False Front (25 page)

He thought about creeping up the steps to look in the window on that door but the fading light was still strong enough to make him stand out if she happened to be in the room on the other side. It would have to wait. He knew that further exploration should be delayed until full dark.

He went back around to his car and slid behind the wheel to wait. He paid little attention to the slouched figure coming his way a few minutes later. Looked like a loser to him: backward baseball cap, baggy pants, one foot on, one foot off of a skateboard, scooting up the sidewalk.

After a quick glimpse in his rear-view mirror to make sure the person was still moving down the street, he ignored him. He didn’t watch him reach the end of the block and turn the corner. He couldn’t see him pull out a phone and call Jake.

FORTY-NINE

J
ake listened as the voice on the other end of the line said, ‘He’s here – parked a couple of doors down from the target home.’

‘You’re certain it’s him?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Are you going to take him now?’

‘No.’

‘What?’ Jake asked.

‘We have to catch him in a criminal act. Too many times he has weaseled out of charges. We can’t screw up this time.’

‘I’m on my way and I’m bringing a local homicide detective with me.’

‘Fine,’ the voice said. ‘But we have to move when we have to move. We can’t risk that woman’s life to wait for you.’

‘Understood,’ Jake said.

He ended the call and placed another to Lucinda.

‘Hi, Jake.’

‘Go home. Pack an overnight bag. A change of clothes, toothbrush, whatever else you need but make it quick. I’ll meet you there in forty-five minutes.’

‘Where are we going, Jake? What’s going on?’

‘The address you gave me for Olivia Cartwright?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s confirmed and Julius Trappatino is in a car parked in front of it.’

‘See you in forty-five minutes,’ Lucinda said and ended the call.

She used her lights and a whoop of her siren to get through a bottleneck downtown and reached her apartment building in record time. Entering her front door, she brushed aside the excited welcome from her cat Chester as she hurried to the bedroom. Chester stood in the doorway, wailing for her attention.

She extracted a rolling duffle bag from her closet and stuffed a pair of jeans, T-shirt, a charcoal-gray suit and off-white blouse into the bag. She rammed a pair of tennis shoes and a pair of gray heels into the side pockets and grabbed a toiletry bag that she speed-packed before dumping it into the duffle.

Lucinda then turned to Chester. ‘Oh, itty bitty kitty boy, I’m going away for a while. Come on. Let’s go fill your bowls.’ She scooped him up in her arms and his wails turned to purrs. He pressed the side of his face against her chin and rubbed.

Setting him down in the kitchen, she filled one bowl with a full can of his favorite tuna with cheddar canned food. While he ate, she piled another bowl high with dry cat food and a third with water, then checked on his litter box and was pleased to find it in good condition.

She then took care of her food, slapping a slice of turkey and a slice of havarti cheese and a leaf of romaine on a single piece of buttered five-grain bread. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until she took her first bite. She forced herself not to gobble.

She had a few minutes to snuggle with Chester before her cell rang. ‘Pulling into your parking garage.’

‘Stop in front of the elevators on level one. I’ll be there in a flash.’

When she stepped out of the elevator, rolling her bag behind her, Jake popped the trunk and jumped out of the car. He grabbed her bag and tossed it into the trunk.

‘That wasn’t necessary but thank you.’

‘My mom taught me to be a gentleman.’

‘And she did an excellent job.’

‘I’ve arranged for an FBI plane to pick us up and transport us to the Robbinsville airport near Trenton. A special agent from that field office will be waiting to pick us up and take us to the scene or to the office if they’ve already picked him up. And that will probably be the case. I don’t think they’ll put off his arrest much longer unless he just sits in his car and does nothing.’

‘I guess that means we won’t know what’s happening until we’re back on the ground.’

‘Not unless something extreme happens. Like if they shot and killed Trappatino, I imagine they’d get a message to our pilot. Short of that, I imagine we’ll be clueless until we get there.’

As they boarded the plane, Lucinda was surprised. She expected something basic and worn. Instead she saw leather seats for eight and a conversation area with a table in the back.

Jake poked his head into the cockpit and said, ‘Hey, how did we rate this plane?’

‘You just got lucky. I was in the area and hadn’t flown since yesterday.’

‘Hope our luck holds on the ground,’ Jake said before sliding into a seat and snapping his seat belt. Turning to Lucinda, he said, ‘This baby is normally used to flying VIPs around. Can’t believe we got it.’

‘I can’t believe how comfortable this seat is,’ Lucinda said. ‘It’s hard to believe I’m on an airplane and I can actually stretch out my legs.’

‘And we both need to do that and try to get some sleep. This is going to be a long night.’

Neither one of them actually thought sleep was possible but they woke up suddenly when the wheels hit the ground. As the plane taxied to a stop, both experienced an adrenaline jolt that catapulted them into alertness and prepared them for any challenge ahead.

FIFTY

T
rappatino’s original plan called for him to wait until the middle of the night – 2 a.m. or 3 a.m. to enter the house and set the right conditions for a gas explosion. When he saw the last light on the second floor turn off at 9:30 p.m., he decided to make his entrance in half an hour.

He doubled checked his equipment bag. He had the wrench he needed to unscrew the natural gas drip cap. He had a can of lubricant in case it proved stubborn. He had the exquisitely crafted glass cutter, one of his favorite tools, to breech a window and access the home. And he had what he liked to call his romantic touch – an eight-inch high, champagne-pink pillar candle and a disposable lighter.

He started his car and circumscribed the block, pulling into a parking space as far from the house as he could get and still have a view of it. If the explosion occurred quicker than he anticipated, he didn’t want the vehicle caught under flying debris or blocked in by emergency vehicles. He’d rather be a bit further away but that would mean lurking on the street to keep an eye on the house before he made his move. The street was too quiet for him to remain inconspicuous loitering in the vicinity.

He looked up and down the street, taking care to determine if shadows behind windows indicated that anyone was peering out into the darkness. The coast was clear. He turned off the interior light in his car and slipped out of the vehicle with a sports bag in his hand. He casually walked to the end of the block, turned a corner and approached the alley.

He looked up the narrow passageway for any sign of movement. He heard no one in their backyards and only saw the light from one back porch and it was well past his target house. Street lights illuminated the alleyway, making him stick to the shadows by the fences as he made his way to the middle of the block. Ducking into the drive where the gate remained open, he quickly crossed the open space to the stairway.

He grasped the banister and felt the sharp pokes of peeling paint against his palm. He crept up the stairs, ready to duck and freeze in place if any sound or movement alarmed him.

On the small landing by the door, he leaned his back against the wall. He slowed his breath and listened for any sound emanating from the house. In less than two minutes, he was ready to move again. He attached the suction cups of his tool to the window in the door and scribed a circle on the glass at dead-bolt level. Pulling it loose, he carefully set it down in the corner of the porch and put away his cutting tool.

Reaching in through the window, he flipped the dead bolt then reached down further to turn the lock on the door knob. He paused to listen again before easing open the door. He was in a small galley kitchen. At the end of it, a door led to the basement. To the right, an archway led to the dining room.

He set the candle in the middle of the dining-room table and lit the wick. Returning to the kitchen, he turned on two burners on the gas stove. He then went down the rickety wooden stairs to the basement.

In less than a minute, he located the natural gas drip cap. Using the wrench, he turned it open without any difficulty. He hurried back up the steps. Leaving the basement door open, he checked the burners on the stove and saw that the flames had flickered out. Gas was no longer getting to the stove. He set the knobs to the automatic pilot setting, knowing that when the fumes reached the stove, the explosion would rip the house apart.

He looked at the burning candle on the dining-room table and smiled. Odds were the stove would ignite the fumes first but he knew the airflow patterns could be unexpected. That the old-fashioned simplicity of the candle might do the trick pleased him, bringing a soft smile to his face.

He opened the back door to make his exit but when he did, he found the barrel of an AK47 pointed right at his heart. A man dressed in black held the weapon steady.

Before Trappatino could react, he heard the front door burst open and the sound of feet moving rapidly in his direction. Before he could analyze his situation, he felt a barrel in his back and hands pulling his arms behind him and slapping cuffs around his wrists.

Trappatino heard feet pounding up the stairway to the second floor as he was jerked out of the house and dragged, stumbling down the steps. He hoped that they wouldn’t figure out what he had done until it was too late. He hoped the explosion killed not only his target but as many law enforcement personnel as possible.

FIFTY-ONE

J
ake threw open the door on the plane and waited impatiently for the steps rolling in their direction.

‘You’re not going to take a flying leap, are you?’ Lucinda asked.

‘I know you think highly of my abilities but I doubt I can make the jump to the ground without damaging one body part or another.’

‘Good. Men don’t always employ common sense in these situations.’

‘Don’t start with the stereotypes, Lucinda, or I’ll make you squirm with a few of my own.’

Lucinda chuckled as the steps clicked into place. Jake snapped the locks and began his descent. A suited man took the steps two at a time as he raced up to meet them. He stuck out his hand and said, ‘Special Agent Racanelli. They’ve got him in custody and are transporting him to the field office right now.’

Jake introduced Lucinda as they traversed the parking lot to the waiting black SUV. Racanelli ran down the events of the evening including the discovery of the gas leak, the evacuation of the neighborhood and securing the scene from explosion.

‘What about Bonnie? Or Olivia? Is she OK?’ Lucinda asked.

‘We don’t know,’ Racanelli said.

‘What?’ both Lucinda and Jake said in unison.

‘Well, we found a woman in the residence but it wasn’t Olivia Cartwright.’

‘Who was it?’ Jake asked.

‘Selma Upchurch Boone, Olivia’s sister.’

‘Where is Olivia?’ Lucinda asked.

‘No one knows. Selma lives in Knoxville, Tennessee, and is up here to visit her sister. On her last trip up, Olivia had given Selma a key so when she arrived she went into the house and made herself at home. A little after eight o’clock, Selma got a frantic call from her sister telling her that someone was watching the house and she needed to leave immediately.’

‘Why didn’t she go?’ Jake asked.

‘For years, she’s gotten one paranoid call after another from her sister. They were all false alarms. Selma said that she was tired from her travels and decided to ignore this one, figuring when the morning came, her sister would show up, a little embarrassed by yet another senseless round of fear, but doing fine.’

‘Oh, yikes, what a bad time to ignore her warnings,’ Lucinda said.

‘Well, Selma was sort of philosophical about it. She said that it must not be her time to go and something about her sister crying wolf too often. I was rather shocked at her cavalier attitude considering how close she came to being blown to pieces. When I pointed that out to her, she just shrugged.’

‘We need to find her sister,’ Lucinda said.

‘Yes, Lieutenant, we’re working on that,’ Racanelli said in a voice more appropriate in
Mister Roger’s Neighborhood
. ‘We’ve issued a BOLO – that’s Be On the Look-Out – for Ms Cartwright.’

‘Jeez, Racanelli, the lieutenant here is a homicide cop. She knows the lingo,’ Jake said.

Racanelli shrugged. ‘Hey, you know, she’s not FBI. You know what I mean?’

‘You see, Jake, that’s just what I’ve been talking about for years. Arrogance. It’s as natural to an FBI agent as breathing. That’s what’s behind that special agent crap. You all think you are so special. So above us ordinary cops,’ Lucinda ranted.

‘Aw, jeez, Racanelli. Look what you started,’ Jake moaned.

Racanelli laughed. ‘Yeah, what did I always say, Jake? They’re all pissy and oversensitive. It all has its root in their jealousy and feelings of comparative incompetence.’

‘Shut up, Racanelli. Just shut up,’ Jake ordered.

Racanelli chuckled in amusement. Lucinda folded her arms across her chest. Jake placed a hand on her arm. She shrugged it away and looked out the window away from both of them.

Lucinda wondered why many people felt the need to put someone else down in order to feel good about themselves. She knew that Racanelli’s comments said far more about him than they did about her but she doubted he was even aware of that fact. Yet, still, it rankled. There is nothing more debilitating than belittling by another professional in your field. It felt like betrayal. And it often seemed so short-sighted. No matter what your profession was, an attack on one member of that group brought down the public perception of all of your peers. In this case, the comments were all in-house, so to speak. But she was certain Racanelli did not hesitate to put down any and all non-FBI law enforcement members over dinner, on an elevator or in a million other places where it could be overheard.