by David Carner
“Hello, may I speak to Agent Cosby?” He listened and answered. “This is agent Luke McDonald with the Secret Service.
Vermont
John Fowler
Chapter 21
As John drove down the interstate toward the small town where Tom Bradley resided, he had to admit, Jessica knew how to take care of him. When he got off of the plane, John hadn’t even thought about how to get to the Bradley residence. Jessica had reserved a car for John and had the rental company preprogram the navigation system for him. As great as that was, Jessica had made sure he had satellite radio. Eighties music was blaring out of the speakers and John was singing along at the top of his lungs.
John was smiling and thinking about life. Not two days ago, he contemplated picking up a bottle and taking a drink. Today, he didn’t even think about a drink until the flight stewardess asked him if he would like something on the plane. He always thought he had been close before to breaking down and drinking. He never knew how wrong he was about that until he got on the plane.
John hated flying. When the stewardess came by with her cart, it was all John could do not to grab the entire bottle off of her cart. He settled for a soda, but he kept one eye on the cart as it went by. John gave an involuntary shudder as he thought about the flight. It wasn’t that the flight was bumpy or bad, but that it was so unnatural. John shook his head and took in the countryside. He had gotten very lucky. The road had every chance of being covered in snow, but it wasn’t. Snow covered the fields and trees, but the road was clear. John chuckled to himself.
John had grown up in Western Kentucky. This amount of snow would actually have been enough to close down county schools for several days. It amazed him at how little snow bothered things here. Of course there was a huge difference in the type of snow that fell in each region. Here when it snowed, it snowed. Back in Kentucky it might be freezing rain, sleet, or just flat out ice. In the northeast, the drivers here were used to driving in snow. When it snowed in Western Kentucky . . . you would think people had never seen the stuff. John was glad he didn’t drive very much in New York, and he had honestly been worried about this drive in Vermont, but it had actually been very nice.
Sam, of course, had loved the snow. He thought she was slightly deranged because of it, but he had to admit New York City was beautiful at night right after a freshly fallen snow. As John looked around the countryside, he thought about how beautiful the scenery was. It looked like something right out of a Christmas card or one of those 1000 pieces puzzles Sam used to love to work on.
The GPS interrupted his thoughts. He turned onto a two lane road. Deep down he was beginning to feel dread welling up in his stomach. He always hated to talk to spouses of those that had lost loved ones, and he had no idea how he would personally react to this one. This would be the first interview he conducted since Sam’s death.
As he drove down the road noticing the similarities between his former home and Vermont, he thought about his parents. He loved his parents, but he hadn’t been able to face them. He thought about the look on his Mom’s face when he had told her that she had raised a killer. She had known he hadn’t actually killed Sam, but John had never explained to her what he had meant.
Deep down John knew he had to see his parents soon. He had to tell them what had happened, Sam would want him to. Sam loved his parents. She had always said she had wished her parents had been more like his. The one thing that John regretted the most since Sam’s death was his distancing himself from them. He knew they would listen to him, tell him it wasn’t his fault, but until now he wasn’t ready to hear that. He didn’t even know if he was now. He did know he was the closest he had been in three years to talk to them about what had happened. Once again John’s GPS interrupted his thoughts.
He drove through the little town until he came upon the Bradley residence. As he pulled up in the drive, John steadied himself. He had no idea what to expect. He opened the car door and started up the walk.
Chapter 22
John walked up to the door and knocked. A couple of seconds later, the door opened.
“Mrs. Bradley?” John asked, extending his hand, “I’m John Fowler, consultant to the FBI.” Mrs. Bradley shook John’s hand.
“Please, call me Joan.” She stepped back to let John into the house. “Welcome, and please come in.” John stepped through the doorway and walked into the house. John looked around. To be a doctor’s house, it was quite modest. Joan motioned for him to continue into the living room and offered him a seat. John sat down on the couch.
“Thank you for seeing me.” John took a second to steady himself. “I truly mean this, I am sorry for your loss.” Joan gave him a tight lip smiled and nodded for him to continue. “Joan, I need you to think real hard, do you know of any connection your husband had to the others that were murdered, or the soldier whose funeral they were attending?”
Joan looked down. John spoke very softly and encouragingly to her. “Joan, take your time. I lost my wife a few years ago, and I know how hard it is to think about your spouse in any capacity without feeling the grief.” Joan squeezed John’s hand, and looked up at him with tears in her eyes.
“I gave the sheriff a couple of Christmas cards that I found,” replied Joan. “I have no idea when he met any of them. The other mourners I mean. He never spoke about them, and he never hung up the Christmas cards they sent. He just kept them in a box. It wasn’t hidden in the attic or anything like that. It was just in a box. Everything I found I took down to the sheriff last week.” John nodded and gave her an encouraging smile.
“Ok, thank you. That helps a lot. Is it ok with you if I pick those items up and take them back to New York with me?” Joan nodded. “I don’t want to ask you a bunch of questions that the local PD already has.” Joan smiled appreciatively. “Do you mind if I look around the house and see if I can find anything that might give me a lead?”
“Mr. Fowler, you have my permission to look anywhere on my property you want.” Tears glistened in Joan’s eyes. “You might try his study, that’s where I found the letters. I have already been through it, but you’re the professional, maybe you’ll find something I missed. Would you like a glass of tea?”
John smiled, “Thank you, Joan. A glass of tea would be great.” Joan headed toward the kitchen and John headed toward the study. John had little hope of finding anything. He knew if Joan had been through the study and couldn’t find anything, unless there were secret panels or something of that nature, he probably wouldn’t have much luck. John began searching Tom’s desk, bookshelf, and looked around for any hidden wall safes. After three hours of thoroughly searching the study, and three glasses of ice tea, John asked permission to take Tom’s computer tower back to New York. Joan agreed. John walked back into the study and took one more look to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He couldn’t help the feeling that he had missed something. As he glanced around, he realized he hadn’t checked the back of the study door. He really didn’t expect to find a sign with the name of the murderer, but he would take anything at this point. John closed the door to the study and looked at the back of the door.
John gave a low whistle. Now while what he found wasn’t a smoking gun, it was a lead. A small one, and possibly nothing but a wild goose chase, but it was the first lead he had found in a two week old case. He walked back into the kitchen where he found Joan. She was looking through some photo albums at the kitchen table. John motioned to the seat beside her and she nodded.
“Joan, did you ever know of Tom living in Kentucky?”
Joan looked stunned. “Agent Fowler . . . how did you know?”
Chapter 23
John smiled inwardly at Joan’s astonishment. It felt good to see one of his hunches had actually paid off. It had been so long since he had one, he had been hesitant to even broach the topic.
John had found the same familiar blue and white calendar that was hanging in John’s apartment with his favorite college basketball team on the back of
Tom’s study door. John thought Tom was close to John’s age, mid to late 30s. Now while it was possible Tom never lived in Kentucky and was enough of a fan of the Cats to hang a current basketball calendar in his personal study, John doubted it. Typically if someone was enough of a fan to hang a calendar at Tom’s age, there had to be a personal connection to the team. John knew from experience if you had ever lived in Kentucky it was a tradition in many houses for one of two different college basketball calendars to hang. It was a bit of a leap in logic, but it didn’t hurt to ask.
“I think he did,” Joan said, looking a little ashamed. “He never talked about it, but there were things he said every now or then . . . Every year in March he watches college basketball and roots for the Kentucky team like it’s . . .”
“A religion?” John finished the thought for her. Joan’s face lit up.
“Yes!!” She was very excited now. “Oh and if the games were close . . . he would pace the house like a man possessed.” Her eyes were sparkling talking about Tom. John smiled inwardly. After all he had been through with Sam; he knew telling these stories about Tom were therapeutic for her.
“Was he a quiet man, or loud and boisterous . . . somewhere in between?” John asked.
“Oh he was a very quiet, patient, courteous man . . . except when basketball was on!” Joan was shaking her head and started chuckling. “One year they went into double overtime during the tournament and I thought he would have a stroke!!”
John chuckled. It sounded like every Cats fan he had ever known. John needed to steer Joan to remember things she didn’t know she knew.
“When do you think he was there; high school, middle school, younger?” John asked.
Joan paused for a minute. John thought he had made a mistake and Joan was about to become emotional, but after a second though she answered.
“I know he was born here in Vermont, and graduated high school in Vermont, but it seems it was sometime during his middle grades.” She paused. John felt like she was about to tell him a big secret. Joan looked around like she was making sure no one was listening. She leaned in and talked softly.
“He never talked about it, but it seems like something bad happened there. Some nights he would have these dreams. He would never talk about them, but the next day he was moody, and Tom was rarely moody. One time after he got one of these Christmas cards, he had very bad dreams that night. He got up in the middle of the night and went down to his office. I came to check on him and his chair was turned away from the doorway. He was holding the letter, crying and kept saying, ‘We have to tell what happened.’ He sounded so distraught. I didn’t want to pry you see. I love . . . loved.” Joan looked up at John tears streaming down her face. John took her hands in his. “I don’t know what it was all about, but Tom didn’t want to share it, and Tom shared everything with me. If he didn’t want me to know this, then who was I to pry?” Joan was close to breaking down. “Is this what he was killed over?” John didn’t know what to say. Joan began to sob uncontrollably.
John pulled her close and tried to console her. When she finally calmed down, she looked somewhat sheepish. “I’m sorry, Agent Fowler.”
John patted her hands. “Mrs. Bradley, I don’t know what happened yet, but I promise you I will do everything in my power to figure this out.” Joan nodded, tears in her eyes. “Joan, I’m going to take the hard drive and the things from the sheriff’s office, but I want you to know, I think you just gave me a huge lead in finding who killed your husband.”
Joan smiled. John stood up and thanked her. He picked up the hard drive and headed toward his car. Joan stood on the porch watching him leave. John put the hard drive in the car and looked back toward the porch. “Mrs. Bradley,” John called out. “I’m going to get who did this. I promise.” Joan looked relieved. John got in the car, waved and drove off.
John never promised the victim’s family that he would find the perpetrator. This time was different. He knew he would find the person responsible. He had too many people depending on him . . . but most importantly, himself.
New York FBI Office
Director Lionel Pennyworth Smothers III-Trip
Chapter 24
Trip hung up the phone. He looked very concerned. He got up from his desk and walked down the hall to Bruce’s office. He hated that Bruce got all of this attention, but those in Washington had told him to offer Bruce the case. He glanced in the door and saw Bruce on the phone chatting it up. Trip thought about barging in, but knew it would be pointless. Bruce, as obnoxious as he was, never called his father about anything, and even if he did, it was not like Senator Cosby would do anything for Bruce.
Trip headed back to his office fuming. He had just been ordered to hand over the current case to Bruce and Trip had no intention of doing so. Trip knew Jessica’s and Chet’s careers would be doomed if he did. They wouldn’t be fired, but they would never have a career that would amount to anything if he did.
Trip stormed into office and slammed the door. The more he thought about what had happened, the madder he got. He knew deep down this was some type of political maneuvering. Trip knew he had been accused by others of not sticking his neck out for his agents, but for the most part they were not in critical spots in their careers like Jessica and Chet were now. Trip sat down at his desk. He cleared his desk off. Once that was done, he leaned back in his chair, placed his feet on his desk, placed his hands together and moved them toward his face with his thumbs touching his chin and his index fingers touching his forehead. He then closed his eyes. He sat like that for nearly an hour, thinking. Suddenly he opened his eyes, removed his feet from his desk and sat forward. He had an idea. It would be a longshot, but with the situation Jessica and Chet were in, it really didn’t matter. He called down to the foxhole and asked Jessica and Chet to join him in his office.
When Jessica and Chet came in, they noticed how concerned Trip looked. He shut the door and talked to them for nearly an hour. When he was done, he gave them the choice of going through with his plan, or letting Bruce have the case. Jessica and Chet were both a little stunned. Neither agent had ever heard of Trip going out of his way for agents like he was offering to. They both agreed to go along with Trip. Trip asked them if they were absolutely sure about this, because once they went down this road, there was no coming back. Chet said they had nothing left to lose, and Jessica agreed. They both watched as Trip called Bruce into Trip’s office and wondered if their careers as agents were essentially over.
Chapter 25
Bruce was a little concerned about meeting with Trip. He had just received the strangest phone call from a secret service agent. The agent wanted to know about Bruce’s relationship with his father. Bruce told the agent the truth. Bruce and his father rarely spoke. Bruce couldn’t understand his father. He couldn’t understand why his father wasn’t more proud of him or parading him around the way he used to do with Fowler. The call didn’t last very long, and if Bruce didn’t know better it was almost like the secret service agent was vetting him for something. Bruce pushed it out of his mind as he arrived to the door of Trip’s office.
Bruce knocked on Trip’s door. He heard Trip shout “come in,” and entered. The first thing he noticed was both Jessica and Chet seated, looking very anxious. Trip was smiling and offered Bruce a seat.
“Bruce, thanks for coming by,” said Trip. “Washington has called, and they want you to take over the multiple homicide investigation that Jessica and Chet have been working on.”
Bruce wasn’t happy. He knew this case was cold and would be next to impossible to solve. He was thinking up several objections when Trip spoke again.
“Washington believes this is a very high profile case. Bruce, this one is probably a career maker. Of course these agents,” Trip said gesturing with his hand toward Chet and Jessica. “They will both hand over any evidence they have found, plus any John may have found in his trip to Vermont.” Bruce was beaming inside. He was going to take John’s case away from him and
the evidence.
“If that’s what Washington wants, then of course I’ll be glad to,” said Bruce. He noticed that suddenly Jessica and Chet were both very relieved. Bruce was suddenly a little confused. He had heard through the grapevine if these two didn’t solve this case that they were done. The case had been snatched away from them and now they were happy. What was going on? He was even more surprised when both Jessica and Chet shook his hand and gratefully thanked him. They both asked to be excused. Bruce noticed as the two walked down the hall that they exchanged high fives. Bruce couldn’t help but wonder what was going on here?
Chapter 26
Bruce watched the two walk down the hall obviously happy about the news Trip had just delivered. Did these two really care so little about their FBI careers? Bruce looked back at Trip extremely confused. Trip was busy working on files and looked up at Bruce.
“That’s all I had, Bruce, if you don’t mind I have a lot of paperwork here to get through,” said Trip.
“Sir, may I ask you something?”
“Of course, Bruce,” said Trip while shuffling through case files.
“Sir, I’m not sure how to put this so I’ll just be blunt.” Trip sat back, looking amused. “Sir, this was supposed to be their last case if they couldn’t solve it. Those two just looked relieved. Did their careers really mean so little to them?”
Trip slowly stood up, anger building inside of him. “Bruce, they were told by Washington to give up the case. I assume they’ll be given one more chance since someone went over their head. You wouldn’t know anything about this would you?” Trip looked furious. “Which I really hope you do!” Trip was nearly sneering now. “Those two agents have been breaking their backs on this case and have found next to nothing, so it would serve you right if you couldn’t solve it!” Bruce had his hands in front of him like he was trying to keep Trip at bay.
