Run For Your Life, page 17
“Looks like your lip is bleeding. Want some water?”
“Yes.”
“Soon. You need to sound desperate and weak when you talk to your buddy. Let’s give him a call right now. I could use a good laugh.” Marlon dialed Mitch’s cell phone and waited. “Hmm. Doesn’t seem like he’s that interested in answering. You know what they say, out of sight, out of mind. Oh well, we’ll try again later. Here’s the water I promised you.” Marlon cracked open a bottle and poured it over Devon’s head. He allowed him to drink the final inch still in the bottle. “There you go. Kind of refreshing, right?” Marlon wrinkled his face. “Damn, it stinks in here. Did you shit yourself, or is that the corpse rotting in the next room?”
Marlon shrugged when he didn’t get an answer.
“Either way, I’m out of here. You had your chance to talk to Mitch, but he wasn’t available. Guess I’ll call him later, maybe over supper. Salmon, sweet potatoes, and a fresh salad. Sounds great, doesn’t it?” Marlon started toward the door and laughed as he turned back. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot about the tape.”
Chapter 41
I patted my pockets. “Damn it, I left my phone in the car. I want to see what time that call came in last night. I’ll be right back.”
I rushed outside, pressed the key fob, and unlocked the doors. My phone sat in the cup holder attached to the charger. After grabbing it, I returned to the conference room, where the others were still narrowing down the list of names.
“Okay, wait. What’s this? I missed a blocked call ten minutes ago. Damn it, nobody blocks their calls except the precinct and—”
Royce cut in. “The kidnapper, who probably wants to taunt you again.”
I slapped the table. “We don’t have much time. He’s getting impatient, but for what?”
Detective Bentley spoke up. “Sounds like he wants to draw us in. A setup, maybe, or a boobytrapped shanty? But you’d think there’s easier ways to eliminate cops if that’s his angle.”
Prentice took his turn “Maybe he just wants Mitch. Back to that theory about somebody who has a beef with you, Cannon.”
I groaned. “Yeah, maybe. We need to get out there and start banging on doors.”
“Not until we find the right structure,” Royce said. “We have to surround it and be ready for anything. Banging on doors is too time-consuming. Continue with the background checks on those property owners on Turners Rock Road. One of them is Marlon, knows Marlon, or has no idea that trespassers are holding people captive in that residence. Remember, the land has to have a dwelling on it, no matter how low the value is.”
We dug back in, and only six of the twenty-two residences had an owner who had ever been arrested.
“Okay, out of those six people, how many tax records show a dwelling on their property?”
“Three,” I said. “That doesn’t mean the rest of the people on Turners Rock Road are innocent. They’ve never been arrested, but maybe they’re carrying out deeds on behalf of someone else.”
“Like the person you testified against in their court case?” Prentice asked.
“Yeah, like that. Murder isn’t something you spend two years in jail for. We’re talking about life sentences or death penalties. Of course, that person’s friends and family are pissed and want retaliation, but keep in mind, it was their loved one who committed murder, not me.”
Royce shook his head. “We don’t have time to compare people who are in prison with their known associates and relatives to see if any of them are landowners on Turners Rock Road. Maybe you’re right, Mitch. We can gather as many detectives and officers as necessary, block the only way out, that gate, and then go back there and check every property.” Royce stood, slapped the table, and told his men to be ready to leave in thirty minutes. He said he would pass the same information on to Sergeant Timmons in SVU.
“Good,” I said. “Let’s get Devon before his time runs out.”
We gathered outside at noon. There were twelve of us, not a lot but enough since that area was virtually an island. Nobody could drive out without passing the officers, who would be stationed at the gate. I called Atlas Ocean Marine and said we needed them to open the gate. Suited up with our protective gear and plenty of ammo, we headed out for the twenty-minute drive.
We found somebody from Atlas Marine waiting at the gate when we arrived. I was sure that with six police cars approaching, he wondered what was going on. Sergeant Timmons from SVU took the lead, showed the man his badge, and asked if he knew any of the homeowners farther down the road. He replied that he didn’t.
With the gate open and a handful of printed maps of every driveway and building divided between us, we were going to check each home and cross them off one at a time. Since the road was shaped like a long rope with a loop at the end, five of us went one way, five went the other, and two officers remained at the gate. We planned to meet in the middle.
I sensed something wrong after visiting the third home. They were all nice, permanent residences with friendly homeowners. Nobody knew of any suspicious activity in the area or of any strangers milling around. I doubted that many people would see anything off—all the driveways were long and in dense tree cover. I couldn’t picture an abandoned shanty, as Marlon had called it, in that neighborhood.
I cursed under my breath to Royce. “Just like Prentice pointed out, these aren’t the right kind of homes. Something is wrong.”
“Could Marie have made a mistake?”
“I don’t know how hypnosis works, Boss. Can you make a mistake when you’re hypnotized?”
He shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong person. Never dealt with it.”
We got the same response from every homeowner we spoke with—nobody knew of any strange happenings back there. One person reminded us that the gate prevented people who didn’t live there from entering.
“If Marie didn’t hear that gate creaking, then what did she hear?” I asked.
Nobody had an answer, least of all me. Did I just assume it was that gate because we saw it yesterday on the satellite view and it was stuck in my mind? I hoped not, but I wasn’t so sure.
“Boss, maybe Marie heard something else and not a gate at all. It could have been a flagpole creaking in the wind or a metal shed door that wasn’t properly fastened. Damn it, it could have been anything anywhere!”
Royce patted my shoulder. “Let’s finish up this area and move on. At least we’ll know that Devon isn’t back here.”
By three o’clock, we’d paid every homeowner a visit, and every house was as normal and unassuming as could be. We’d struck out and gotten off course. It was my fault. I’d interpreted Marie’s account wrong, and Devon and Liza would spend another fearful night away from home.
We returned to the precinct, where I sat at my desk and tried to pinpoint the murderer I’d helped send to prison who hated me more than any other cop. I needed answers even if it meant taking my work home and staying up all night to figure it out.
Chapter 42
They sat at the dining room table on East Duffy and enjoyed that salmon with sweet potatoes and a crisp green salad. Warm crusty rolls with slabs of cold butter topped off the meal. They were two people discussing the future over dinner and white wine, two people laughing at Devon Rue’s predicament, and two people relishing the fact that Mitch Cannon didn’t have a clue about anything.
Marlon decided to hold off on the phone call. He would rather imagine Cannon unable to sleep, worried, feeling guilty, and blaming himself for the situation Rue was in. It was Mitch who was supposed to have been with Liza that fateful night, not Devon, but shit took a dirty turn now and then, and Devon was paying the price. Cannon’s best friend and partner was nearly at death’s door.
“So, what’s the plan? Rue is suffering from lack of food and water. He’ll die before long, and then we won’t have a bargaining chip. Cannon is going to want to speak with him, to know he’s alive before he’ll deal with us.”
“Not a problem. Dad taught us all about suffering. Without it, lessons wouldn’t be learned. He suffered his whole life because of abusive parents, and we suffered years later when he went to prison for killing them. We’ll suffer even more when he dies, but he had to do what he had to do. They were abusers in every way—to their children, to each other, and even to their pets. They enjoyed the pain they inflicted on others. Dad was righting the wrongs in his family. He didn’t ask to be born to them. None of them did. Those two didn’t deserve children, and Dad didn’t regret ending their lives.”
“We both remember what happened back then. Killing them made Dad no better, and then there was that nosy neighbor who saw everything.”
Marlon nodded. “Yeah, how could I forget that? Who would have thought that when the property was foreclosed on and the house was torn down years later for that subdivision, all three bodies would be found? Dad’s DNA and fingerprints were all over everything, especially the gun he threw in the hole with them.”
“Damn Mitch Cannon and his testimony. That’s what sealed Dad’s fate, and now he’s dying of cancer anyway. We were robbed of years we could have spent with him as a free man. If it wasn’t for Cannon—”
“Dad should have kept the house instead of letting the bank take it back,” Marlon said. “But that was a long time ago, and he said the house was cursed. At least nobody knows we’re related to him because we don’t use his last name. I guess in hindsight, it’s good that he never married Mom.”
“I wonder whatever happened to her. Do you think Dad killed her too?”
“Shhh. Eat your supper before it gets cold. Mom left us, remember? She ran off with some loser.” Marlon swatted the air. “You don’t remember everything. I shielded you from a lot of the shit she did. She was always cheating on Dad. I was glad when she left, and I never spent one day missing her. We’ve lost too much time with family that we’ll never get back. Dad is dying, and it’s time. Detective Cannon needs his comeuppance. He has to feel the pain of suffering too.”
“What about the body in the barrel?”
“Who cares? She’s nobody. We’ll get rid of her tomorrow before we lure Cannon in.”
The plan was made. Everything would end the next day. It had to, or Rue would die of starvation. Cannon would pay to play, or he would find his partner dead in a barrel.
Chapter 43
Gus was curled up and snoring on the couch. I gave him a quick smile and snapped a picture of him. I planned to share the cute image with Devon, like all the others I’d shared with him, but we needed him back home first.
As I sat on the recliner, my beer, pen, and spiral notebook within reach, I went over years of court cases I’d testified on.
Shit, I never called Marie like I promised.
I stopped what I was doing and checked the time—nine o’clock. The kids were in bed, and Marie would have a free minute. Whether she was spending that time with Ben or not, I didn’t care. He meant nothing to me anymore. He wasn’t family. He was a cheater and just another of those statistics about infidelity occurring after years of marriage and several kids. I made the call, and after three rings, Marie picked up.
“Hey, Mitch.”
“Hi, Sis. Sorry I didn’t call earlier, but we’re trying to find that kidnapper. How are you doing now that you’re home?”
“I’m okay. Glad to be safe with the family and the kids are really happy I’m back.”
“I bet they are.”
Marie continued. “I was looking online at security systems when you called.”
I listened closely. Did I hear sniffling, sadness, or anger in her voice? It didn’t sound like it. “I’ll find you a good one and install it. Everything will be right at your fingertips, and you’ll be able to monitor the system from your phone.”
“I like that idea. Hang on. I’m going into the bedroom.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to talk privately with you.”
I heard her close the door.
“Okay, what’s Ben’s deal? He should be happy and relieved that I’m home, but he acts all mopey and quiet.”
“Did you ask him?”
“Sort of. More like if he was feeling sick. He said no but didn’t say anything else. He just fiddles around with his phone.”
“Like he’s searching something or sending texts?”
She groaned. “I don’t know, but it’s starting to piss me off. He seems disconnected. But enough about him. What’s going on with Devon? Are you getting closer to finding him after my hypnosis session?”
It was my turn to groan, and I was sure I did it too loudly.
“What’s wrong, Mitch?”
“Those directions didn’t pan out. It wasn’t anything you did or said. It was my interpretation of what you said. I jumped the gun. We have to start over in the morning, and I’m going to request a transcript of your session from Dr. Evans.”
“Will that help?”
“I sure hope so. Devon and Liza don’t have a lot of time left. You said you only got a little water to drink and no food, right?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Well, Devon is a big guy. He needs nourishment to keep going, and water has zero calories.”
“What about Liza?”
“She’s about your size.”
“Is she a cop too?”
“No, she’s just somebody that I was supposed to go to a charity scavenger hunt with, and because you went missing, Devon took my place. I feel like shit about that. I should be the one they’re holding, not him.”
“But the wheels were already in motion. I was already kidnapped by then. They were going to take them no matter who was in the car, but I’m assuming they thought it would be you. My question is, how did anyone know where to find them, what time they were leaving, or where they were going? Also, how did they overpower two people in a moving vehicle?”
“All good questions, Marie. You sure you don’t want to become a cop?”
She grunted. “No, thanks. My life is stressful enough with two kids and now a husband who acts weird.”
“Okay, I’ll pick out a few good security systems online, send you the links, and then you can review them to see which you like best. Good night, Sis, and get some sleep.”
“I will, and I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I hung up and went back to my computer. I needed to keep things simple and reviewed what Marie had just said. It was all about me. That much, I knew. Devon didn’t have any skin in the game and was an accidental victim. That meant the person I was looking for had to be someone I helped put away before Devon and I became partners.
I had been looking only at cases during the last few years, likely anniversary-date revenge, but I needed to change my focus. Marie’s comments might help rescue Devon even more than her hypnosis could. Between them both, we were sure to find him.
If only I knew something about that scavenger hunt. Why wasn’t there anything online about it, especially if it’s held every month?
Marie’s abduction was meant to send me a message, nothing else. She had nothing to do with me being a cop. She was a convenient victim. The kidnapper knew Ben’s schedule, knew where they lived, and knew that Marie would be at home.
Who knows anything about my family or their lives other than my workmates and neighbors? I haven’t spoken to anyone else about—
I thought back on my date with Liza. She’d wanted to know all about me, my family, and my hobbies. I was so flattered at the time, but right then, I wondered if she had just been information gathering.
She’d also picked up Devon in a stolen vehicle that was owned by a man who didn’t live far from where Marie was found. The distance between the two locations was only a mile or so as the crow flies. I felt like the puzzle was slowly coming together, but I was still missing the key pieces. I assumed Liza knew some unsavory characters, but what that had to do with me, I wasn’t sure. Yet nothing bad began until after I met her. I wondered if we’d met by chance or by design. I shook those thoughts out of my head. I didn’t know anybody with the last name Montclaire other than Liza, but I would certainly give a closer look to those criminals I helped put away more than six years ago.
She can’t be involved. She was kidnapped, too, and according to Marie, she’s held captive just like Devon is.
I wondered if the kidnapper involved Liza to get to me, but why? The woman was a perfect stranger until a few weeks ago. There was the chance that somebody forced her to cooperate with their demands by holding something over her head, maybe blackmail. Nothing else made sense. I went back to the computer. There was a window of two years between the time I became a homicide detective and the time Rue became my partner. I would look deeper into that time frame. After counting every murder arrest and conviction I’d been a part of during those two years, I checked the time and went to bed. That information would be shared with my colleagues in the morning, and we would work together to find the needle in the proverbial haystack.
Once we found Devon and Liza and brought them home, all my questions would be answered, including the questions I wanted to ask Liza—was she set up to draw me in, and by whom?
I thought about the blocked call I’d missed earlier that day. Was it Marlon, and if so, what taunt did he have planned?
Chapter 44
I woke up excited to get to work. The more eyeballs we had searching the files from those two years, the more likely we would come across something that would pan out. We had to find Devon, or the search for him would be passed off to the FBI and we would lose all control of the investigation.
Once we had gathered again in the multidepartment conference room at eight o’clock, I knew we needed to do a deep dive into every murderer I’d helped put away in those two years who was given a life-or-death sentence.
I stood at the end of the table and explained my theory. “It could be an upcoming anniversary of their capture or incarceration, or possibly their execution date is coming up. Look for a notation of the perp, a family member, or a friend who verbally threatened me. Also pull out every file where I testified in court as a material witness. Out of the fifty-four murders during those two years, I was the lead detective in thirteen of them. That number doesn’t sound like a lot, but each and every entry in the perp’s file for their arrest, interrogations, and court proceedings has to be read and read again. You detectives in homicide know how lengthy a perp’s file can be. Boxes upon boxes of information as well as online documents need to be gone through.”
