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

by Rayven T. Hill

  As Jake drove home, he reflected on the day’s discoveries. They were finally getting somewhere, and he could almost see that little creep behind bars already.

  Chapter 40

  Thursday, 3:18 PM

  BY THE TIME the Lincolns arrived home, Matty was already there and an officer was in the entranceway. Matty rushed from the kitchen when he heard his mother’s voice as she greeted the cop.

  “Mom, what’s going on?” he asked. “Why did a policeman pick me up at school?”

  Annie crouched down, gave her son a hug, and then held him at arm’s length. “I wanted you to be safe. There might be some danger from a case your father and I are working on.”

  Matty frowned. “Is this another killer you guys are trying to catch?” He crossed his arms. “Because if it is, you might need my help.” He tried to keep a straight face, but Annie wasn’t fooled.

  Jake leaned down. “Matty, we’re put on this earth to help other people.”

  “Oh?” Matty said. “What’re the other people here for?”

  Jake straightened and scratched his head as Matty scurried away, back to the kitchen.

  “I think his brain is bigger than his body,” Annie said.

  “Don’t let his size fool you,” Jake said. “He’s tougher than he looks.” He put his arms around his wife. “And so are you.”

  The officer cleared his throat and wandered into the kitchen while Jake gave Annie an extended kiss.

  Eventually, she had to push him away. “There’s time for that later. Right now, I have to talk to Mom.”

  “It’s a date,” Jake called, as she went toward the kitchen.

  Annie’s mother sat at the table, Matty beside her. She’d struck up a conversation with the officer—something to do with citizens carrying handguns. The discussion ceased when Annie came into the room. She went to the table, leaned down, and hugged her mother.

  “Are you ok?” Annie asked.

  “I’m all right. Sit down, dear,” Alma said, waving toward a chair.

  Annie sat and faced her mother. “I can take you home whenever you want.”

  She turned when she heard Jake from the doorway. “I can take her.”

  Alma didn’t give her usual haughty look at Jake’s presence, but rather forced a weak smile. “Thanks, Jake. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

  Annie and Jake exchanged a look as Alma rose from the table. Her mother found her handbag in the living room and waited silently in the front hall.

  “Drive slowly,” Annie whispered to Jake.

  He grinned. “I’ll try.” And then he left.

  While Matty pestered the officer with questions, Annie went to the office. As she reached to switch on her iMac, she saw a folded piece of paper leaning against the monitor. She picked it up, opened it, and read its contents. It was signed, J.S.

  She pushed the note aside, not sure what to make of it, and booted her computer. She needed to make some notes while the information they’d discussed at the precinct was fresh in her mind.

  Her concentration was interrupted a few minutes later when the phone on the desk rang. She swung around and picked up the receiver.

  “Lincoln Investigations.”

  “Mrs. Lincoln, it’s Jeremy.”

  Annie spun around. The red light on the recorder was blinking. The call would be recorded. “Yes, Jeremy.”

  “Did you get my note?”

  “Yes. I just got home now and saw it.”

  “I’m sorry I missed you,” he said.

  “You frightened my mother. Please don’t come around here any more.” She sounded like she was scolding him, and if it wasn’t so deadly serious, it would almost be humorous. Who scolds a serial killer and expects them to listen?

  “Please give her my apologies,” he said. “I had no plans to hurt anyone. I only wanted to talk to you about my parents.”

  Annie didn’t answer. She heard him breathing on the line.

  “Did you find out anything?” he asked.

  She paused, not sure how much to tell him. She would need to be careful not to put him on his guard, or give away anything they’d discovered.

  “Did you get the money?” he asked.

  She didn’t want to mention the robbery and their evidence of his involvement. “Yes, I got the money,” was all she said.

  “I’m sorry it couldn’t be more. I’ll get as much as I can eventually, but I need to know if you’ve made any headway?”

  “I’ve been looking into it but haven’t come up with anything solid yet.”

  “Have you been trying?” His voice was louder, slightly frantic.

  “I’ve talked to a few people and did some research,” she said.

  “I don’t think you’re trying hard enough.” There was a pause on the line and Jeremy spoke more calmly. “If I tell you something, will you spend more time?”

  “Tell me something? Like what?”

  Another pause, then, “Where a body is buried.”

  Annie caught her breath. She thought before answering. “Yes, I’ll spend a lot more time.”

  “His name was Joey Benitto,” Jeremy said. “I killed him nine years ago. They never knew what happened to him.”

  She was stunned. The case had made headlines for many weeks as the search dragged on and on. She remembered it like it was yesterday—the news conferences, and the tearful pleas from the boy’s mother, without a trace of Joey or a plausible reason for his disappearance.

  “Where’s he buried?” she asked at last, finding it hard to breathe.

  “Near my house. In the forest.”

  “Will you show me where?”

  “Mrs. Lincoln, I’m not going to show you in person. That would never do.” He paused, and then said, “But I can describe the exact location to you.”

  She scrambled to find a piece of paper and a pen. “I’m listening.”

  “You promise to find Mother’s murderer—and Father’s?”

  “I’ll do everything I possibly can. I’ll give you my word, but there’s not much to go on yet.” She didn’t want to promise anything, but she also didn’t want to discourage him. “The research I’ve done so far leads me to believe your mother didn’t kill herself. I’m convinced of that, and the police are convinced as well. They’ll give me everything I need to continue the investigation.”

  She heard his breathing on the line. Finally, he took a long breath and said, “In the forest, about a quarter mile straight west of my house, there’re three tall maple trees that make a perfect triangle. That’s where Joey is. Right in the middle, buried deep.”

  She scribbled down the information. “Why’d you kill him, Jeremy?” she asked.

  “Because he was a bully and deserved to die.” He paused, then, “Just find my parents’ killer.”

  “Jeremy, if you turn yourself over to the police, they’ll help you. I’m sure you’ll get extra consideration for telling us about Joey.” She knew that wasn’t accurate and it was a useless request, her feeble attempt to keep him on the line a little longer.

  He must’ve known what she was trying to do. “I have to go now,” he said. “I know the police are likely tracing this call. They won’t find me, of course. I’m using a throw-away phone.”

  “Wait, Jeremy.” But the line was dead and he was gone.

  She dialed Hank’s number immediately and filled him in on Jeremy’s revelation.

  He remembered the case well and was almost speechless at first. “I was still a beat cop,” he said. “But I was involved in the search. I hope he’s telling the truth.”

  “I believe he was. He seems desperate to find out who killed his parents and he wouldn’t send us off on a futile chase. That wouldn’t help his cause.”

  “We’ll soon find out,” Hank said. “As well, Spencer’s call was traced and police have been dispatched. They’ll scour the entire area.”

  “He said he used a burner phone.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it, but I’ll let you know if they find any
thing. In the meantime, I’m getting ready for the press conference, and then I’ll organize a search for Joey Benitto’s body.”

  Jake had returned, and he came into the office and sat down, watching Annie curiously.

  “I’ll talk to you soon,” she said to Hank, and then hung up.

  “Is something up?” Jake asked.

  “There certainly is. Jeremy called.”

  She played back the recorded call as Jake sat leaned forward, listening intently, his face clouding over with anger. When the call was finished, he sat back, took a deep breath, and glared at the phone, speechless.

  Chapter 41

  Thursday, 4:28 PM

  HANK SCANNED his notes for the press conference, tucked them in a file folder, and went into Diego’s office. The captain looked up, sat back in his chair, and brushed down his bristling mustache.

  “We may have a conclusion to a cold case,” Hank said.

  The captain sat forward. “The Lincolns found out who killed Annette Spencer?”

  “Better than that. Remember Joey Benitto? The boy who went missing a few years ago?”

  Diego frowned. “I think so. We never found him, right?”

  “Right. But Jeremy Spencer is claiming to have killed Joey and buried his body in the forest near his home.”

  Diego’s eyes widened. “Spencer? He would’ve been a teenager at the time.”

  “Sixteen years old, I believe. And Joey was fifteen. Spencer called Annie a few minutes ago, and in return for her work on his mother’s case, gave her the exact location. I’m going to organize a search right after the press conference.”

  “This is big news,” Diego said. “No one was ever sure what happened to the boy.”

  “It sure is. I hope it pans out,” Hank said, as he turned to go. “All ready for the press conference? The crowd is waiting.”

  Diego stood. “I’m ready.” Together they went to the front door of the precinct.

  News vans and vehicles lined the street. Photographers and reporters bustled about, jockeying for the best spot at the podium. Passing cars were directed through the maze, and curious passersby stopped to see what all the commotion was.

  Hank came from the precinct doors behind Captain Diego, followed by a pair of uniforms. They came down the steps, stopping at the makeshift podium set up at the bottom of the stairs.

  Hank looked over the crowd of reporters. Lisa Krunk was at her usual spot, front row center, Don at her side with the camera ready. Other familiar faces waited eagerly as Hank removed his notes from the file folder, spread them out on the podium, and cleared his throat.

  “Thank you all for coming.” He paused. “As you all know, Jeremy Spencer escaped federal custody on Tuesday, and has made his presence felt in this city once again.”

  The crowd murmured.

  “As with his original victims, he’s again targeting those who’ve been less than honest. We have reason to believe he’s responsible for three more recent murders, two today, and one yesterday.

  “I can’t go into detail on those specific cases as they’re still under investigation, but suffice it to say, Spencer is a person of interest in all three murders, as well as wanted for being a fugitive who escaped federal custody.”

  Hank held up an 8x10 photo. “Spencer is suspected to be in the company of this man, Moses Thacker. Thacker was released from prison this Monday. Copies of this photo will be handed out to all of you after the conference. I urge you to broadcast or print this picture with a notice he’s wanted for questioning.”

  “As always, I urge the public, if you see either of these men, call 9-1-1 immediately. Don’t try to approach or apprehend them.”

  Hank paused, studied his notes, and then looked out over the crowd. “As I said before, Spencer targets those who’ve been less than honest. I urge you, if you fit this description, to be very careful.”

  Hank glanced briefly at Lisa and continued, “As noted by a recent broadcast, Spencer is a self-styled vigilante who feels it’s his mission to eradicate from this city those individuals who have no respect for the property of others.”

  He paused again. “I’ll take any questions now.”

  Lisa Krunk’s loud voice could be heard over the shouts of others. Hank avoided her and pointed to a reporter in the second row.

  “Detective Corning, you’ve indicated Spencer targets those who’re less than honest. Does that description exclude anyone?”

  Hank chuckled. “I guess we’ve all been less than honest in some ways, but Spencer targets thieves. Specifically, those who steal from others.”

  Hank pointed to another reporter.

  “Detective, do you have any indication of Spencer’s whereabouts?”

  “We’re currently following up on a number of leads and hope to make an arrest soon.”

  And again. “Do you know who burned down the barn at the Spencer residence?”

  “The fire investigators are still looking into it. We have no evidence of arson.”

  Hank pointed to Lisa.

  “Detective, I understand the Lincolns are involved in this case. Given their role in apprehending Spencer last time, can you tell me what part they’re playing this time?”

  Hank glanced at Diego. The captain gave an almost imperceptible nod. Hank said, “Their role in this case is strictly in an advisory capacity. As you indicated, they have certain expertise in this case and we don’t want to leave any stone unturned in our search.”

  Question after question came, some thought provoking, most redundant, all sincere.

  Hank held up a hand. “There’ll be no more questions. We’ll issue a press release when further information becomes available.”

  As the crowd pelted him with more, Hank closed the folder and leaned in to the mike. “I want to urge the citizens of this city to be cautious. None of us are exempt from danger, and until this vicious murderer has been caught, please be careful.” He paused. “Especially anyone who suspects they may be among those he targets.”

  Hank picked up the folder and turned. The assembled group wanted more, but Hank climbed the steps behind Captain Diego and disappeared inside the building.

  Diego pulled Hank aside. “I’ll give you all the manpower you want in the search for Joey Benitto’s body.”

  “I’ve already made a call to Toronto,” Hank said. “They’re sending out a GPR technician. Ground penetrating radar will find that body quicker than anything else. If Spencer gave us the right instructions, we already have an approximate, perhaps a precise, location. Corpse-sniffing dogs or chemical analyses of air and soil won’t do the trick accurately. That body has been there for almost ten years.”

  Diego slapped Hank on the back. “Get on it, Hank. And let me know the minute you find something.”

  Hank knew this would be good for the captain’s career. Solving a high-profile cold case was not something done every day, at least, in this city it wasn’t. It would be good for his career as well, but he wasn’t concerned about that. He was going to make sure Jake and Annie got their due credit.

  He dropped the file folder into his drawer and then went to Callaway’s desk. The cop had his nose buried in his monitor. “Did you get anything on Spencer’s call?” Hank asked. “I assume he wasn’t caught or the champagne would be flowing.”

  Callaway shook his head. “There was no trace of him anywhere in the vicinity where the call was made. There was no GPS on the phone itself, but I was able to triangulate the phone’s approximate location during the call. Spencer appeared to be on the move, and as the cell towers tracked the signals, I could compute his rough location. We had his exact position at one point, but the call was terminated and he was gone before officers got there.”

  “I expected as much,” Hank said. “We’ll get him yet.”

  He went back to his desk to arrange for the excavation of the remains of Joey Benitto.

  Chapter 42

  Thursday, 5:05 PM

  JEREMY SPENCER turned off the television; he�
�d seen enough of the news. What made him chuckle was Detective Corning’s warning to thieves to be careful. There was no end of those, and he would have his pick, but he would have to be cautious in who he chose. He decided to stay away from high-profile cases in the news, and find another way to select his targets. Perhaps old news stories would be ripe for the picking.

  The morning’s events were on the news as well. Somehow, they’d connected the killing of Wendell Hatfield and his secretary to him. He wasn’t sure how they’d done that and didn’t really care. He was more than willing to take credit for what he’d accomplished.

  The police seemed to be making assumptions. He was careful not to be seen, but somehow they knew he was also responsible for the demise of Jackson Badger. Perhaps it was because the targets of the justice he meted out were thieves.

  Either way, being the subject of the lead story didn’t bother him. He’d expected that, and would’ve been disappointed if it were otherwise. But what he didn’t expect, and it worried him, was to see Moe’s face all over the news.

  He looked at his friend, who sat at the table, turned toward the blackened screen of the television.

  Moe frowned as he caught Jeremy’s gaze. “How did they get my picture?” he asked.

  “Either the storeowner identified you in the mug books, or they had a video. You’re an ex-con, Moe. It wouldn’t be hard to find out who you are.”

  “Maybe we should leave town,” Moe said. “Find another city or small town where they don’t know us.” He paused, his frown deepening. “I don’t want to go back to prison.”

  They were in a predicament. Jeremy didn’t want to leave Richmond Hill. Not only did he love the city, but he had a lot of unfinished business here, and he was determined to find his parents’ killer. But he felt responsible for Moe. The lug couldn’t take care of himself and he couldn’t stay out of trouble.

  “We can’t leave yet,” Jeremy said. “You’ll have to stay inside the apartment. No offense, Moe, but your face is too easy to recognize.”