Hard to Kill

by C. M. Sutter

  Lutz sat at the picnic table next to Hanna. “Sorry about my outburst. It was unprofessional.” He reached down and petted Bandit behind the ears. “I know we could have results on those prints a lot faster in Cook County than the state crime lab can. It’s the red tape and politics that drive me crazy.”

  Minutes later, Frank joined them and took a seat on Lutz’s left side. “Okay, I spoke with Kip.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s pretty much what we thought, although they only got through to twelve of those seventeen men. So far, none of them know anything about renting a black Corolla and leaving it here.”

  “They could be lying,” Hanna said.

  “Possibly, but we can track down the credit card used and match it to one of those men if somebody really is lying.”

  “Okay, let’s get packed up. There isn’t anything else for us to do here.”

  “What about the rental car?” Frank asked.

  “The car isn’t important to us, only the prints left behind are. The rental company can figure that out on their own, and if they do track their vehicles, they don’t need the physical car in front of them to see where it’s been. I know one thing for sure, and that’s the fact that Jesse isn’t here. Let’s head to Decatur. We’ll touch base with Henry and Shawn as we drive.” Lutz gave Hanna a reassuring pat on her shoulder. “I’ll help you pack up the campsite. Let’s get out of here and go find Jesse.”

  After loading the car with the camping gear and securing Jesse’s canoe to the top, they exchanged cards with the sergeant, Owens, and the forensic guys, thanked them for all the help, and headed out. The drive to Decatur would take more than three hours with a pit stop mixed in.

  Once they got back onto I-57, Lutz checked the time. The instrument cluster showed it was 4:47. They wouldn’t arrive in Decatur until eight o’clock at the earliest, and Detective Chesson would likely be long gone. Either way, Lutz would have Henry and Shawn find somebody in charge who would grant him an interview with Leon Stanley.

  The most direct route, even though it went through small towns, would be to take I-57 north to Mount Vernon, cut west on I-64, and then north again on Old Highway 51 until they reached Decatur. The three settled in for the drive—Lutz behind the wheel, Frank in the passenger seat, and Hanna in the back with Bandit resting his head on her lap.

  Hanna leaned forward between the seats. “Maybe I should call my mom and tell her what’s going on. She’s probably wondering why I haven’t sent any vacation pictures. Of course, I’d have to use your phone, Frank, if you don’t mind.”

  Lutz spoke up. “Hold off on that for now, Hanna. We have to keep this situation as close to the vest as possible, and even though it’s your mom, we can’t afford to have any leaks. She is Dean’s cousin, and if she tells him and he starts to panic, news might spread. Sorry, but we can’t let that happen just yet.”

  “I suppose you’re right, and if she has tried calling me, she might chalk it up to bad phone service at the park.”

  Frank looked over his shoulder at her and nodded. “Which isn’t a lie. Better left that way for the time being.”

  Lutz’s phone rang at six thirty. He gave it a glance before handing it to Frank to answer. “Put it on Speakerphone. It’s Henry.”

  “What have you got, Johnson? Lutz is driving, so I have you on Speakerphone.”

  “We talked to Leon’s brother, Pete, who lives about seven miles out of Decatur. He’s no saint, that’s a fact, and didn’t appreciate us showing up. He definitely wasn’t forthcoming either. About as tight-lipped as they come. The sister, who lives on the east side of town, was the same—no information offered. The neighbors on both sides of Leon’s house said they keep their distance, never engage with him, and noted that the police have been called to the house for domestic issues multiple times.”

  Lutz huffed. “Same thing Detective Chesson told us. Apparently, they know Leon well, but the wife never pressed charges against him even though he beat her regularly.”

  “Yeah, a messed-up situation for sure, and in the end, she paid the price with her life.”

  “And he will, too, as a lifer behind bars,” Frank said.

  “So we have a little more information than we had before. Unless the guy with the black Corolla is nothing other than a weirdo kleptomaniac who hangs out in campgrounds so he can steal campers’ belongings, we think he could be Leon’s accomplice. We found spoiled food in his trunk, and Hanna verified that it was what she and Jesse brought along in their cooler.”

  Shawn spoke up. “What the—”

  “Exactly our thoughts, too, Potter. The theory of a two-man team makes sense if he took Hanna’s SUV and left behind the Corolla he rented with a fake ID.”

  “Yet there hasn’t been a BOLO hit on the Explorer.”

  Frank chimed in. “It’s gotta be parked somewhere, and when we find out the mystery man’s name and address, we may find the SUV too.”

  Lutz took his turn. “Anyway, we’re about halfway there. I want you guys to clear the path to Leon Stanley for me. I’m going to interview him tonight, one way or another, so make that happen. I’ll call you back, Johnson, when we’re a half hour out.”

  “Copy that.”

  Frank clicked off the call and set Lutz’s phone in the cup holder.

  “We’ll need gas soon,” Lutz said as he passed a billboard showing a quick mart and gas station in Vandalia, eleven miles ahead. “We’ll fill up, hit the restrooms, let Bandit do his business, and be back on the road in ten minutes.”

  Chapter 29

  I couldn’t see the door open from where I was sitting, but the sound came from the side of the house where the garage door entered into the laundry room. If luck was on my side—and it apparently wasn’t—the next face I saw would belong to Hanna’s mom. But being a realist, I knew that I would be looking at Josh’s ugly mug any second.

  He turned the corner and grinned as he lifted the knife from the table. When he came at me, I was sure my time was up. Slipping the knife tip under the tape, and with a quick flick of his wrist, Josh sliced it and ripped it from my mouth. I winced when I tasted the blood forming on my lips.

  “Miss me?” He pressed the blade against my cheek.

  I jerked my head back. “Yeah, about as much as jock itch.”

  “Quite the comedian, aren’t you, McCord? You were cocking off when you handcuffed me all those years back too.”

  “You make it so easy. Here I was hoping the cops would have seen you enter my house.”

  Josh put the knife on the table then straddled the chair and snickered. “Guess you aren’t as important as you think you are. There wasn’t a soul around.” He glanced at the floor and pointed at the outlines he’d drawn in marker around the chair feet. “Looks like you tried to scoot, but it didn’t work out too well, did it?”

  We glared at each other, I assumed with equal amounts of hate. Josh walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinets then the refrigerator. He returned with a beer and an unopened bag of chips then resumed his position. Using his teeth as a lever, he popped the cap off the bottle.

  “Was that carnival trick supposed to impress me?”

  “Yep. I bet you’d love a beer and a handful of these chips right now, wouldn’t you?”

  I looked away and wasn’t about to let him know I was starving. I hadn’t eaten since early yesterday.

  “I have to admit, you’ve got a damn nice house, McCord.” He chuckled. “Sorry, I have to correct myself. You had a damn nice house, but not anymore.”

  I couldn’t show anger or any emotion at all. Not only was it a sign of weakness, but it would also give him the satisfaction he was looking for. It killed me to remain stoic, but he already had the upper hand, and I wasn’t about to give him more. I tried to tune him out, but that was my childhood home, the home I cherished and grew up in. It was the home that still contained many of my mother’s touches and family mementos. I had to slow my breathing—and my rage—or he’d see right through
my façade.

  “So when I got to the garage I almost shit myself—I mean, that Camaro is some car. I even started it and revved the engine. That was before I took the sledgehammer to it and demolished it. Oh, well, that’s what insurance is for, right? No, wait a minute, you’ll be dead, so who cares? I noticed that sweet family portrait hanging above the fireplace. I’m sure that teenage guy was you, and the girl?” He moaned and grabbed his crotch. “If only—but that’s right, she’s the sister that was murdered by her own husband. And you think I’m a loser? Jesus, dude. No matter, I shredded the portrait. As a matter of fact, just about everything in your house is toast.”

  I couldn’t hold back. “You piece of shit! You’re a pathetic excuse for a man and nothing but trash. Nobody cares if you live or die. I wish somebody would have killed you in prison, but even death is too good for you. If I could torture you myself, I would.”

  “Humph.” He filled his mouth with potato chips. “It looks like I hit a nerve.”

  Chapter 30

  Lutz pulled into the parking lot. They had finally arrived at the police department and, according to Henry, had clearance to interview Leon Stanley. From the conversation Henry had with Lieutenant Adams, they were sick and tired of dealing with him, anyway, and were happy to give somebody else a chance at him.

  Lutz led the way to the building while Frank texted Henry and asked exactly where they were. The response was that Henry and Shawn were headed their way.

  By the time they entered and signed in, Henry called out from the hallway.

  “This way, guys. The jail wing is downstairs, and the guard already has Stanley linked up in their interrogation room.” Henry tipped his head at Hanna. “You’ll have to stay in the waiting area. Sorry, but only law enforcement and attorneys can go beyond the visitation area.”

  She nodded. “That’s okay. I’ll probably go out in a bit and take Bandit for a walk.”

  Lutz handed his keys to her. “Then you’ll need these, and don’t go beyond the immediate area.”

  She smiled. “Yes, Dad.”

  Lutz and Frank continued down the hallway with Henry and Shawn.

  “Down here on the lower level,” Shawn said.

  The jail cells were typically on the lower level at most police departments that housed them at their station. That way, the offenders could be transferred right from the police car into the building through the secured garage.

  Henry introduced Lutz and Frank to the guard on duty, who walked them back to the interrogation room.

  “He’s a roid-raged monster, so keep your distance. Good luck.”

  They would finally meet Leon Stanley face-to-face, and Lutz had already turned a deep shade of red.

  Shawn shook his head. “Boss, I can physically see your blood pressure rising. Take a few calming breaths before we walk in. You don’t want to give him an edge, plus you have to maintain composure if you want to get anything out of him. Piss him off too much and he’ll clam up.”

  “And lawyer up,” Frank added.

  Lutz blew out the breath he seemed to be holding in. “You’re right. Give me a second. Better yet, let’s get eyes on him so we know what we’re dealing with.”

  They entered the observation room and saw a giant of a man sitting at the steel table facing them.

  “Holy shit.” Frank looked from his own biceps to Leon’s. “Hanna wasn’t kidding when she said Jesse told her he was huge. His arms are like tree branches, and look at those tats—prison ink if I’ve ever seen it.”

  Leon’s stringy blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, he wore ear gauges, and his fingers were as thick as hot dogs.

  Lutz jerked his chin at the window. “Can you imagine those fingers around your throat?”

  “No, but Jesse could.” Henry gave Lutz a glance. “You sure you want to take him on?”

  “Damn straight I do as long as that table pipe holds his cuffs. Let’s see what he has to say, and I’ll do the talking.”

  The commander and his three detectives walked into the room. Leon laughed loudly as if that amused him.

  “Damn it. You guys are an insult to law enforcement. It takes four of you to talk to me? You sure you aren’t wetting your pants right now?”

  Lutz took a seat across from him. “Brawn has nothing to do with brains. You’re stupider than a box of rocks if you think you’re ever going to see freedom again. You beat your wife and left her to die—which she did. That’s murder one in my playbook. And then you had the gall to kidnap my detective because your wife interrupted you when your hands were around his throat. So did you finish him off, or did your accomplice? Where’s his body, or are you holding him somewhere?”

  “Dude, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You on something?”

  Lutz slammed his hand on the table, making a loud crack.

  Leon laughed again. “Hell, if I did that, the table would have a permanent dent in it, but I’d use my fist like a real man would.” He looked Frank up and down. “What’s your story? Spend time in the pen, too, as big as you are?”

  Frank remained quiet.

  Lutz snapped his fingers in Leon’s face. “Hey, pay attention. I asked you where my detective was.”

  Leon shrugged. “Last time I saw him, he was tapping out.” Frank clenched his fists, and Leon noticed. “Getting to you, am I? Bet you’d like to kick my ass, wouldn’t you, tough guy?” He sneered at Frank. “Bring it. You’d be tapping out in seconds too.”

  “Pete give you a hand? Where’d he put the red Explorer and my detective?”

  “Pete? Now that’s funny. I don’t need my brother’s help.”

  Lutz pressed on. “Then who helped you?”

  “Like I said, I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, man.”

  “I have a lot of connections in the prison system. You look like the type of guy who would enjoy spending life at Florence, the most dangerous prison in America. Then of course, I’d make sure you were in gen pop. You’d be shanked upon arrival or soon after. People are crazy there and love to start shit with other inmates. You think you’re big? Try some of those guys on for size. You’d be their bitch in no time.”

  “Whatever. I’m not afraid of anyone.”

  “Good to know. I’ll make sure that’s the place you call home, then. I’m sure you’ll fit right in. That’s if you live through it.”

  Lutz pushed back his chair and walked out followed by Frank, Henry, and Shawn.

  “Now what?” Frank asked. “That piece of shit was really pushing my buttons.”

  “That was his plan. He’s not going to talk to us, and we can’t beat the information out of him.”

  Frank growled. “But I’d sure like to try.”

  “Come on. We’ve got to find out who rented that Corolla.”

  They returned to the parking lot just as Hanna and Bandit got to the car.

  Hanna gave the keys to Lutz. “We’re set to go whenever you guys are. Bandit’s good.”

  The commander leaned against his car. “I need to touch base with Tony first. Give me five minutes, and then we’ll decide what the next step should be.” After setting the phone on the hood of his car and tapping Tony’s number, Lutz pressed Speakerphone and waited.

  “Hey, Boss, what’s the word?”

  “Leon Stanley isn’t talking. Have you reached the last five guys named Mike Stiller?”

  “Yep. All dead ends.”

  “Okay, I want you to call the rental agency’s toll-free number again and find out exactly what location that car was picked up at. Since the man’s name and address were phony, we’ll need the exact location and time he picked up the car. Hopefully, there are cameras situated at each counter. Make sure you ask if they track their cars too.”

  “Got it. I’ll call you back as soon as I get that information.”

  “We’re going to hang out here overnight. If the rental agency is in this area, we’ll be hitting it first thing in the morning since there’s a chance the car was r
ented by Leon’s brother, Pete, who seems to be just as sketchy as Leon is. Henry and Shawn didn’t find anyone they’d consider friends of either brother.”

  After checking into a hotel that allowed dogs, the group sat in the lounge and discussed the next steps to take.

  “If the car was rented here in Decatur, we’ll likely have the accomplice’s face and identity by tomorrow morning,” Lutz said.

  Frank waved to get the server’s attention. “Can you get all of us a round of drinks and several platters of appetizers?”

  “Certainly, sir. Shall we start with the lady?”

  Hanna nodded. “Thanks, I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

  The waitress went around the table and wrote down all the drink requests before placing the orders for buffalo wings, quesadillas, wontons, and onion rings.

  Shawn waited until she walked away before talking. “And what if the car was rented somewhere else?”

  “Then we’ll go there and see if they have anything we can use. I’m not sure how rental agencies track their cars. I doubt if the tracking is ongoing since that infringes on people’s privacy, so maybe they’re only tracked if they aren’t returned when they’re supposed to be. If that’s the case, then the car will show up in Giant City—no help to us. It’s a wait-and-see situation unless Jesse or Hanna’s phones suddenly get turned on.”

  Frank huffed. “If only.”

  The waitress carried out a platter of drinks and said the food was on its way.

  Lutz slid the gin and tonic across the table to Hanna and noticed her somber expression. “Hanna, I know how difficult this is, but we’re doing the best we can with what we have to work with. Jesse’s a tough guy, and if there’s any way to stay alive, you can be sure he’s doing it.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. “But nothing is happening.”

  “And nothing happens much of the time, until it does. That’s when things move quickly. It’s called investigating, and that’s what cops do. We all wish we could snap our fingers and the missing person magically reappears, but that isn’t how real life works. We check everything there is to check, make calls, follow leads, interview people, air faces and descriptions on the news, man tip lines, and wait for something to pop. What we do behind the scenes isn’t something a regular citizen normally sees, but you happen to be here with us, so you do.” He covered her hand with his own. “Rest assured, if Jesse is alive, we’re going to find him and bring his abductor to justice.”