“Joel Schwartz. He has a home up here, near my cabin. I found him a little while ago, and he is happy to talk to you. Would you like to talk to him now? I can put him on right now, if you want.”
“He’s there with you now?”
“Yes, of course. I’m at his house.”
“I see. Well, the thing is, Bob, something like this needs to be done in person. You can understand I can’t take some person’s word for it over the phone. That would never clear you of anything. I will need to meet him and see him in person. He’ll need to sign some papers, as well.”
“Sure. I understand. He said he can come down today and meet with you.”
“Have you spoken with Detective Stein yet?”
“No, I don’t have his number with me.”
“No problem, Bob. I’ll inform him shortly of the good news. Listen, we want to clear this up for you as soon as possible, and I’m already on the west side of town. Rather than have Mr. Schwartz drive down here, I can be there in the next hour or so, if I hurry.”
“Okay. Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course. We can have him sign an affidavit and be done with all this. Can you bring him to your cabin and wait there for me?”
“Sure.”
“Perfect. Give me directions to your house, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Baird tossed a pen and pad back to Julia. As Bob gave him the directions, he repeated them back out loud so that Julia could write them down. He wasn’t taking any more chances. More importantly, with directions in hand, he didn’t need Tina anymore.
“Perfect. Just relax and make sure Joel is with you when we arrive. This is great news, Bob. Congratulations. Anyone else there with you?”
“No. Just Joel and I.”
“Okay. No problem, Bob. I’ll be there as quick as I can.” He disconnected the call. “Yes!” he exclaimed. The worm had turned, as they say. Things were shifting back in his favor.
Hearing the call sent Tina’s emotions into high gear. She was still bound and gagged and unable to warn Bob. She imagined the impending scene at the cabin, and it wasn’t pleasant. She had hoped they would need her to direct them to the cabin, and, with any luck, she could either escape or alert someone to help them at some point. Now, with directions in hand, she realized the detective might not need her anymore. She had no illusions about their ultimate plan for her or Bob, but she decided she wasn’t going down without a fight. She needed a plan. And with a little luck, she could survive until they reached the cabin. She let out a low moan that earned her a quick jab from Julia’s knife—only this time, it went deeper and stayed a little longer. As blood started to flow, Tina let out a loud moan and started to kick her feet violently.
“What’s going on back there?” asked Baird.
“Nothing,” replied Julia sheepishly.
Baird tried to crane his head back far enough to see what was going on. He could see a round blood stain expanding on the blanket that covered Tina. “Dammit, Julia, you’re ruining my car. I can’t have blood all over the seats.” He slammed his hands on the steering wheel. “Stop it. And clean that up.”
“With what?”
“Fuck. Use the blanket and keep the blood off the upholstery. And quit doing that. We might still need her alive.”
“For what?”
“Just fucking listen to me for a change. We might need her, so I need you to not kill her.”
“Fine.” She pulled the blanket off Tina, then tried to stop the bleeding and sop it up before it got on the seat. Tina could now see Julia and glared at her with a seething hatred and desire for revenge of her own.
“What are you staring at, bitch?” snarled Julia. “You better look away, or I’m going to gouge your eyes out.” She brought the knife up to Tina’s eyes to prove she meant the threat.
Tina averted her eyes away from the woman.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“To see what is in front of one’s nose needs a constant struggle.”
—George Orwell
At the other end of the call, Jackson was ecstatic. All his earlier pessimism and fears of doom had given way to optimism. With his alibi established, he would be able to focus his attention on who might be framing him and why.
He decided to call George to share the good news, but there was no answer. No matter, he thought, as he left a detailed message bringing George up to date on the recent developments. But as he left the message, something struck him as odd. Something about Detective Baird wasn’t right. Baird had been so quick to suspect him. How could he suddenly just change course? He didn’t trust him, and he’d never really liked him, either. As an afterthought, as he left the message, he asked George to make contact with Detective Stein and inform him about the witness.
When he had completed his calls, Jackson told Joel that the detective was going to meet them at his cabin and take his statement, and that they should probably walk over soon so that they would be there when he arrived. Jackson suggested they could have a beer or two while they waited. Joan decided she would stay behind and meet up with them later for dinner, and that, since they were walking over, they should take Amber with them. Amber was elated to hear she was going for a walk, and as soon as the door was open, she bounded out, ready to lead the way.
****
While Bob Jackson was escorting Joel and Amber back to his cabin, Justin McGraw and George were having a beer with Detective Stein and discussing some new information that Justin had recently discovered. Justin had tried reaching out to Jackson, but when he was unable to reach him, he’d called George instead. Thinking he might have something that might help the investigation, he’d called Detective Stein into the meeting, as well.
“I felt bad for Bob, the way the city was turning on him,” he told George and Stein. “I think my articles might have played a part in it. I was trying to be fair, but the way evidence was pouring in, it made Bob look guilty. Seems like it started a groundswell of negativity. Between the radio shows and social media, I just think it got out of hand.”
“Believe me, Justin; Bob and I are both appalled by everything that has gone down. And if the Revengers were really picking people off the show, we are devastated.”
“So, here’s the thing: I saw how the police were digging in, looking at Bob, but it just didn’t feel right to me.”
“I’ve had my doubts, as well,” agreed Stein. “But tell me why you did.”
“I’m not a detective or even much of a crime reporter, so this was all just wild-ass conjecture on my part. So, I asked myself, what if Bob isn’t the killer? Who would go to all this trouble to make Bob look bad? It only made sense to look at his history.”
“Bob’s history?” asked George.
“Yes. So, since I have access to news archives, I started to do some digging. A few years ago, a local contractor committed suicide. Drove off a mountain outside of town. No one really thought much of it at the time, but there was a small mention in one of the papers about the family accusing Bob of harassing him unfairly. The accusations didn’t go anywhere. From my research, I can’t find much else about it, which is probably why Bob hasn’t thought of this incident yet.”
“So, how does that fit with this?” asked George.
“What if the family is behind all this?”
“A bit of a stretch,” said Stein, but in reality, he had wondered something similar. In fact, he’d had some new information that concerned him, but he wasn’t about to share it with a reporter just yet. Stein didn’t know Baird was racing up and down the mountain, but while he was, Stein had been investigating his own theory. He had gone into the police station’s evidence room and checked the logs showing who had gone in and out, and who might have checked out any evidence. Seeing Detective Baird’s name had sent up a red flag. Although it wouldn’t have been unusual for a detective to enter the room, it made no sense for Baird to have done so. He was a rookie detective, and this was his first case. There was no reason for him to be in there. And
although the logs didn’t show that he or anyone else had officially checked out any taser gun evidence, there was one missing.
“Is it really a stretch?” asked Justin. “The family claims that Ray Baird was despondent about losing his reputation and his business.”
“Wait. Who?” asked Stein.
“Yep. You heard me right. Ray Baird.”
“Isn’t Baird the name of the detective you are working with?” asked George.
George’s cell phone rang, but he was so enthralled by this new discovery, he ignored the call.
“What else can you tell us, Justin?” asked Stein.
“I confirmed that Ray Baird and your rookie detective are related. Ray was Chris’ uncle.”
“Shit.” Stein was floored. He started to put it all together. Baird had been in the evidence room, and a taser was missing. A taser that might have been used in at least one of the murders. Couple that with Baird’s determination to charge Jackson for murder from Day One, and it all started to come together. Baird had motive, and it fit with the narrative that Stein had been coming up with. But he wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. Could Justin be wrong about the relationship?
He stepped into the kitchen and called HR. He wanted them to verify whether Baird was related to a Ray Baird who’d died in a car crash a few years ago. They agreed to check and call back as soon as they could confirm.
Then, he called Detective Baird. No answer. Stein chose to leave a message saying nothing other than to call him back immediately.
While Detective Stein was making his calls, George retrieved his phone message. Jackson had called and left him a message. He had found his alibi and was waiting to meet with Detective Baird. He asked George to contact Detective Stein with the news.
“Shit!” exclaimed George as he ran to get Stein. “That call I missed was from Bob. He’s up at Grand Lake now and found his witness to verify his whereabouts during the murders. He told Detective Baird and asked me to make sure you heard about it. He also said the detective was on his way up there to take a statement from the witness.”
“Shit,” said Stein. Things were moving too fast. If Justin was right about Baird, then both Jackson and his witness were in danger. It all made sense. Baird was playing out the revenge motive, and who else but a cop could stage so many crimes without leaving damaging clues? It still didn’t tell him who Baird’s accomplice was, but it didn’t matter. He had to get up there—and fast—to prevent more murders from happening.
“Can you call Bob back?”
“Caller ID says ‘Joel Schwartz’. I’ll call now.” George hit redial. The phone rang, unanswered. He tried again. Same result. On the other end of the line, no one was home. Joan had followed Joel and Jackson out the door to do some shopping in town.
“No answer,” George reported.
“Doesn’t Bob have a cell phone?”
“He does, Detective, but they don’t work at his cabin. It’s in an area by the lake without cell reception.”
Stein tried Detective Baird again with no luck. He wasn’t sure what he would say if he answered, but he had to try.
“Damnit. He’s not answering.” Slight doubt rose in Stein’s head. Could he be jumping to conclusions? Where was Baird? “I need to get up there,” said Stein. “How long does it take to get to his cabin?”
“Takes me about two hours,” replied George. “You could probably get there in less time.”
Stein’s cell rang, and he answered immediately. Justin and George watched in anxious anticipation. Finally, Stein responded. “Send a couple officers to Bob Jackson’s house in Denver, just in case he comes back there. Have them call me once they have secured the house. Also, I want an APB out for Detective Chris Baird.”
He hoped that wasn’t a mistake. If he was wrong, he might damage Baird’s career, but he would definitely be putting an end to his own.
He closed the call and turned to Justin and George. “I need to get up to that cabin ASAP. You said Bob’s message was that Baird was going up there, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. How do I get there?”
“Let me come with you, Detective,” George volunteered. “I’ve been there dozens of times, but even if I draw you a map, you could easily get lost.”
Stein considered the offer. He wasn’t entirely sure it was safe. If Baird was one of the Revengers, he was homicidal, and risking a civilian wouldn’t exactly look good on his record. On the other hand, time was of the essence. He still wasn’t entirely sure of his new theory, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He was going to call the local sheriff for backup, but he didn’t want them moving in until he arrived. Stein was hoping he could confront Baird first and possibly defuse what could become a serious situation.
“Okay. Come with me. I’ll have you get me close to the house, but then, I want you out of the car before I pull up. I don’t want to spook him, and I don’t want you in any danger if this goes bad.”
“I want to go, too,” said Justin. “Before you say no, let me say that you did promise me the story early on, and I promise that I’ll stay back. When you drop off George, he can come back with me.”
Stein considered the idea, and, against his better judgement, agreed to the plan. “Let’s roll.”
On the way up the mountain, Stein had his dispatcher patch him through to the sheriff’s office in Grand Lake. “This is Detective Jake Stein from the Denver PD. We may have a situation in your county brewing.” He explained that he didn’t have an exact address but knew the turn-off to the general area. He didn’t want them to approach the cabin before he got there, but he wanted them to back him up when he did get there. They agreed to meet at the end of town and follow him in. He estimated that he would get there in under ninety minutes.
As they raced through Denver and up the mountain, Stein kept second-guessing himself. Should he have the Grand Lake sheriff move in now? If Baird was one of the Revengers, he was sure it would go bad quickly. But did it matter? Would it go south anyway? What were the chances that Stein could talk him down before anyone got hurt? And would they be there in time? Assuming Jackson had called George right after his call with Baird, then Baird only had a slight head start on them. Time would be of the essence if he was going to defuse the situation. If, in fact, Baird was an Revenger, then it made sense that he would be looking to eliminate Jackson’s witness.
Stein pushed down harder on the gas pedal, then put his red police light on the roof and turned it on.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Anger is momentary madness, so control your passion or it will control you.”
—Horace
“Jesus. Now, what the fuck?” screamed Baird as he slowed down to a crawl behind an RV towing a small car. They were coming down the back side of Berthoud Pass and were about to enter the Winter Park Resort area when the traffic stopped. Fifteen cars ahead of them was a road construction worker holding a red stop sign. He had stopped traffic coming into town and was directing cars heading out of town forward. Cars heading up the mountain were moving incredibly slowly. Baird pounded on the steering wheel.
Julia leaned forward. “You’re a cop. Why don’t you just put your light on and go around them? Tell them you’re on official police business.”
He shook his head, amazed at her stupidity. “A bad idea for so many reasons,” he replied. “For one thing, how am I going to get around these cars? It’s too narrow. And besides that, we have her in the backseat. The last thing I want to do is draw attention to us. Make sure she stays quiet and keep that blanket over her.”
“Oh, she’ll stay quiet if she knows what’s good for her.” To drive her point home to Tina, she stabbed her in the side with the knife, and then made sure she was fully covered with the blanket. “Why didn’t we just wait until he returned to Denver?” she asked.
“He found his alibi. Don’t you get it? That would take him off the hook.”
“So? He’s already miserable. Now, we’ve shown our hand. I h
ave a bad feeling about this.” She didn’t want to say it in front of Tina, but what she really thought was that they should have just killed Bob weeks ago. This whole production was getting out of hand.
“We’ll be fine as long as no one panics. We’ll stick to the plan. Just stay calm and keep her quiet.”
Baird himself was far from calm. He wanted to show Julia he was in control of the situation, but in reality, he was nervous. After months—even years—of planning and dreaming, it was all about to come to an end. But the funny thing was, that was little comfort. He was nervous and had a sense of foreboding that something was going to go wrong. And when it was over, could he just resume his career path? It was looking like he could be a successful detective. Had he covered his tracks sufficiently, though? Once Bob Jackson suffered the ultimate punishment, would it be over? He was sure of one thing, though: Bob Jackson had suffered, and his Uncle Ray would have been thrilled with what he and Julia had accomplished. Even sweeter was that Jackson actually thought the ordeal was about to come to an end, and he would be vindicated. Knowing that Jackson’s relief would be short-lived brought extra satisfaction to Baird. He couldn’t wait to see Jackson’s face when the realization set in, and he delivered the final blow to snuff out his life.
Baird still had issues to contend with, though. Some of his earlier plans had to be adjusted, and now, new explanations had to be created. Without a plausible story, the police might not close the investigation. That was risky.
He imagined a scenario of murder and suicide with the “alibi” caught in the middle somehow. Details. He was brilliant, and he would work out a credible plan before he arrived at the cabin. His confidence had a setback, but now, he was riding high again. He had fooled the great Detective Stein, and he believed he would do it again.
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