Everywhere That Tommy Goes (11 page)

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Authors: Howard K. Pollack

BOOK: Everywhere That Tommy Goes
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“You can say that again.”

We drive to the room, I hang Aurora’s bag over my shoulder and we climb the stairs. “I guess we can stay here for a few nights while we figure out what to do.”

Aurora slides the card into the door slot. “Yeah, but we shouldn’t stay in any one place for too long.” She walks through the door, draws a breath and makes a face. “They told me this was a non-smoking room.”

“Losers. You think we can change before we get comfortable?”

“No—not wise. That may bring attention to us. You’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I suppose you’re right.” I pull her bag off my shoulder and the strap catches on my necklace, snapping the chain. It falls to the floor. “Damn, I really liked that thing.” I pick it up and toss it on the night table. I’ll fix it later.

Aurora opens the bag and starts taking out her toiletries. “I’m going to take a shower and wash up, okay?”

I look away and start thinking about more than just sleeping. I’m still not sure how she’ll react if I make a move, and it’s been a while since I’ve gotten any action, but just being alone with someone as hot as she is makes it very tough to resist. . . . It’s too soon, though. Imagining her soaping up in the shower is just about all I can take. I’ve got to bolt. “I think I’m gonna take a walk and clear my head while I sort things out.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? Maybe you shouldn’t be out in the open.”

“Relax. No one would ever think of looking for me up here.”
Besides, if I stick around much longer I’ll never be able to control myself
.

*   *   *

My short walk turns into a much longer one, and I lose track of time. It’s real peaceful out here. The chill of the night feels good, and the smell of the country air is refreshing as I walk along the side of the road. At least a half hour goes by, and not even a single car passes.

I come up to a large boulder sitting at the edge of the woods. I climb up on it and stretch out, putting my hands behind my head as I stare up at the sky. The stars are really out tonight. I can’t remember the last time I looked up at the heavens and even saw any stars at all. Crazy thoughts start banging around inside my head, and my mind begins to race. I hear whispering. It sounds like Troyer calling out to me in that dumb-ass Australian accent.

I look around, but no one’s there. No way could the dude follow us up here. No way!

Then I start hearing that bartender girl calling out Troyer’s name. I feel like I’m back in my car heading toward Gilgo Beach and she’s in the trunk. “Troyer, why’d you do this to me?” she’s pleading. “I can’t breathe. Please let me out of here.”

My chest feels like it’s about to explode. I start shaking and sweating, and now
I
can’t breathe. I sit up quickly and jerk my head from side to side, expecting somebody to burst out of the woods and shoot me dead on the spot. What the hell is wrong with me?

I climb off the rock, stand up for a second, and a wave of nausea comes over me.
Bam
, just like that, I double over and puke my guts out. I fall to my knees and keep heaving until there’s nothing left inside.

I crawl up against the side of the boulder and try to catch my breath. Everything goes black.

*   *   *

I’m standing right outside the motel room, and I have no idea how I got here.

I slide the card key into the slot, turn the door handle, and step inside. The lights are out, so I flick the switch, expecting to see Aurora tucked in and fast asleep.

The bed is empty, and there’s a note on it. I pick it up. Written in large block letters it says:

I HAVE HER NOW MATE. SEE YOU SOON.

CHAPTER 20

The detectives from New York and the officers from New Jersey sat huddled around a conference room table inside Manhattan’s third precinct. The far wall was covered with an outline containing a sequence of events, names, arrows, photographs, and circles. It was all written in different colors. A map of Gilgo Beach and the surrounding area was posted beside the outline. A large yellow X marked the spot where the body had been found. An enlarged photo of the crime scene was positioned beside the map, with smaller yellow numbers placed in various locations within the photo.

“Looks like some real fancy police work you got going on there, Detective.” Tanner said.

“This is how we do it in New York,” said Watts.

Sung rose from his chair, walked over to the wall, and put his face inches from the map. A confused look played across his face. “Care to explain?”

Watts stood, held up what looked like a pen, and clicked. A laser light beamed across the room. Pointing at the wall, he began. “This time sequence tells us approximately when Houston disappeared. We discovered that she left the club after midnight. From there, we go to the time she was reported missing, who reported it, the relationship, etc. As we continue down the line, it shows when and where we discovered the first pieces of evidence, the time it was collected, and what we found . . .”

Sung interrupted. “What’s with the picture of the pizza box?”

“That, officer, was our first real clue. It turns out the box was from a pizza place located in Queens, over fifteen miles from the garbage dumpster where we discovered it.”

“So how is that a clue?” asked Tanner.

“Houston’s blood was found a few feet from the dumpster. And when we checked out the pizza place, it turned out that Thomas Sullivan worked there as a delivery guy. We also found traces of vomit on the box, as well as on the pavement near the blood.” Watts pointed to a spot on the photo. “We ran DNA on Sullivan and it matched the vomit, so we know he was at the crime scene.”

“So what does this map of the beach have to do with all this?” Tanner asked.

“We found a body over there,” Watts pointed again. “But the body isn’t Houston’s.”

“Then how does it tie in?”

Stone chimed in before Watts could answer. “Are you familiar with the Gilgo Beach case from last year?”

Tanner nodded. “Of course. Are you saying this may be connected to that case? Is that a map of Gilgo Beach?”

“We can’t be certain that this is all connected,” said Stone. “But we suspect so. We found information on Sullivan’s computer that prompted us to investigate the beach.”

“That is something. So do you have any leads on his whereabouts?” Sung asked.

“Good question,” Stone answered. “Our last sighting was down in Cape May. Then we lost him. We’ve got some good men there and hope to locate him soon.”

“That’s close to our jurisdiction, Detective,” Tanner offered. “I’m sure we can help with that.”

“Good. Now that we’re all on the same page, why don’t the two of you head back to Jersey and head up the search? We’ll cover things up here and report back to you. Maybe you’ll have better luck finding this guy with local resources.”

“Sounds like a plan, Detective,” Tanner said. “Just keep us in the loop, and we’ll do the same.”

“You can count on it,” Stone answered, shooting a nod of approval at her partner.

CHAPTER 21

I run outside in a panic and look around, hoping to see Troyer in the parking lot with Aurora. Yeah, right—who am I kidding? The psycho is long gone, and Aurora is in deep shit. So, knowing I’ll regret it later, I pull out my cell, put the battery back in and turn it on. I speed-dial Troyer. No answer, of course, so I power it down and hope that it wasn’t on long enough for the cops to zero in on me. Then, out of nowhere, I get nauseous again and start sweating like crazy. The room begins to spin, and my head pounds. When I get like this I just can’t function. So I take a couple of migraine pills, turn out the light, and lie down.

CHAPTER 22

At precisely ten
AM
the next morning, Detective Stone’s cell phone rang.

“Stone here. What ya got for me, Morgan?”

“We’ve found another body and some blood and drag marks a short distance away.”

“Is it Houston?”

“We don’t think so,” Morgan said. “Too decomposed. Has to have been here for at least six months, probably more. It’s female, and there’s a belt around her neck. The cause of death appears to be strangulation.”

Stone searched the ceiling of the squad room before responding. “Sounds like a different M.O. Is the body clothed?”

“Yes, and she was definitely a pro. Looks like a low-class streetwalker, though. Certainly not a high-priced hooker from the outfit.”

“The plot thickens,” Stone said, shaking her head as she looked at Watts. “Get her in for an autopsy.”

“Already on it,” Morgan answered.

“What?” asked Watts, raising his palms and eyebrows in synch.

Stone shook her head and spoke into her cell. “What about the blood and the drag marks?”

Morgan scratched his head, pacing as he spoke. “The dogs led us to a spot one grid over from the hooker’s body. We found dried blood, a bracelet, and drag marks. This one could tie in to Houston. There are some washed out bare footprints in the sand. They’re small and could be female. Hard to tell, though.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing yet, but there are a few houses up the beach. We’re heading out to question the residents.”

“Good. We’re on our way.” Stone pocketed her phone and filled Watts in.

“Two bodies and evidence of a third, all in one area.” Watts remarked. “That’s way too much coincidence. Sullivan has to be responsible.”

“I want to agree, but something doesn’t fit. The M.O.s are all different. Blunt-force trauma to the head on one victim, strangulation of another, and we still don’t know exactly what happened to Houston.”

“Maybe he is experimenting with different methods to see which one he likes best.”

“I don’t know,” said Stone. “But I’m willing to bet there are more bodies out there.”

CHAPTER 23

Aurora returned to consciousness and opened her eyes into a blindfold. Taking a deep breath, she coughed as the sour odor of mold burned her nostrils.

“Hello!” she called out, writhing and twisting her wrists within the ropes that bound her.

A silent emptiness echoed back at her.

“Is anybody out there?” she yelled, more loudly.

Again, nothing.

Shivering, Aurora began to whimper. “Please let me go. I’m cold.”

More nothing.

“What do you want from me?”

Deafening silence.

Aurora struggled and rocked the chair she was tied to. “Is that you, Troyer?”

The wind blew and rattled the room.

“Hello!”

CHAPTER 24

I wake up fully clothed, lying across the bed at an odd angle. My mouth is filled with cotton, and my head is pounding. I shake off my sleep, slowly remembering that last night Troyer kidnapped Aurora and I’m more fucked than I can ever remember in my entire miserable life.

I don’t even know where to begin to try and figure out where Aurora could be. Or what I should do next.

CHAPTER 25

Tanner and Sung reached the Cape. A small, unassuming brick building, two blocks from the beach, housed the local police force.

With Sung at his heel, Tanner strode up to the raised counter. A shorter man would have had to look up to speak with the desk officer on duty, but Tanner faced him eye-to-eye.

“Afternoon, Officer . . . Murphy,” Tanner said, eyeing his nametag. “I’m looking for your chief. Is he around?”

“If you mean Chief Knox,
she
is.”

“Excuse me. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

“No problem. Whom shall I say is asking?”

“Tanner—Officer Monty Tanner, and this is my deputy, Sammy Sung. We’re down from Seaview investigating a murder. I’m sure you’ve heard about it.”

“Oh, yes, certainly,” Murphy said, stepping back from the counter. “I’ll tell her you’re here.”

A minute later, Murphy reappeared. “Follow me.”

The men were ushered into Chief Roberta Knox’s office.

“Have a seat, gentlemen,” she said, in a gravelly, authoritative voice. “I’m told you’re here investigating that horrible murder in Seaview.”

“That’s correct,” Tanner answered, sizing up the buxom, gray-haired woman with steel blue eyes.

Knox returned a cold, calculating stare. “What could possibly have led you two down here?”

“Well, Chief, we’ve been coordinating with detectives from New York who have been investigating a murder up there. Some of the evidence ties into our murder and suggests that the perp was seen in your jurisdiction a few days ago. We’ve got a lead on his car and figured we’d come down here to look around.”

“I see,” Knox said, nodding. After a long pause, she continued. “We’re a small resort community down here, you know, and we can’t have any high-profile, media-circus events scaring our tourists away just before the summer season.”

“I understand, Chief. We’re not here to raise a ruckus. We’ll keep things quiet. We only want to find this guy. His name is Thomas Sullivan, and he owns a silver 2002 Honda Accord, with New York plates.”

“And you think he’s hiding somewhere around here?”

“We were told that he was seen last Tuesday morning having breakfast at a place called The Nook.”

“Then it shouldn’t be too difficult to track him down. The season hasn’t begun yet, and there are mostly locals around. We can check the inns to see if he took a room. You have a picture?”

“We do,” Sung said, pulling a photo from the folder he was carrying. “And here is the license plate number.”

“We’ll make some copies and circulate them to our officers.”

“That would be great, Chief,” Tanner said. “Please keep us informed of any developments.”

“Acknowledged.”

“May I ask you something, Chief?” Tanner asked.

“You may.”

“Has there been any criminal activity around here in the past week or so?”

“Out of the ordinary, you mean?”

“Well, that depends on what you consider ordinary.”

“Domestic disputes, shoplifting, DWIs, bar fights—that’s what we get around here. Certainly no murders.”

“Well, how about in the last week or so?”

“Let’s see,” Knox said, turning her eyes upward. “A local man was beaten up pretty badly a few days ago. He’s still in the hospital. It seems he stumbled out of a bar very drunk and was found hours later in a nearby alley.”

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