The Face of Fear: A Powers and Johnson Novel (33 page)

“Yes,” Bud said. “I did catch myself pretty good there, didn’t I?” Bud called in the license plate, and it came back as a reported stolen vehicle from three hours prior.

“It’s for sure abandoned now,” he said to Bud, “but where the hell is he staying? I guess the manhunt is working.”

Bud sat down at Allan’s desk to call Cronin and then Paul.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Allan said as he was dialing.

“Thanks,” Bud remarked, not noticing that Allan was being sarcastic. He spoke to Cronin and brought him up to date, and the detective lieutenant was pleased that Phil Smith was still locked in the area. He had Bud read the note to him three times.

“What are you thinking, boss?” Bud asked.

“I’m thinking we have an extra piece in the puzzle. OK, call Paul, give him the news, but I do not want this in the media. Tell no one other than Paul.”

“Allan here knows, boss. He was with me and just heard me read it to you.”

Cronin answered, “He needs to keep his mouth shut.”

“He will, boss,” Bud replied. “Hey, boss,” Bud caught him before hanging up. “How did Smith know we would find the dog addressed to Paul at the mansion?”

“We are going to find out, Bud,” came the reply.

“He wants to play a game. I’m going to change the rules,” Bud said as he hung up without saying goodbye.

Bud called Paul and gave him the update and read the note to him. He said, “Paul, we need to get together and discuss what he means by 'who do you love?’”

“Why?” Paul yelled into the phone. “It means the people I care about are in danger!”

“Paul,” Bud yelled. He heard a
click.

“Son of a bitch! He hung up on me!”

“You are so good at aggravating people,” Allan remarked.

Bud ignored the last remark and pulled out the paper with the list of names he marked
left, right,
and
don’t know
and started to circle the names that fit the body profile of the masked killer who were still alive based on the video from the hospital. The names on the list that he circled, regardless if they were left- or right-handed, were Paul, Jason “Jack” O’Connor, Sherman, and Smith. Four names. He put his pen on all four and gave each thought. He turned his pen upside down and tapped each name twice. He turned to Allan and said, “Let’s look at the camera film. We are going to be here a while, my friend. Let’s have a pizza delivered.”

Cronin was in his office going over his notes when he asked Gina to have Assistant District Attorney Ashley stop by. The assistant district attorney was in Cronin’s office within 40 minutes.

“How do you like your temporary home here? Do you miss us in Yaphank?”

“You know, John, I haven’t had time to miss anyone.”

“What’s up?” the ADA replied.

“I want to talk about Patty Saunders. Please close the door.”

“Don’t worry,” the ADA said. “She’s in for kidnapping; she’s not going anywhere. In fact, after the arraignment today, we can move her to headquarters before going to Riverhead.”

“That’s just it,” Cronin replied, “I want her out on bail.”

“What?” Ashley said.

“Hear me out,” Cronin said. “Be quiet and listen to everything before you interrupt. Get the judge to give her a $1 million bail so it doesn’t look like a gift or setup to the perp. Now she’s out on bail. We can use her to flush out Smith and/or the killer. She can cooperate with us and maybe get 10 to 15 years off for kidnapping. She’ll be in for 20 years instead of life if we find who’s adding to the body count.” Ashley stood up and quietly said, “You have totally lost your mind. She initiated a kidnapping that led to murders, and you want her on the street.”

Cronin stood up and said, “Tell the judge it will help us further the investigation to have her out on the street.”

“No,” the assistant district attorney said. “You can tell the district attorney, and then you can tell the judge.”

“Fine,” Cronin said, “I will do that.”

“You are risking your whole career if this goes south. You know that, right?” Ashley replied.

Cronin sat down again, leaned back, and said, “I’ve gone over this case carefully; my record speaks for itself. The only way this game will end is if she’s on the street.”

“You mean case, right, Detective?” Ashley said.

“Call it what you want, John, but it’s a fucking game. And if we don’t play it and change the rules, our careers will be over anyway.”

John looked out the window at the officers and civilian personnel in their routine and turned back to Cronin. He asked, “Where would we get a million dollars from?”

Cronin answered immediately. “The bail bondsmen would need $100,000 up front, and William Lance would sign and guarantee the $900,000 if she skipped town.”

“You got William Lance, the father of the girl who was beaten and kidnapped, to guarantee the bail?”

“Yes,” Cronin replied.

The assistant district attorney was shaking his head as he said, “And just how the fuck, excuse my French, did you manage that?”

“I spoke to him,” the detective lieutenant replied, “and I convinced him this was the only way to end this.”

“Christ,” Ashley said, “you’re coming with me to the district attorney’s office. I’m not going in alone on this.”

Cronin laughed and said, “You already said that, John.”

“Who else knows about this?” the assistant district attorney asked.

“No one—not the FBI, not even my detectives.”

“Are you going to tell them? Are you going to tell the chief? What the hell is going on?”

Cronin looked out the window then back at Ashley and said, “I’m not telling anyone other than you, the district attorney, the judge, and Lance, who’s in Florida. I’ve already told the commander and commissioner. I don’t know who to trust, but I guarantee you, this game will be over within a few days after she is released on bail.”

“She doesn’t have to take it,” Ashley said.

Cronin made a face at the assistant district attorney and said, “She will take it. Besides, she’s probably itching at the bit to get laid. Every time we talk to her, there was another man that she notched on her bedpost.”

“Damn,” Ashley said. “This is absolutely crazy.”

“It’s a crazy case, John,” Cronin answered, “but we have to do it today or tomorrow. Things are heating up, and I don’t want another body found, especially one of my own.”

Ashley touched his hair, tightened his tie on his shirt, and said, “Kevin, if we release this girl and she gets blown away, then what?”

“We save a few hundred thousand in taxpayers’ money,” the detective answered. “That’s the chance they all take when they take bail. This girl does not have a lot of options. We are giving her an opportunity to help others and help herself.”

Ashley shook his head and said, “Didn’t you already offer her a deal to give her to the FBI on the kidnapping charges if she cooperated?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Then?” the assistant district attorney asked. “So what are you doing?”

“Look,” Cronin replied, “kidnapping is already a life sentence in most cases, especially this one. If we catch Smith or whoever else is killing the others, then it’s worth it. Besides, she probably won’t come out of this alive anyway.”

“Oh, great!” the assistant district attorney said. “You really believe this is the way to go and not to tell anyone this is a setup?”

“It has to be this way,” Cronin said.

“OK,” the assistant district attorney answered. “I’ll set up a meeting this afternoon and delay the arraignment until tomorrow so we have time to talk to the appropriate people. Do you have anything else you want to share with me? It’s already been a bad day, and you have been successful at making me a nervous wreck about what we are about to do.”

“So you agree with me?” Cronin answered.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” the assistant district attorney said.

“Well, you don’t have to go to the district attorney if you disagree with me.”

“True,” Ashley said. “If you didn’t have the reputation of a topflight investigator, I would have told you to go screw yourself. I will call the district attorney and set something up for the afternoon.”

“Thanks,” Cronin said. “Get ready for the real fun.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Ashley said. “I’ll be talking to you,” he said as he left the office.

He got about 20 yards into the office area and turned around to look at Cronin, who was already in his paperwork. Ashley shook his head in amazement and respect at the conversation he had just had and what was about to happen. He got in his car and made a call to the district attorney’s office. He told District Attorney Steinberg’s secretary there needed to be a meeting later in the afternoon with him and Detective Lieutenant Cronin. The time of 5:00 pm was given, and Ashley relayed the information to Cronin’s office. He started his BMW and drove to Yaphank headquarters.

Bud was still at Allan’s office in the Belle Terre security building when he got a call from Cronin for an update. The detective informed his boss that they were reviewing the video from the time the young girl told him the dog was taken. When Cronin questioned him how sure he was about the young girl’s time concept, Bud replied, “Boss, she’s so good, we should hire her.” Cronin accepted his feelings and asked for a call back in a couple hours.

Allan played back the video to the approximate time, and within five minutes, they spotted Phil Smith placing the dog behind the bushes and tying him up so he couldn’t get away. After he placed the dog down, he looked up at the camera and flipped the bird, looking straight into it.

“What an asshole” Allan remarked.

Bud was squinting and still thinking about the scene he had just witnessed. Then he said, “If Phil Smith is the one wearing the mask, why didn’t he just put one on, here?”

“Unless...” Allan interrupted.

“Unless what? Unless it really is someone else doing the killing,” Bud answered.

Allan debated Bud and told him that he could not have worn the mask while driving around anyway, and by not wearing the mask, it only added to the puzzle. Bud was thinking about the letter again, addressed to Rachelle. Phil stated in the letter he wanted everyone to know it would be him if he killed. The letter was still confidential, so Bud didn’t mention anything about it to Allan.

“When are you leaving?” Allan remarked. “You have been in my way now for over two hours. Don’t you have anything else to do?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” the detective said. Bud got up to leave, when Lindsey walked into the building and gave a polite knock on the door.

“Hi!” she said in her cute girl voice. “I baked you some chocolate chip cookies for bringing Monty back to me.”

“Well,” Bud replied, “I guess I don’t have to leave too soon.”

“This is very nice,” Allan said, and invited her in as he looked out in the parking lot to see if her dad was there. He was.

“Thank you so much, Lindsey,” Allan remarked.

“Lindsey,” Bud said, “did you ever happen to see the man you drew before?”

“Yes,” she replied. “He was here yesterday but in a different car.” Bud moved closer and said, “Honey, why didn’t you tell us that before?”

“You didn’t ask, silly,” Lindsey said.

Suddenly, Bud was brought back to reality. As smart as she was, Lindsey was still 12 years old.

“What time was he here, Lindsey?” Allan asked.

“12:04 is the time I saw him.”

Bud looked at Allan before asking the young girl, “Why do you remember it was 12:04 and not 12 noon?”

“Because I always look at my watch when strangers speak to me for the first time.”

“What did he say to you?” Bud asked, getting anxious.

“All he said was, 'Hello, what a cute dog.’”

Bud pushed harder, asking, “What kind of car was he driving?”

“A white Mitsubishi Montero XLS, license plate number SNY-2833.”

As she answered, Lindsey’s father walked in and both Bud and Allan thanked him.

As Lindsey said her goodbyes, Bud yelled, “Hey, Lindsey, what time was it today when I first spoke to you?”

“It was 11:07, Detective Johnson.”

Bud nodded as they left the building, and then said, “That girl is only 12 and she scares the shit out of me.” He looked at Allan and continued, “Her eyes were blue, right? They didn’t turn red, did they? Damn.” For the first time today, he had Allan laughing as he continued. “Is she gone yet? I have to bring her to the next party,”

Allan continued to laugh as he begged Bud to leave so he could get back to work. As the detective got in his car, he reminded Allan that Phil Smith had been in the area for the past two days and the note said there would not be a miss.

“It’s your ass he wants,” Allan replied.

“I guess so,” Bud said. “Maybe you should hire Lindsey to watch the video feed.” He started looking around again and said, “Damn, are you sure she’s not looking at us?”

“Go,” Allan said. “I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

“OK,” Bud said. “Save some cookies for me.”

“You don’t need cookies, big man.”

“Hey!” Bud yelled. “I can do four miles on the treadmill. Did Paul tell you?”

“Yes, he did,” Allan answered. “See you later, Superman.”

Bud nodded and said, “I guess he did tell you,” as he got in the car.

Bud sat behind the steering wheel. He picked up his BlackBerry and sent Deborah a text. It said, “Did you know, just about the only thing that favors a left-hander is the toll booth?”

She answered back before he even started the car. She wrote, “You’re a funny guy, Bud Johnson.”

“That’s what they tell me,” he sent back.

She wrote back, “Call me.”

Deborah’s phone rang within three minutes of her text to Bud. “Hi, there!” Deborah answered the phone.

“How’s things in southern Florida?” Bud asked.

“Well, you know,” she replied. “It would be better if all these strange men weren’t interested in where I was and what I was doing,” she said, referring to the protective detail. “Actually, I think things are pretty good. It’s quiet here, and there have been no problems.”

“Good,” Bud said. “It was probably a good idea for you to get away.”

“Are you making any progress?” she asked.