Night Justice

by Diane Capri

  Chief Hathaway had not arrived, and I had no idea when he would. Secluded in this back room, with the noise from the party outside and my own raging pulse all but deafening in my ears, I couldn’t detect the sound of approaching sirens, even if there were any.

  I was on my own.

  “Let me go, Mitch.” To my surprise, my voice sounded much stronger than I felt, steady and in command, even over the chest-thumping bass of the music vibrating the entire building.

  My best bet was to pretend that Bradford was already dead. If they perceived his threat gone, they might be more inclined to let me go. Rogers wasn’t a psychopath, as far as I knew. He’d killed because he’d seen no other escape.

  Kelly Webb’s psychology was unknown. I didn’t have a read on her.

  “Listen, Mitch. I know about the child pornography, too. I know how desperate you were to keep that information from going public. But killing me won’t help you. Just the opposite. I’m a federal judge.” At least for the time being. “Let me go, and I might be able to help you work all this out.”

  If I got out of this alive, I wouldn’t help him work anything out, of course. I’d take what information I had and go straight to the police. And later, I’d share it with CJ and the special committee.

  I struggled to stand, slowly, my legs unsteady.

  “…do you?” Mitch asked, and I realized he’d been talking.

  My mind stuttered, trying to catch up with whatever he’d said that I hadn’t heard. “I’m sorry?”

  He gave me a look that made me wonder if he’d already figured out my plan. “You think you’re such an expert in doling out justice, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “But what if you’re not? I’ve given away millions to charity, done good deeds all over this world. I’m Mr. Family Friendly. People love me. How is erasing all that ‘justice’? All over one stupid mistake.”

  “Not one mistake, Mitch,” I said as calmly as I could. “The porn was just the beginning.”

  “Yeah?” He reached fast for Kelly’s arm, yanking her in front of him and pressing the sharp knife blade to her throat.

  At first, she laughed, seeming to think it was a joke, but I could tell from the stricken, desperate look on Rogers’s face that his intentions were not funny at all. Kelly’s good humor faded as he caressed her face with the blade, tracing the flat side of it down her cheek until the tip rested under her chin. A smear of ketchup from his dinner, or Kelly’s blood, left a dark trail on her pale skin.

  She whimpered, like the mewl of a kitten, and met my gaze, confused and scared now.

  My throat constricted, and I forced words past tight vocal cords. “Don’t. Please. Killing Kelly won’t solve your problems. It will only make them worse.”

  “I can’t go to prison,” he said, pressing the knife tighter to her neck. Kelly clutched his forearm tight, digging her nails into Mitch’s skin. He flinched but didn’t let her go. “I won’t.”

  “Let Kelly go,” I pleaded, holding my hands up, palms out. “Let her go, and we can work a deal. Negotiate. You’re used to that in baseball, right, Mitch? Bargaining. Maybe you could give us the name of the dealer you bought the toxic heroin from in Philadelphia. That would be a sign of cooperation. And if the child porn was your first offense, then you can negotiate that, too.”

  None of that was true. He’d either killed or conspired to kill two people. Three, if Tom Bradford didn’t get help soon. Bradford was still lying at my feet, his eyes flickering behind his lids, his complexion growing more mottled by the second. Images of Evan Hayden from the night of the accident swirled through my overtaxed mind.

  Rogers chuckled, a mirthless sound. “Just let Kelly go, huh? That’s all I have to do?”

  “Please.”

  Hardness descended over his features. “I can’t do that. You are the last two people who know the truth. If I don’t get rid of you, then I’ll lose everything. There’ll be no leniency, not for me. I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen what happens to people like me who go bad. They’ll take it all from me.” He tightened his grip on Kelly, and she scrabbled to keep her feet on the ground.

  My options were draining fast. With the party in full swing, it was unlikely anyone knew we were back here. Rogers could kill us all and leave by the back exit to the alley before anyone knew what he’d done. He’d disappear forever.

  Where the hell was Hathaway? Cops. Never around when you need them, but commit a minor traffic infraction and they were there to slap you with a ticket in a hot second.

  “You never asked me how I got Hayden in front of your car that night,” Rogers said.

  His words stopped me cold. He was setting some sort of trap. I could hear it in the tone of his voice, the slight sneer of each word.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know before you die?” His countenance had shifted now, from relaxed and smiling to cold and cunning. Maybe I’d been wrong about that whole psychopath thing.

  Still, I had to keep him occupied until he made a mistake I could exploit. Or until Hathaway showed up. Whichever came first. “Yes.”

  “Then ask.”

  It was a stupid game, one designed to give Rogers the satisfaction of being in control, however temporary. I’d had enough experience with bullheaded, arrogant people over the years to recognize it. Unfortunately, in this case, I had little choice but to play.

  Fine.

  I squared my shoulders and bit out the question. “How did you get Evan Hayden in front of my car that night?”

  “I had old Tom here poison his drink at that office party. He dragged Evan out the back.” Rogers cocked his head toward the other side of the room and the red glowing sign proclaiming Exit. “Tom drove him over to Bayshore and dragged him across the road. Shoved him out in front of your car. If you weren’t such a workaholic, you would have been home hours earlier. Could have been anybody behind the wheel. You just got lucky.”

  Lucky was the farthest thing from how I felt. “So, you paid Bradford to kill Hayden. Why? What did Hayden ever do to you?”

  “Didn’t cost me anything, actually. Well, unless you count the heroin.” Rogers grinned, a sinister affair. “Tom couldn’t stand Evan. Said it was a pleasure to wipe him off the face of the earth. Honestly, I think I’m about the only person who could stomach Evan at all.”

  “What about Cindy Allen?” That was the one piece I’d never been able to connect. “I thought she was your friend.”

  “She was,” Rogers said, a hint of remorse straining his tone. “But then she and Evan started dating, and things got more serious than I’d intended. I couldn’t take the chance that he’d told her about the porn and that she’d go to the police with it. I never wanted to kill Cindy, but it had to be done. Tom took care of it while I was busy. Gave me a solid alibi.”

  “And Kelly, how did she get involved?”

  Kelly’s eyes met mine over the top of his tree-trunk-sized forearm. Tears welled in her eyes, along with remorse, but she’d made her bed—both with Rogers and his murders. Now she’d have to deal with the fallout from those decisions. I just prayed it wouldn’t be fatal for either of us.

  “Oh, she was all too happy to hop on board once she took over my account and saw how much I was worth to her.” Rogers gave a derisive snort. “Funny, but they never tell you that part about being rich and famous. That the more you earn, the more people will want to take everything you’ve got. She hated Evan, too, of course, but the child porn was a bit trickier. She was willing to look the other way when I promised her I’d downloaded the porn by mistake. Potential million-dollar commissions in her pockets covered a multitude of sins.”

  I averted my eyes, tension and nausea making me lightheaded. “What about your wife? Your children?”

  “They’ll get everything when I’m gone. I’ve already got it set up through Kelly here.” He squeezed her neck a little tighter, and her eyes bulged. “A contingency plan. I can’t make them sit through a public trial. My wife can’t sit there and listen
to people list all my horrible sins. I can’t go to prison and lose everything I love because of you and your precious judicial system. I can’t.”

  “Mitch, please.” I tried one last time to get through to him. “You can’t do this.”

  “Sure I can. I’m a star. I can do whatever I want.” He pressed the knife harder against Kelly’s throat, and she whimpered again, louder this time.

  My stomach clenched. I had to do something. Given his current state of mind, he’d kill Kelly right in front of my eyes if I failed. While I watched, the tip of the blade pricked Kelly’s skin again, and another drop of crimson welled. Her struggles increased.

  “Say it,” Rogers growled, “Or I’ll slit her throat. You know I will.”

  Through clenched teeth, I echoed, “You can do whatever you want.”

  As soon as the words left my lips, the music on the pub’s sound system screeched to an ear-splitting halt. My breath rasped loudly in the suddenly quiet room, mixed with Kelly’s crying.

  I checked once more to be sure I had no means of escape. No portals had magically opened up in the past thirty seconds.

  I returned my focus to Rogers, knowing that help had finally arrived. “The police are here now. It’s over.”

  “No chance. They can’t get back here in time to save you.” He shook his head, and his macabre grin showed off his straight, white teeth. “Kelly here’s a goner already.”

  He pressed the knife tip further into her skin, and more blood flowed.

  Kelly screamed and struggled to get away, but his grip held her with no effort at all.

  A knot clogged my throat. I forced myself to breathe, to think. Chief Hathaway was out there somewhere beyond the door. He had to be. Why else would the music have stopped?

  “First Kelly, then you.”

  “I never did anything to you, Mitch,” I said, somehow finding a remnant of strength to force into my voice.

  “And you gave me a solid cover for the murder of Evan Hayden. Thank you for that, Judge Carson.” He snorted. “I hope you enjoy your unemployment.”

  “So that’s it, then?” I fisted and unfisted my hands.

  “That’s it.”

  “No, it isn’t.” I took a quick step toward the door, hoping to throw him off balance. Or at least stall him until I could think of something better. Anything. But my mind was racing.

  The sound of a booming bullhorn came through. “This is Tampa Police. Put down your weapon. Step out, Mr. Rogers, with your hands up.”

  Rogers kept silent, the knife still poised at Kelly’s throat, his attention drilling a hole through the closed door. The fluorescent light above us flickered—once, twice—then went out, leaving the room bathed only in the red light from the exit sign.

  “It was one mistake,” Rogers whispered. “I can’t lose everything I’ve built over one stupid mistake.”

  He headed for the back exit, dragging Kelly along with him.

  Rogers tripped over Bradford’s legs.

  Kelly bobbled and then fell to her knees.

  I charged forward to cover her trembling body with my own.

  “Rogers, the alley exit is blocked. You can’t escape. I’m counting from ten. Then we’re coming in,” Ben’s amplified voice shouted from inside the pub. “Ten. Nine. Eight.”

  Above me, Rogers raised the knife, his face bathed in crimson shadows.

  “Don’t move,” he said.

  “Seven. Six. Five.” Numbers continued to boom from the other side of the door. “Four. Three.”

  “I can’t go to prison.” Rogers straightened, the knife clutched tightly in his hand as he raised the blade, this time toward his own abdomen. “I can’t.”

  “Two. One.”

  All hell broke loose moments later. There was a pained grunt from Rogers as he drove the blade deep into his own gut. At the same time, the doors burst open, and officers raced in, poised to kill.

  I kept low on the floor, protecting Kelly, as the cops swarmed. She clung to me like a scared child—trembling, her breath coming hard and fast. I couldn’t really hear anything over the cacophony of screaming patrons inside the bar and police shouts for assistance outside.

  Kelly’s sobs wracked her body. I felt some strange, misguided protective instinct toward her after what we’d just been through together.

  I bent to whisper close to her ear, “Come on, Kelly. We have to get up. The police are here now. You have to get up.”

  Blood streaked her neck and cheek as she raised her face to me. “I-I’m s-sorry. Mitch s-said h-he loved me. He s-said w-we’d run away together when this was done, and I’m such an idiot, I believed him.”

  “Willa, are you okay?” Ben asked, kneeling down beside me.

  “I’m fine. But Kelly needs help. Bradford, too.”

  Medics arrived, and I directed them toward Bradford, saying, “He’s ingested toxic heroin. Maybe fifteen to twenty minutes ago.”

  They rushed to get him on a gurney and into the ambulance. I hoped he’d make it. If the antidote was administered soon, he could. I crossed my fingers for him.

  Another pair of medics moved to deal with a groaning, bleeding Mitch Rogers. Apparently, his aim was off. From what I could hear the medics saying, he’d plunged the steak knife where the wound wasn’t fatal.

  Guess he’d be spending that time in prison after all. Unless some well-paid lawyer worked a miracle. I’d seen it happen before and Rogers certainly had the money to hire the best.

  I squinted in the bright light now streaming in through the smashed door. “Took you long enough to get in here, though.”

  “Everybody’s a critic.” Ben shook his head. But he smiled and gave my arm a solid squeeze.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Thursday, November 24

  3:17 a.m.

  Hours later, after I’d been checked by the medics and interviewed by the police, I found myself in the passenger seat of Ben Hathaway’s sedan, heading home at last. The scent of his hot coffee in the cup holder between us filled the air, and the digital clock on his dashboard said it was well after three a.m.

  The bay lapped gently at the shore as we turned onto the Plant Key Bridge. Ben kept his focus straight forward, his fingers tapping lightly against the wheel to a tune only he could hear.

  Finally, he said, “Rogers struck out. The docs at Tampa Southern say he’ll live.”

  “Too bad for him. He’ll spend the rest of his life in prison.”

  Ben looked as exhausted as I felt, but he managed a tired smile. “Kelly’s going to be fine, too. She’s already got a good lawyer lined up. He’ll agree that she’ll testify against Rogers in exchange for a lighter sentence. Maybe even probation.”

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, so I nodded.

  “Rogers is lawyered up already, too. Naturally. He may get some leniency because of his motives. But he won’t get away with murder.” Ben lowered his window a bit, allowing the fresh breeze inside.

  “What motives are you talking about?” I glanced at him to be sure he wasn’t joking. “Rogers was into child porn. He killed three people to keep that quiet. Why should he get any leniency for that?”

  I shivered, mostly from the cold breeze blowing through his open window. The temperatures were chillier than normal for this late in the autumn, but I imagined he needed all the help he could get to stay awake. I didn’t complain.

  “When George called tonight, he told me what you said about the porn, and we checked it out. Just got the final word about an hour ago.” Ben shot me a meaningful look. “Mitch Rogers didn’t download the porn. His son did.”

  I gasped. “How do you know?”

  “We have a lot of tools trained on that filth these days. We found the IP address easily once we knew what we were looking for. The porn was downloaded to the son’s laptop. His mother found it.” Ben paused and took a deep breath. “It wasn’t Mitch Rogers the baseball player that Hayden was blackmailing. It was Genevieve Rogers. She paid him off to protect her son.�
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  I shook my head. “Wow. So you’re saying Rogers killed three people to protect his family?”

  “You’re almost there, but not quite.” Ben sighed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s complicated. But the short version is that Genevieve is the one who paid Bradford to kill Hayden. Mitch didn’t know about it until after the fact. Cindy Allen told him. Remember Mitch said his wife and Allen went to yoga classes together?”

  I thought about this new data for a few seconds while Ben made his way closer to Minaret. After he dropped me off, I wouldn’t have another chance to talk to him for a few days, probably.

  “So what will happen to all of them?”

  “They’ve all been picked up. We’ll sort out who did what to whom, but in the eyes of the law, they’re all guilty. You know that,” Ben said.

  “Right.” Not a very brilliant response, but it was the best I could do at the moment.

  “And you’ll be glad to know you’ve been officially cleared in the death of Charles Evan Hayden. Sorry we couldn’t do it sooner, but now that we have, that should also wrap things up with Ozgood Richardson and that review board. Right?”

  “Special investigative committee,” I corrected with a grin. He was trying to make me feel better. It wasn’t his fault that I didn’t.

  He shrugged. “Whatever they call it, you’re gonna be okay?”

  “That should go a long way toward helping me keep my job.” I glanced over at him. “Thank you, Ben.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, not meeting my gaze. But his words were sincere, and that was all I needed. “Just try to stay out of trouble from now on, okay? You keep sticking your neck out the way you have been, and one day someone’s likely to come along and whack your head off.”

  “I’d really like to stay out of trouble.” I sighed.

  I never went looking for trouble. Even so, trouble seemed to find me. There’d be another case, another lost cause, and somehow I’d be drawn into trouble again. Which was exactly what irritated CJ.