the house. They’ll put it under surveillance until I get there.”
“JR and I are going. You can follow me with your Denali; we’ll need your equipment. I’ll call a buddy of mine with the Highway Patrol and clear the way. He might even provide an escort.”
Knoll smiled, nodded, and headed toward the stairs.
Kruger turned to JR. “Go pack something fast.”
JR nodded toward a backpack in the corner of the conference room. “Already did.”
***
“We think we’ve found Bishop.”
Stephanie stood staring at her husband, her arms crossed over her chest, frowning. She started to say something, but hesitated.
“Did you hear me?”
She nodded, but dipped her eyes and studied the carpet. “I heard you.” She paused for a few moments. “But… I don’t want you going.”
Kruger took a breath and tilted his head slightly to the left. “Really. Why?”
She shook her head, “Not sure. I want Bishop out of our lives. But…”
The silence made Kruger shiver. “What are you concerned about, Steph?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“Why?”
She exhaled loudly. “I don’t want you taking vengeance out on this man, Sean. If you do, it will steal your soul.”
Kruger stared at her for several moments. “I’m just trying to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone else.”
“No, that’s not it, Sean.” She stepped closer to him and put her arms around his waist. Looking up into his eyes, her voice was slightly shaky. “I love you, and I’ve grown to know you better than you know yourself.”
He did not respond.
“If you go to Columbia and find Bishop, you’ll execute him without hesitation. You’ll become judge, jury, and executioner within the time it take to blink an eye.
Kruger was silent, his arms around her waist. Finally after looking into her eyes for a minute, he shook his head. “No, I won’t.”
“Yes, you will.” She laid her head on his chest. “You’re still scared Kristin and I will be abducted again. The only way you can prevent another episode is to execute
him.”
The truth hurts sometimes. It was a first time for Kruger, his voice caught as he spoke. “I’d never…”
“Never what, Sean?”
He turned his head and stared at nothing. “When I received the call about you and Kristin being abducted, I faced a real possibility I’d never see either of you again.” He returned his gaze to her face. “I went into automatic mode, relying on my training and years of experience on how to be prepared for all contingencies. I knew what needed to be done, so I called JR. Without him, I wouldn’t have found you. It was when I realized you and Kristin might be gone forever, that I understood no one has ever been as important to me as you. No one. Trust me when I say, I will not do anything to prevent our growing old together. That includes executing Bishop.”
She smiled and placed her forehead on his chest. He felt her nod.
Chapter 34
Columbia, MO
“Allen, I need a couple of favors.”
Major Allen Boone with the Missouri State Highway Patrol chuckled. Kruger was talking to Boone through the Mustang’s hands-free SYNC cell phone system. He and JR were cruising northeast on I-44 toward Lebanon, Missouri, at ninety-five miles an hour, the Mustang’s custom installed police emergency lights flashing. Sandy Knoll was several car lengths behind.
“Name it, Sean.”
“Remember Randolph Bishop?”
“Hard to forget. Why?”
“We think we’ve located him north of Columbia. I’m heading there now. The first favor I need is for you to alert your patrol units I’m running with lights only in a two-vehicle caravan. I’d like an escort once I’m heading north on 5 out of Lebanon.”
“When do you think you’ll be there?”
Kruger glanced at the dash clock. “Twenty-five minutes.”
“Done. What’s the second favor?”
“We’ve got three men on scene watching his suspected location. We know his vehicle. I would like some help isolating the area.”
“Where is it?”
“Hallsville.”
Boone was silent for a few moments. “I’ll have a Rapid Response Team join your caravan as you pass through Jeff City. Plus, I’ll dispatch several patrol cars toward Hallsville now.”
“Thanks, Allen. One more thing.” He took a breath. “I don’t want to step on any toes with this operation. We have three men on scene with our task force, ex-Special Forces. Their team leader, retired Major Benedict Knoll, will be directing the scene once we arrive.”
Boone was silent again. “Under what jurisdiction are you operating? We can’t be a part of an illegal military operation inside the United States, Sean. You know that.”
“It’s not military. We’re part of an FBI task force. If you need confirmation, call Deputy Director Alan Seltzer. He’ll take your call and confirm it.”
“Good, I’ll make the call to cover both our asses.”
“Thanks, Allen.”
***
Rosie Singleton’s house was as anonymous as the rest of the homes in her quiet neighborhood of Hallsville. Built in the late sixties, a faux brick facade and new vinyl siding gave it a pleasant appearance on the outside. Its mature landscaping included two massive oak trees, numerous smaller decorative trees, and an abundance of bushes and flowers.
Missouri Highway Patrol cars cruised the entrances to the subdivision, maintaining as low a profile as possible. Parked on the street in front of the house was a white Chevrolet Equinox, stationary since Sandy Knoll’s team of three ex-special forces operatives set up surveillance five hours earlier. Rosie’s house appeared empty.
With the help of the Missouri Highway Patrol Rapid Response Team asking permission from current owners, the team set up two observation posts in the house across the street and the house directly behind Rosie’s home. Two members of the RRT and one of Sandy’s team occupied both locations. Sandy was in the house behind Rosie’s home using a state-of-the-art thermal imaging camera. Kruger and JR were with him.
“I’ve got one heat source in the house, besides the furnace. Lights show up as heat sources and I’m not seeing any.” Sandy returned his attention to the east side of the house. “It’s horizontal, about three feet off the floor.”
“JR found the architect for the subdivision. It’s a back bedroom. Can you tell the size of the image?”
“It’s too small for a male. It’s either a large dog, or…” He removed his eyes from the camera and turned to look at Kruger. “A female. She’s still alive, Sean.”
“No other heat signatures?”
Knoll shook his head. “She’s alone in the house.”
“She could be asleep.” JR looked up from his laptop.
Kruger shook his head. “We’re going in. I don’t care if it’s a mistake and she’s taking a nap. I’ll apologize later. If she’s alive, let’s keep her that way.”
Sandy nodded and handed the camera to his teammate. “Keep an eye on the heat signature. If you notice anything at all change, call me.”
The man nodded.
***
Sandy Knoll, Jimmy Gibbs and Kruger comprised the main entry team, while RRT members stood as back-up. Black jeans, black Kevlar vests over black long sleeve t-shirts, black watch caps and black steel-toed combat boots were the wardrobe. It was approaching 10 p.m. and the neighborhood was quiet. Knoll slipped night vision googles over his eyes and nodded at Gibbs. “I’m first in, you and Kruger breach the door. From what we can see on the thermal, it will be dark inside.”
Kruger and Gibbs slipped their night vision googles down and stood ready.
Knoll held up three fingers. “On three, one, two, three…”
A loud crack was heard as the two-man breaching tool slammed into the back door jamb. Splintered wood flew as the door crashed against a wall. Knoll was in the room before the door hit the wall, moving fast through the laundry room into the kitchen. Gibbs and Kruger were close behind sweeping with their outstretched Glocks, making sure rooms were empty. Each man said, “Clear,” as they moved through the house, not seeing any obstructions or opponents.
Knoll was first into the bedroom and rushed to the bed. “Female, shallow breathing, heart rate erratic.” He turned toward Gibbs. “Call 911 and get your kit.”
Kruger found the light switch and called, “Lights.” All three men stripped off their night googles. Gibbs was on his cell phone directing an ambulance as Kruger moved back to the woman.
She was naked, curled into a fetal position, with one leg handcuffed to a bed post. He found a blanket at the foot of the bed and quickly covered her. Once she was secured, he walked out of the room to check the other bedrooms they cleared before entering the back room.
He turned a light switch on and stared at the contents. Knoll walked up behind him. “Looks like he’s planning to return.”
Kruger nodded, but said nothing. He moved to the center of the room, and using his Glock, moved one of the flaps of a duffel bag.
“I’ve got cash here. Lots of cash. He definitely was planning on returning. I’ll tell Boone he’s still in the area.”
***
Flashing emergency light bars of four Highway Patrol and two county sheriff’s cars reflected off the front bedroom walls. The sound of a medivac helicopter, with Rosie Singleton inside, could be heard receding into the night. Allen Boone stood in the doorway and leaned against the door frame.
“How’d you know?” He stared at Kruger, who at the moment, was searching files in a cardboard box from the closet.
Where Kruger was tall, slender and athletic, Boone showed the signs of a decade behind a desk. A year younger than his friend, Boone’s hair was mostly gray and thinning, the last remaining strands of black surrendering to the onslaught of middle age. He was dressed in jeans and a Highway Patrol windbreaker. His slightly round face tilted to the side.
“Didn’t. But I couldn’t take the chance.” Kruger looked up. “Too many people have fallen prey to Bishop. It stops here.”
“The EM
T told me she was suffering from dehydration, hypothermia and trauma. She was just hours from death, Sean. ”
“Will she be okay?” Kruger’s voice was steady, despite his building anger.
Boone nodded, “They started fluids before taking off. The EMT I spoke to was optimistic, she seemed to think Rosie would recover physically. She was concerned about her emotional state. There was evidence of a beating and violent, repeated rape.”
Kruger looked up, his eyes staring at nothing. “I was afraid of that.”
He hesitated for a moment before returning his attention to the file box. “Garage is empty.” He held up several sheets of paper. “Insurance papers indicate she owns a 2011 Honda Civic. My bet is Bishop is using it to watch my son’s apartment.”
Boone stood up from leaning on the frame, his eyes wide.
Kruger smiled grimly. “There are three, very competent gentlemen, watching over Brian and Michelle. I’m not worried. Yet.”
“I’ll dispatch some of these officers to start looking for the Honda?”
Kruger nodded and handed Boone a sheet of paper. “Here’s her Department Of Revenue car registration.” He pointed to a spot on the paper. “There’s her license plate number.”
Boone took the paper and left the room.
Knoll walked in. “I’m sending my guys back to Brian’s house. I can go or stay, your decision.”
“Go, Boone’s men have this covered. JR and I will join you after we secure the house.”
After Knoll left the room, Kruger stopped searching the file box and turned to JR. The computer genius was typing on the keyboard of a desktop computer. The old style bulky tube monitor sat on a small desk in the corner of the spare bedroom. Cables draping over the edge were attached to the computer box sitting on the floor. Kruger could tell he was focused and asked, “Find anything?”
Having known JR for several years, the lack of an immediate response was not unusual. Kruger waited. After several minutes, JR looked at him. “Maybe.”
