Justice Returns: A Private Investigator Mystery Series (A Jake & Annie Lincoln Thriller Book 6)

by Rayven T. Hill

  Hank paused the tape, leaned in, and pointed to the screen. “That looks like the same gun Jeremy had.”

  Callaway moved in for a closer look. “Hard to tell, Hank. But it could be.”

  Hank sat back and looked up at Callaway. “Can you compare it to the video from Lisa Krunk?”

  “I’ll try. This is a video tape, so we don’t have very good resolution to work with, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “And run facial recognition on the robber. With a face like that, and a body that size, he shouldn’t be too hard to nail down.”

  Callaway squinted at the screen. “I think I can do that, even with the poor resolution.”

  “You can do it,” Hank said. “I’ve seen you do more with less.”

  They watched the rest of the video, until finally, the robber rushed from the store and the proprietor picked up the phone and called the police.

  “He had a gun,” Annie said. “But he didn’t use it. Even when the woman attacked him.”

  “I don’t think he’s a killer,” Hank said. “Just a big lug who used the gun to get what he wanted.”

  “What about the money?” Jake asked, explaining to Callaway about the money in the package they’d received. “This may be stretching it, but can you identify the bills the proprietor puts in the bag as being the same ones in the bundle?”

  “Not exactly, but I can look at the stacks of denominations as he pulls them from the register and compare them to how many are in your stack of bills.”

  “That’ll be close enough to give us a good idea,” Hank said. He looked at Jake. “If it fits, what’re the odds the money you got would be in similar amounts?”

  “Nil,” Annie said.

  Hank stood and pushed his chair away from the desk. “We’ll get out of Callaway’s way and let him do his magic.”

  Annie turned to Jake and touched his hand. “I think we may be on to something now. I’d like to stay here and see what Callaway comes up with.” She glanced at her watch. “We may be awhile. I’ll call Mom and ask her to go to the house and wait for Matty to get home.”

  Jake frowned. “Why your mother? Why not Chrissy?”

  “Because we take advantage of Chrissy’s good nature too much. Besides, Mom likes to feel needed.”

  Jake shrugged, nodded his agreement, and sat down in front of Hank’s desk. Even though her husband and her mother rarely saw eye to eye, Annie was glad Jake never put up much of an argument.

  She called her mother and was assured the woman would be happy to watch for Matty and why doesn’t her daughter call her more often. Annie chuckled, promised she would, and hung up.

  She turned to Jake. “Dad needs the car this afternoon, but she’ll get him to drop her off right away.”

  She smiled. For Jake’s sake, she would be sure to hustle her mother from the house as soon as they got home.

  Chapter 38

  Thursday, 2:11 PM

  JEREMY SPENCER drove slowly down the street, not worried about being recognized. The helmet hid his face quite well.

  He pulled to the side of the street, tugged the motorcycle over the curb, leaned it against a signpost, wrapped the chain around it, and locked it up securely. He was in a good neighborhood and didn’t expect anyone would touch it, but you can never be too careful.

  He took off the helmet, fastened it to the back of the bike, and pulled his cap from his back pocket, tugging it down low over his eyes.

  Strolling up the sidewalk, he approached the house with care and peeked in the small window in the garage. Perfect. Annie’s car was there, but Jake was gone. He was here to see Annie anyway, and preferred Jake to not be around.

  He went boldly to the front door and rang the bell, keeping his head low so his face couldn’t be seen through the peephole.

  “Who is it?” came a muffled voice.

  He gripped the pistol in his right hand. “It’s the boy scouts.” He hadn’t planned what to say. Whatever would a boy scout be doing coming around this time of day?

  His impromptu reply seemed to have worked. He heard the chain rattle and then the door opened.

  He raised the weapon and looked up, straight into the face of … a stranger?

  She gasped and tried to close the door, but he rammed into it with his shoulder. It popped open and he stepped inside, waving the pistol at the strange woman. “Where’s Annie?” he asked.

  The woman put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide, glaring at the weapon in his hand.

  “Stand back,” he said.

  She moved backward.

  “I’m here to see Annie.” He took a step forward and glanced down the hallway to the kitchen.

  “She … she’s not here.”

  Jeremy squinted closely at the strange woman. “Who’re you?”

  “I’m … I’m Annie’s mother.”

  She might’ve been lying; he’d better make sure. He waved the pistol toward the living room. “In there.”

  The woman who claimed to be Annie’s mother backed into the living room and sat carefully in a chair, never taking her eyes off him. He followed, keeping the weapon steady as he crossed the room and peeked into the office. It was empty.

  He returned and sat on the edge of the couch. “Do you have a name?” he asked.

  She paused and then said, “Alma.”

  Jeremy ran his eyes up and down her frame, stopping on her face. She looked somewhat like Annie, and not bad looking for her age. A little older than Annie of course, but the same blond hair, the same blue eyes, good figure, but somehow with a meaner, colder look about her.

  He decided she was telling the truth about who she was.

  “When will Annie be back?”

  “I … I’m not sure. She asked me to come over and wait until …”

  He frowned. “Until what?”

  “Never mind. She asked me to watch the house.”

  Jeremy sat back and laid the pistol in his lap. “I’m not here to kill Annie,” he said. “But I wanted to talk to her. She’s been doing some investigation for me.”

  Alma looked at him with contempt. “What kind of investigation would she be doing for you?”

  “She’s trying to find out who killed my parents. She surely is.”

  Alma watched him closely for a moment. “I heard about your Mother. I never knew her, but I heard she killed herself.”

  “No. She did not kill herself.” He spoke vehemently, almost in anger, and his hand moved to the pistol.

  She watched his movement. “You won’t shoot me,” she said in a cool, defiant voice. “I know all about you.”

  He forced back a smile. She sounded a lot like Annie sometimes, too. He picked up the pistol and waved it. “Sometimes I kill people for fun, too.”

  She laughed—a mocking laugh. Disbelief. “Name one person you’ve killed for fun.”

  “Never mind,” he said.

  She laughed again, leaned back in her chair, laid her arms on the armrests, crossed her legs, and relaxed.

  “I saw what you did on the news,” Alma said. “Do you think that’s going to bring back your parents?”

  She was starting to sound like the shrink he’d seen in prison, and it annoyed him. He gritted his teeth. “I don’t want to hear any of your psychobabble.”

  She persisted. “I don’t know much about your father, but I remember when he killed that boy. It was a shame, but I don’t think your father deserved to go to prison over it.”

  He cocked his head. “You remember that?”

  She nodded. “Of course. It was big news at the time.” She paused. “I’m sorry about your parents, but don’t you think you’re taking this too far?”

  “It can never be too far.” The sound of his voice almost surprised even him—angry, loud, through gritted teeth. He felt a growing rage and wanted to shoot her now. He raised the gun, his finger on the trigger, and his hand trembled as he repeated, “It surely can never be too far.”

  Alma’s eyes widened and she raised her hands h
alfway up. “Annie can find out who killed your parents if anyone can,” she said, her voice trembling. “Shooting me won’t help you.”

  He glared at her for almost a minute, until finally, he calmed down. He’d come close to pulling the trigger. Except for Joey, who hardly counted, that could’ve been the first time he killed an innocent person. She probably deserved it, but it wasn’t his job.

  He lowered the gun again, laid it in his lap, and crossed his arms.

  She relaxed somewhat. “If you’re planning on waiting until Annie gets home, it’s going to be awhile.”

  He looked around the room, not sure what to do. Finally, he said, “I’ll leave her a note.”

  Picking up his gun, he climbed off the couch and went into the office, keeping a careful eye on Alma through the open door. She was turned in her chair, watching him.

  He found a sheet of paper in the printer and a pen in the top drawer. “I was here to see how you were proceeding with Mother’s murder. I hope you got the money. J.S.,” he wrote. He folded the note and propped it up against the monitor. She would be sure to see it there.

  Alma turned back slowly, keeping an eye on him as he went back into the living room and stood in front of her. “I left a note,” he said. “Don’t touch it.”

  She said nothing.

  “I should go now,” he said. “I know you’ll probably call the police, and that’s all right.” He stared at her a moment, and then turned abruptly and strode to the door. “Make sure you put the chain on when I leave. You can never be too safe.”

  With that he opened the door, closed it behind him, tucked the gun behind his belt, and hurried down the street to the motorcycle.

  He was a little disappointed. He wanted to talk to Annie, but he didn’t dare call her. He had no idea what was happening with her investigation and was anxious to see Mother and Father’s killer brought to justice.

  Chapter 39

  Thursday, 2:33 PM

  JAKE’S CELL PHONE rang. He pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID, then frowned and looked at Annie. “It’s your mother. That may be the first time she’s ever called me.”

  Hank pushed back from his desk and grinned. “Even I know that’s unusual.”

  The phone rang again and Jake answered the call.

  “Jake, it’s Alma.” She sounded frantic.

  “Yes, Alma.”

  He heard her take a deep breath. “Jeremy Spencer was here.”

  Jake sat up, hit the speaker icon, and whispered, “Jeremy was there.” He spoke into the phone, “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine. A little shaken, but he didn’t try to harm me.”

  Annie leaned in. “What did he want, Mom?”

  “He said he wanted to speak to you, dear. I put on a brave face, but I wasn’t feeling so brave.”

  “Did he threaten you?” Jake asked.

  Alma paused. “He got angry at one point and I was afraid he might do something, but he calmed down.”

  “I never thought he would dare show his face there again,” Annie said.

  “Again?”

  Annie hesitated. “He was there once before. He said he would call, but he never did.”

  “Mrs. Roderick,” Hank said. “It’s Hank Corning. I’ll send an officer right over to watch the house in case he comes back.”

  “Thank you, Hank,” Alma said. “I really am quite shaken.”

  “Hang in there. Someone will take your statement as soon as you feel up to it. In the meantime, keep the door locked until the officer gets there.”

  Alma agreed and Jake hung up the phone.

  Hank shook his head, berating himself as he stood. “I really should’ve expected this. With Spencer, you have to expect the unexpected.” He crossed the room and spoke to the duty officer. When he returned, he sat down and said, “I’ve arranged for an officer to take the first shift. Be prepared for a cop to be at your house until we catch this guy.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jake said. “Whatever it takes.”

  “What about Matty?” Annie asked. “I think we should pick him up from school.”

  Hank jumped back up. “I’ll arrange it.” He went back to the duty desk and soon returned. “A cop will pick him up at school and take him home.”

  “Thank God for cops,” Annie said.

  “Hank, I got him.” It was Callaway calling from his desk, triumph in his voice.

  Hank spun around, got out of his chair, and Jake and Annie followed him to Callaway’s desk.

  Callaway was grinning. “I got an ID on the robber.”

  Hank leaned over, looked at Callaway’s monitor, and said, “Moses Thacker. Goes by the name of Moe. Got out of prison this Monday and already he’s back at it.” He looked at Callaway. “Do you have an address for this guy?”

  “Nope. No address.”

  “Get a BOLO out to everyone. Tell officers to bring him in, but use caution; assume he’s armed and dangerous.”

  “Right away, Hank.”

  “Will you print his complete profile out for me?” Annie asked.

  “Sure.” Callaway clicked an icon and the printer hummed.

  “What about the weapon he used at the robbery?” Hank asked.

  Callaway dug through a pile of papers, pulled out two sheets, and arranged them side by side on his desk. They were close-up pictures of Remington 38 Specials. He pointed to one. “This is from the interview. I had good quality footage to work with, so it’s pretty crisp.” He pointed to the other photo. “I couldn’t get a quality shot from the video tape, so I can’t swear to it, but they look the same.”

  Jake leaned in and inspected the print-outs. He couldn’t see any difference between the two.

  “They’re the same,” Annie said, certainty in her voice.

  Jake chuckled and looked at Annie. He didn’t question her. She would likely be proven to be correct.

  “We gotta get this guy,” Hank said grimly. “If we get him, we get Spencer.” He pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll talk to King. He’s got a lot of CIs and contacts on the streets. Maybe he can find out something.” He called the detective, filled him in, hung up, and turned to the Lincolns. “He’ll get right on it.”

  Callaway reached back into the stack of papers and pulled out some more print-outs. “Here’s the best part,” he said, as he laid out the papers. It was pictures of money. “I did an approximation of how many of each bill the storekeeper pulled out of the cash register, compared it to Annie’s stack, and I came up with figures close enough to be identical.”

  Hank pumped a fist and grinned at Annie. “You’re right.”

  “She always is,” Jake said.

  Annie disregarded the kudos. “Did you check the bills for prints?”

  “Sure,” Callaway said. “Every one of them was covered. The bills have been handled by a lot of people. We have a record of Thacker’s prints, but forensics didn’t find his on the bills, so there’s no definite proof it’s the same money. We found one of Spencer’s thumb prints on a bill, but that doesn’t prove a whole lot. We know it came from him.”

  “We don’t need solid proof,” Jake said. “We have enough evidence to connect him to Moses Thacker, and that’s all we need. We’ll get all the proof we want once they find him. It won’t be too easy for a big, ugly lunk like him to hide out for long.”

  “There’s one thing that confuses me about this,” Annie said. Jake and Hank looked at her and she continued, “Jeremy hates thieves, and yet, this money came from a robbery, and it appears to be his gun that was used. Surely he knew where the money came from.”

  “Maybe he’s branching out,” Jake said. “I’ll be sure to ask him before I knock his block off.”

  Hank scratched his head. “I’m confused about that too, but the evidence is right there, plain as day.”

  Yappy approached the desk. “Diego wants to see you,” he said to Hank, and pointed two fingers at the Lincolns. “And he said you two might as well come in too.”

&nbs
p; “Thanks, Yappy,” Hank said, and then looked at Annie. “Are we done here?”

  “I can’t think of anything else right now.”

  “Then let’s go see what the captain wants.”

  They went into Diego’s office. Annie sat in the guest chair and crossed her legs while Jake leaned against a filing cabinet. Hank stood at the end of the desk and looked at the captain, sitting forward in his straight-backed chair. “What’s up, Captain?”

  “Fill me in,” Diego said.

  Hank gave Diego the rundown on their recent discoveries, and added, “We’re getting close now.”

  “I want to hold a press conference a little later. Thought I’d give you some time to get ready.”

  “Anything special you want me to cover?”

  “Whatever you think, Hank,” Diego said. He straightened his tie and looked at Annie. “You making any headway with Spencer’s parents?”

  “Not a lot,” Annie said. “This case is colder than cold. The only thing I know for sure is Annette Spencer didn’t kill herself. But our proof burned up with the barn.”

  Diego thought about that a moment. “Somebody knows who killed her,” he said slowly, as if it was a profound statement.

  “Do you have any ideas for us, Captain Diego?” Annie asked.

  Diego cleared his throat and sat back. “I wish I did.”

  “Anything else, Captain?” Hank asked.

  “That’s it. I just wanted to give you a heads up about the press conference.”

  As they were leaving, Diego called to Jake.

  Jake turned around.

  “I understand you’re not interested in being sworn in as an auxiliary constable?”

  Jake shook his head. “No offense, Captain, but it’s not our thing.”

  Diego shrugged one shoulder. “Keep it in mind,” he said, and dismissed him with a wave. “Good luck.” Diego opened a file folder and Jake went back to Hank’s desk.

  “If we’re done here,” Annie said. “I have some research to take care of, and I’m sure my mother will want some company.”

  “I’ll let you know if anything pops,” Hank said as the Lincolns left.