“Hands up where I can see them!”
They pressed him against the wall as they cuffed him from behind while reading him his rights, and as they dragged him out of the room, he called to her.
“I’m not the one doing this. Please believe me?”
“I do...” Jessica said.
But to his ears, her words sounded weak and faithless.
CHAPTER 14
THE PRESENT
Detroit, Michigan
Sewer workers discovered the nude body of Deidra Webber wedged into a drainage pipe. The woman had died from a series of blows to the head and face.
The coroner determined that the time of death took place six days ago, and so the D.A. charged Kenny Posnanski and his men with all five murders, despite the fact that not one bit of forensic evidence had been discovered to back their claims.
***
John Schulz was one of many reporters covering the story, but the only one to openly express doubt that the police had arrested the right men. Schulz was known for generally doubting much of what the police department said, and in truth, had unearthed more than one scandal within the department during his thirty-three years as a reporter.
When told that he had a phone call from the “real killer”, Schulz chuckled and walked over to his desk. He put the phone to his ear while scratching the ever-expanding bald spot atop his head.
“Schulz here, speak your piece,”
“I killed those know-it-all bitches, not those Nazi pricks.”
The voice was strange, squeaky. It was either a man pretending to be a woman, or a woman doing a bad job of sounding like a man.
“Sure you did, what’s your name?”
“I can’t give you my name, you know that, but I can give you proof.”
“Right, silly me, so what’s this proof?”
“Deidra Webber’s wallet and keys, I can tell you exactly where they are.”
“Of course you can.”
“You don’t believe me? Don’t then, but I’ll tell you where to find them, what you do with that information is up to you.”
Schulz smirked into the phone.
“Thanks, so what’s this info?”
The caller told him that the keys and wallet were in a watertight plastic bag sitting at the bottom of a toilet tank in a restaurant on Main Street. Schulz wrote the info down more out of habit than belief, before tearing the sheet off the pad and placing it in his side pocket.
Afterwards, he thanked the caller for their help, and even before the call ended, he had dismissed it as a crank.
At eight that night, as he reached into his pocket to pay his bar tab, he came across the piece of paper. After reading what he had scribbled down, he realized that the address given was just two blocks south of where he was.
He drove to the restaurant feeling like a chump and went to the last stall, where he carefully lifted the lid on the toilet tank.
I’ll be damned, Schulz thought. There’s something down there.
He yanked the dripping plastic bag from its resting place. Inside the bag was a set of keys and a burgundy wallet, a women’s wallet. When he opened it, he saw the formally pretty face of Deidra Webber looking back at him from the photo of her driver’s license.
Schulz took out his phone and dialed his editor.
“Hello?”
“Eddie, Eddie it’s me, Johnny, and I’m about to say something that I’ve wanted to say for thirty-three years.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that?”
“Hold the presses! Hold the fucking presses.”
CHAPTER 15
THE PAST
Cambridge, Massachusetts
After five straight hours of repetitive interrogation, they allowed him to make a phone call. When Juliet answered his call instead of Jessica, his heart sank, and when Juliet told him that Jessica was out, but that she didn’t know where, his mind conjured an image of Jessica sitting there by the phone, waving Juliet off, while mouthing the words, “I don’t ever want to talk to him again.”
He hung up the phone as another new emotion formed within—dejection.
He had been unhappy with life at times, but never to this degree. If Jessica had truly abandoned him, then nothing else mattered.
They processed him into the system with a charge of felony murder and attempted rape. Apparently, the second murdered woman had been found wearing a torn nightgown.
He sat in a cell alone wearing an orange jumpsuit, while thoughts of Jessica floated through his mind.
***
Hours later, he was transferred to a courtroom, where a man in a suit introduced himself as Jeff Roman and declared himself his lawyer.
When his bail was set at a hundred thousand dollars, his lawyer assured the judge that payment was being made and requested that his client be released as soon as possible.
“What are you doing? I don’t have that much money.”
Jeff Roman smiled at him.
“It’s taken care of, trust me. Now listen, they’ll transport you back to the jail and process you out, and I’ll be waiting when they release you.”
He had a dozen questions he wanted to ask, but one of the guards gave a tug on his arm and soon he was headed back to the jail.
After changing into his clothes and gathering his belongings, he was released, and found his lawyer waiting outside on the steps, standing beside him was Jessica’s father, Dr. James White.
“Dr. White, are you the one who paid my bail?”
“Yes, but give me a moment while I say goodbye to Jeff.”
He nodded, and then looked about for Jessica, but she was nowhere in sight.
After the lawyer left, Dr. White gave him a good look.
“How are you? Were you treated well?”
“Yes, but the police think that I killed those girls. I didn’t do it, sir.”
“I know that. If I had even the slightest doubt about that I would have let you rot, no matter how much Jessica begged me to help you.”
“Jessica sent you here? Is she all right? When can I see her?”
The doctor took him by the shoulders.
“She’s waiting for you back at the hotel. I saw no reason for her to see you in chains.”
“Yes, thank you for that, and for believing in me.”
“It was the least I could do, after all, if not for you I wouldn’t be here. Think of this as my thanks for you saving my life.”
***
On the ride to the hotel, Dr. White explained to him that after his arrest, Jessica had called and asked for his help. He had taken the first flight out and met a tearful Jessica at the airport. After checking in at the hotel, he met his old friend, Jeff Roman, at the courthouse.
“They’ve positively identified that screwdriver as being the murder weapon. That can only mean that someone is framing you, do you have any idea who it could be?”
“No, but I’m guessing that it’s someone who lives in the building.”
“That makes sense; I’ll go and talk to the police. Given my experience in criminal profiling, perhaps I can get them to look in another direction.”
“Thank you, Doctor, for everything, thank you,”
“Do you love my daughter?”
“I...I love her more than life.”
The doctor shook his head slightly.
“The look on her face when she met me at the airport, it was as if her whole world were coming to an end. I haven’t seen that look since her mother died.”
They drove on in silence for a time, but then the doctor spoke.
“I was a sixteen-year-old bag boy at the local supermarket when I met Jessica’s mother. I barely made any money and spent most of it drinking and playing pool on the weekends. Jessica’s mother, Susan, she came from an upper-middle-class family and had dreams of going to Harvard, while no one in my family had ever even graduated high school before.
“I changed, it wasn’t easy and it didn’t happen overnight but I changed and when graduation arrived
, I was not only class valedictorian, but I was on my way to Harvard with her. What about you, son, do you want more from life, or are you willing to settle for being a janitor?”
“I won’t settle until I become the absolute best at something. It won’t be the same path you took, but I promise you that I’ll make a success of my life and make Jessica proud.”
“And what if you fail, what then?”
He stared at the doctor until the man met his intense eyes.
“I won’t fail. I can’t.”
The doctor returned his gaze to the road.
“That’s the only answer I would have accepted.”
***
He no sooner stepped off the hotel elevator, than Jessica ran from the doorway of a room and flew into his arms. As they parted, she smiled at her father.
“Thank you, Daddy,”
“You’re welcome, baby,” the doctor said, and then he handed him a keycard. “You’re in room 915. Meet me in the restaurant for breakfast at eight and then we’ll go have a talk with the lawyers.”
“Yes sir, and thank you again,”
“You’re welcome, goodnight you two,”
***
When they entered his hotel room, he turned on the lamp and sat on the edge of the bed. The walls were papered in a wildflower pattern and the room smelled faintly of carpet cleaner. Jessica walked over to the wide windows and drew the curtains closed, afterward, she settled beside him on the bed.
“Juliet told me that you called. I’m sorry I wasn’t there, but I was on my way to the airport to pick-up Daddy.”
“I thought that you were there, but that you didn’t want to speak to me, that you believed I killed those girls. I... I thought that you had left me.”
She turned her head and stared at him.
“I’ll never leave you.”
“We both know that you have more reason to believe in my guilt than anyone.”
“I don’t care.”
“What?”
“I said I don’t care if you killed them. Don’t misunderstand, I know you didn’t, couldn’t have killed them, but as the police were taking you away I realized something.”
“What was that?”
She got up from the bed and moved in front of him, to cradle his head against her breasts.
“People have abandoned you your entire life. First, your father, then that succession of men you call the Thirty-nine, and even your mother, the one person on earth that you should have been able to count on. But, baby, believe me when I tell you that I’m yours, I love you with all my heart and, whatever else you are, you’re mine and I’ll never leave you.”
He managed to get the words out, from a throat that was suddenly tight.
“I love you, Jessica.”
“Are you crying?”
“Yes, I’m sorry,”
“Don’t be, I’ve a feeling that your tears are way overdue.”
“Stay with me tonight?”
She leaned back as she tilted his head up to look at her.
“I’m yours, forever and always.”
“And I’m yours.”
“Oh yes,” she said, before reaching over and turning out the light.
CHAPTER 16
THE PRESENT
Detroit, Michigan
The headline read, Real Killer Surfaces! Offers proof of Guilt!
After the reporter, Schulz, recovered Deidra Webber’s wallet and keys, the police grudgingly reopened their investigation, while still keeping Kenny Posnanski and his men behind bars.
Jessica was asked to stay and help, and so she and her husband found themselves in the conference room, waiting for Stiles and Detective McGraw to arrive. The two of them were already ten minutes late.
Jessica tapped her husband on the shoulder and pointed out the window. Below them was the parking lot, and from their vantage point, they watched as Stiles and McGraw emerged from their vehicles and began walking towards the building.
After taking a quick look around, Stiles leaned over and gave McGraw a peck on the lips. McGraw smiled and then said something that made Stiles break out in laughter.
“It looks like their dinner turned into more than dinner,” Jessica said.
When Stiles and McGraw showed up at the conference room, they did so minutes apart and greeted each other as if it were their first meeting of the day.
Stiles opened a folder and read from it.
“The only prints found on Deidra Webber’s wallet belonged to her and that reporter, Schulz, and unfortunately the call from the person who gave him the tip went unrecorded. However, we do know that the call came from a payphone in the same restaurant that the wallet and keys were found. We’re interviewing the staff, but so far there’s been no luck at getting a description.”
“I’d like to finish our tour of the abduction sites,” Jessica said. “But I’d also liked to get a look at the sites where the bodies were left. There has to be a reason why the killer would choose these sites over others.”
McGraw stood. “Why don’t we go now?”
***
A few hours later, they had toured all the sites and Jessica had a question for McGraw.
“How is it possible that he’s avoided all the security cameras?”
“Oh, well he didn’t actually, we have footage of a hooded figure wearing gloves at most of the abduction sites, but they reveal nothing of his face, and all of the abductions took place in dead zones between cameras.”
“That can’t be luck.”
“No, he must be scouting each area before he makes his move.”
“What about a vehicle? Is there any footage of what he’s driving?”
“None, it’s one of the frustrations about this case. We have no clue how he’s moving his victims about.”
“I’d like to see this film,” he said.
“Sure, I’ll drop you and your wife off at the surveillance center and they can give you what you need, they’re in the basement at headquarters.”
***
When they arrived at the surveillance center, McGraw introduced them to the officer in charge. Her name was Captain Robin Wilde. Wilde was a tall black woman who hid her figure beneath a staid business suit and her face, although pretty, was devoid of make-up.
The city’s surveillance center was a large, oblong-shaped room filled with rows of desk. Each desk was attended to by an officer and contained several monitors, along with a specialized keyboard and a phone. Some of the monitors showed several scenes at once, while others displayed only graphs. At the back were several offices, along with a room with tables and a counter, the break room.
McGraw explained what they needed and Wilde called a man over to assist them. His name was Steven and Wilde talked to him as if he were a slow-witted child. Steven was black with short hair, and wore a perpetual smile that seemed to perturb Wilde.
“Do you understand what I need you to do, Steven?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll escort the doctor and her husband to a viewing room and get right on it.”
“No, I want you to go and set everything up first. I don’t want to waste the doctor’s valuable time. When you’re ready for her, let me know.”
“Yes, Captain Wilde,” Steven said, before turning and walking off.
Wilde frowned after him.
“His father is a former deputy police commissioner. They placed him here thinking that he wouldn’t have to work. I’m determined to disabuse him of that notion.”
“Didn’t he used to work in the civilian office upstairs?” McGraw said.
“Yes, but the office manager, Mrs. Chambers, she couldn’t deal with him. She said he was disrespectful towards her; that’s not something I’ll put up with.”
McGraw spoke to Jessica.
“Let me know if you come across anything new. I’ll be upstairs with Agent Stiles.”
Jessica grinned.
“We’ll do that, and thanks for your help today.”
***
Hours
later, they had studied all of the surveillance video and had come to a conclusion about the killer.
He either had an uncanny knack for avoiding cameras or he was a ghost. In the few frames of film they had of him, he appeared as a tall figure clad in a black hoodie with matching sweatpants and black sneakers. He never turned his face towards the camera and where he came from and where he went to were a mystery. He simply walked out of camera range and disappeared.
Captain Wilde entered the room and spoke to Jessica.
“I believe you’ve seen everything that we have. Is there something else that we can do for you?”
“No thank you, and I’d like to say that Steven here has been very helpful.”
Captain Wilde frowned at Steven, whose smile now seemed a bit smug.
“Steven was simply doing his job, a rarity, believe me. By the way, Doctor, I’ve been meaning to ask you, are you the same Dr. White who solved the Iron Horse murders years ago? If so, you must have been quite young at the time,”
Jessica grinned.
“Oh no, that was my father, Dr. James White, my father was a pioneer in criminal profiling.”
Captain Wilde’s face looked even more stern than usual, as she looked down her nose at Jessica.
“I see, so you’re simply riding Daddy’s coattails, hmm?”
Jessica took a step back.
“What a rude remark, and not that I care what you think, but I’ve worked hard to earn my own reputation.”
Captain Wilde answered those words with a smirk, before turning her gaze on Steven.
“After the doctor leaves, I want you to catalog that footage from sector five.”
“Yes, Captain, but I was thinking I could take a break first.”
“You thought wrong, catalog sector five as soon as possible.”
“But I haven’t had a break all day and I’m off duty in an hour.”
Captain Wilde grinned.
“Oh, I see, you want to take a break so that you’ll run into overtime, well, not on my watch. Catalog sector five and then go home.”
The smile at last left Steven’s face.
“I have a right to take a break.”
“Then take it, and suffer the consequences.”
Steven stared at Wilde as if he could strangle her.
The TAKEN! Series - Books 5-8 (Taken! Box Set Book 2) Page 6
