Authors: Richard C Hale
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Police Procedurals, #Crime, #Mystery, #Thriller, #Romance, #Mystery & Crime
June turned back to her son. “Twenty seven years. He would be thirty nine now.” A single tear tracked down her face and then she began to sob. Sally went to her and put an arm around her. Jaxon knew exactly how she felt.
Chapter 22
That evening, everyone was there, even Patrick. Luke wasn’t sure if Patrick was still sore at them and he guessed it didn’t matter. This was more important than any petty differences they may have had.
All the kids knew about most of the stuff, but the Facebook friend William Smith, and the text messages and phone calls Luke and Ellie had gotten were all new to them. ‘George,’ the pool dummy, drew a few laughs but most were shocked at how the dummy had been traded for a real dead boy.
“That must have been a shocker for you guys,” Ralph said.
“I about crapped my pants,” John said.
Luke’s older sister, Deana, looked mad. “I think you guys are stupid,” she said. “The police need to know about this and you idiots are keeping it from them.”
“Didn’t you hear a single word I said?” Luke asked. “He threatened Ellie and me, and said that if we told anyone, he would kill us. Don’t you think we would have done something by now if we didn’t have that hanging over our heads?”
“The police can protect you,” Deana said.
“Like they protected Paul?” Alan shot back.
“Paul was out all by himself. No one could have helped him,” Deana said.
“That’s right,” Luke said. “Paul was out all by himself and that’s what we need to make sure doesn’t happen to the rest of us. We stick together. Nobody goes anywhere alone. Nobody talks about what we know unless it’s with each other. Nobody keeps any secrets from the rest of the group. Something happens, you tell us.”
“I still don’t like it,” Deana said.
“Deana, we’re trusting you,” Ellie said. “Luke didn’t want to tell you all because he thought the group couldn’t keep it to themselves. Please don’t prove him right. We need help, and we wanted to make sure everybody else was safe. I convinced him to break the silence, but if you involve any adults at this point, you could be hurting your brother. And me.”
Deana was quiet for a minute, then finally said, “Alright, I’ll keep quiet for now. But if I feel like you guys are being dumber than normal, I’ll involve the police.”
“Come to us first,” Luke said. “If we go to the police, it will be a group decision. Ok?”
Everybody agreed, even Deana.
“Now that’s out of the way,” Jimmy said, “let’s play.”
Luke thought it had been the best game they had played in a long time.
Chapter 23
Luke, Ellie, Jimmy, and John were always the first at the pool in the morning. It was their job to open up. Jimmy pulled the keys from his gym bag and unlocked the gate. They split up with Luke and John opening the locker rooms, while Jimmy checked the pump house and Ellie started working on the lane dividers.
Luke was singing in the locker room, the echo creating a cool sound, when he heard Ellie scream.
“Ellie!” he shouted, and ran out of the locker room onto the deck. She was standing at the edge of the pool, one hand holding a lane divider and the other clasped over her mouth. In the pool was a boy. He was resting on the bottom at the six foot mark and the water was tinged pink around him. As Luke walked closer, he could see the body was missing its head. It was floating a few feet out, face up. The eyes were half open and the mouth was set in a gasp with water sloshing in and out of it.
“Ah crap” Jimmy said, kneeling at the edge of the pool.
Luke stood next to Ellie who turned and buried her face in his shoulder, crying.
“I think it’s Jason Margot,” Luke said.
“Damn,” John whispered, coming up behind them.
Jimmy turned and threw up all over the deck.
* * *
Jaxon turned to the swim coach, Will Francis, and asked, “So the kids open up every morning?”
“Yes. They get everything ready for practice,” Will said.
“Does anyone else have a key?”
“Yes, several people do, including the head lifeguard, snack shop manager, and the management company.”
“What time do the kids usually show up?”
“Probably around 7:15. Practice starts at 7:30.”
“Right. Thank you Mr. Francis. Please help keep all the kids out of the area for a while. The pool will be closed for a couple of days while we gather evidence.”
Jaxon walked over to where Harrison and his little group were sitting. “You guys keep showing up whenever something happens. If I didn’t have in my possession proof you didn’t do anything, I’d swear you were involved. You’re lucky I have that proof.”
He knelt in front of Ellie. “Are you alright?”
She nodded. He could tell she wasn’t, but couldn’t do anything about it. Sally hadn’t arrived yet, but when she did, he’d have her talk to the girl.
“Think you guys can talk about it?” he asked them all.
He watched them all nod.
“Who wants to go first?”
“I found him, so I guess I will,” Ellie said.
He listened as she went through the trauma of finding the decapitated boy. The story was pretty consistent with what the coach had described and then what the boys told him next. He felt bad for them. They seemed to be getting caught up in a lot of stuff kids their age shouldn’t see. His cell phone rang and he looked at the number expecting it to be Sally. It read ‘unavailable’ and the number showed up as 000-000-0000.
He answered it. “Jaxon.”
“Hello Detective.” The voice was grating and high pitched. It had a metallic quality to it and he could tell it was being electronically altered. It drew out the word ‘Detective,’ mocking him.
“Who is this?” Jaxon asked.
“Did my little gift help?”
“What gift would that be?”
“The picture, of course. You really didn’t think the animals were meant for you, did you?”
“Not really. But we had already identified the boy yesterday morning.”
“So you say. I was becoming worried you would never honor him. Five months is a long time to find someone, isn’t it Detective?”
The voice was hurting his ear. The way he liked to drag out his title caused a kind of feedback through the speaker of the phone and he had to pull it away from his head. He saw Sally walk up and he frantically signaled for her. She walked over briskly.
He put his hand over the phone. “Call downtown,” he whispered to Sally, “Have them set up a trace on my cell. Hurry!”
She took out her phone and moved away.
“Still there Detective?”
“Yes. Who are you?”
“Come now, Jaxon. We don’t have much time. Can’t you think of something more useful to ask me?”
For some reason, Jaxon could think of only one thing. “Why?”
“That’s better. That wasn’t too hard was it?”
Jaxon remained silent.
“Because I can, Detective.”
“Why are you calling me?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“Help me.”
“There you go. You just answered that question yourself.”
“Where are you?”
“Tell Winston I like her yellow blouse.”
Jaxon’s eyes snapped up as his heart leapt into his throat.
He’s here!
The line went dead.
* * *
They searched the area and finally found a battery powered web cam mounted to a lamp post at the southern end of the pool complex. It was the kind of video camera hunters used in the woods to track game.
Jaxon found out an hour later the image was uploaded to a server run by the manufacturer of the web cam and the video was accessed through a log-in page for each individual user. No personal information was kept on the users. All you needed was the serial number for the hunting cam to access the website. He would have his I.T. guys see if they could pull any information on where he was accessing the server from.
“Any luck with the cell phone?” Jaxon asked Sally.
“Nothing useful,” she said. “The call was placed using an internet based phone service. Basically you can call from anywhere in the world and pick your number you want displayed on the caller I.D. The internet company is based out of Moscow. Good luck trying to get any information out of the Russian Mob.”
“I think we may need to get the FBI involved. They may be able to get some information we can’t access. I’ll call Holt in Washington today.”
Emory Holt was a FBI agent out of D.C. who handled the District of Columbia and the surrounding counties. Jaxon hated involving the FBI, but he felt he had no choice at this point. Things were getting out of hand and they needed some help.
“Your call, Boss. I know we need help, but they will come in here and take over.”
“I’ll try and approach it from an informational stand point first. See if he’ll stay out of it for now,” Jaxon said.
“Knowing Holt, he’ll want in,” she said.
Jaxon shrugged. What could he do? Kids were dying.
A commotion at the entrance of the pool caught their attention.
“I don’t care sir,” a patrolmen was saying, loudly, “this is a crime scene and I can’t let you pass.”
“I know that. Just get a message to Detectives Jennings and Winston that Burt Lolly needs to see them. I have some more video. They’ll definitely want to see it.”
Jaxon walked up with Sally and said, “Mr. Lolly. What have you got?”
“Everything,” Mr. Lolly said, his face pale and troubled. He had the look of someone with information he really didn’t want to possess. “And you won’t believe it.”
Chapter 24
Luke and Ellie were at her house up in her room. She was quietly crying into his neck, her hot, wet tears slipping down his shoulder as he held her tight. He felt on the verge of some emotional breakdown himself, but was doing his best to hold it together for her.
They had left Jimmy and John at their house, saying they would meet up later and talk to everyone else. So far, nobody was panicking and Luke attributed this to the fact Jason Margot was not in their little group. Selfish, maybe, but they couldn’t protect everyone, could they?
He was beginning to have doubts about their lack of involvement with the police and though their pact between each other only went so far, Jason Margot still did not deserve to die. Could they have prevented his death had they gone to Jaxon and Winston? Probably not, but maybe he wouldn’t feel so bad right now if they had.
Ellie lifted her head up off his shoulder and looked into his eyes. The pain he saw there bore right into his heart and his breath caught in his throat as he felt her hand touch his face.
I’m not going to lose it,
he said to himself.
I’m not going to lose it
. He had to look away as he felt his eyes well up. Apparently she wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. She turned his face back toward her.
“Look at me,” she said. A single tear slipped down her cheek, but her voice was strong. “We have to stop this, now. I can’t live with another death hanging over my head. We go to the group today and then we go to the police.”
He couldn’t find his voice. If he opened his mouth to speak, she would hear the weakness in it and he couldn’t let that happen. He needed to be strong. He nodded his head, trying to buy a little more time to get himself under control.
“You’re agreeing with me?” she asked, pulling back a bit and searching his face.
He waited a beat. “We need to have the group vote,” he finally said, his voice sounding stronger than he expected. “We all need to decide.”
“Why? It’s our problem. He hasn’t threatened them, only us.”
“We made an agreement with them. And besides, maybe someone will have some better advice.”
“You’re going to try and convince them to keep silent, aren’t you?” Another tear trickled down her cheek and her lip trembled ever so slightly. “You’re going to fight me on this?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t risk anything going wrong and her, somehow, ending up on the wrong side of all this.
Her face fell again and she looked away. He stared at her, his heart breaking in his chest. He felt like he was betraying her, but so much more was at stake. He loved her with every fiber in his body and he didn’t care who else got hurt, as long as it wasn’t her.
She stood. “You’re being selfish,” she said, angrily wiping away her tears. “You’re thinking only of yourself.”
“How can you say that?” he asked, but feared her answer.
“I know you. You’re thinking only of saving me,” she said, her voice cracking, tears streaming down her face, “not of anybody else who could get hurt. Well, I can’t let you. You’ll destroy us, don’t you see? I can’t live with him taking someone else’s life to save mine and I’ll hate you for letting it happen. Do you understand? I’ll hate you if you let it happen!”
He stood and went to her, grabbing and holding her tight. She resisted and softly beat on his chest, then succumbed and fell against him sobbing. A single tear fell from his face as his world came apart.
* * *
Burt Lolly loaded up the video while his wife Marie, brought them all some coffee.
“Honey,” Burt said. “I don’t think you should see this. It’s pretty upsetting.”
She nodded at him and said, “Let me know if you need anything else.” And she left the room.
“I pulled last night’s video and watched as soon as I saw all the commotion this morning. You two may want to sit down.”
“We’re alright, Mr. Lolly. Go ahead and show us what you have.”
“Burt,” he said. “Please call me Burt.” He hit play.
The screen showed the front yard again just as the masked individual entered the area from the left carrying what Jaxon presumed was the boy. He paused in front of the yard, turned and looked, facing the camera. He actually waved.
“Bastard,” Burt whispered.
He was wearing the same clothing and had on the white mask they had seen in the earlier surveillance video, but no other distinguishing marks or clothing could be made out. The boy was over his shoulder, his head hanging down his back, limp and still. Jaxon could not tell if he was alive or dead.
The masked individual approached the fence and wrestled the boy over it, following after him, up and over the chain link. He dragged the body toward the pool and left him, disappearing from view for a moment. He returned a few minutes later with something in his hand. It looked to be long and metallic.
The video jumped. It now showed the masked man back on this side of the fence jumping up and down in the road waving his arms. He stopped suddenly and then climbed back over the fence.
“He was triggering the camera again,” Burt said, quietly. “It timed out and the sensor doesn’t reach all the way inside the pool.” Burt turned and looked at them. “He wanted us to see this part, so he climbed back over the fence and jumped up and down to get the camera going again.”
Jaxon and Sally remained silent. He had a feeling what was coming.
The masked individual approached the body again and turned toward the camera. It was a little difficult to see from the distance and the chain link fence was making it even harder, but when he brought his arm up, a glint of light shining off of the metallic object Jaxon now knew to be a machete, there was no mistaking what was going to happen. Burt looked away and Sally gasped as the machete was brought down again and again until it finished its evil purpose. He then picked up the boys head and held it high above him, shaking it at the camera. The frame jumped again and the scene was empty, the killer finished with his show, the night still and silent in the aftermath. Jaxon shook with anger as Sally hung her head.
“We have to get this son-of-a-bitch,” she said. “Today.”
* * *
Ellie’s cell phone rang and she pulled away from Luke reaching for it. She looked at the caller I.D. and her face tightened.
She angrily punched the button with her finger and yelled, “What do you want, you sick bastard!”
The eerie voice came out of the speakerphone, laughing. “I thought you would be thanking me,” he said. “I did you a favor, right? Your little friend will never hurt or bother you again. Ever.”
“Why?!” Ellie said. “Why would you do this? He never did a thing to you.”
“Oh—but he did, my dear. He did. He should have known better than to damage my ultimate treasure.” The voice turned angry now. “Nobody will damage you but me. And only when it’s time.”
“Leave us alone, you sicko!” she yelled.
More laughter and then silence. She was breathing heavy, her face red and tight and her fist bunched in a ball. Luke thought she was going to throw the phone through the window.
Suddenly the voice said, “Remember, tell no one or I make it look like your friend John did it. No one will be able to help him then. Ask your cop buddies what they found on the body. You’ll see.” He hung up.
She looked shocked. “He knows,” she said and sagged onto her bed.
Luke could not figure out how this asshole knew every move they made. It was like he had some supernatural powers or something. How could he have known they talked to the police? If he knew that, then he must know they hadn’t really told the cops anything.
“We have to be careful,” Luke said. “He seems to know everything.”
She looked into his eyes again, frowned and slowly turned away. “There must be some way…” she said.
“I’ll think of something,” Luke said, but felt little confidence he would.
Suddenly, she grabbed his face, searched his eyes and then kissed him hard. He reached out and held her against him, but then she pulled away.
“Whatever happens,” she said. “I love you.”
“El, what are you saying?”
“Everything,” she said. “Everything that matters to me anyway. I love you and that’s all there is.” She smiled and he felt better.
* * *
After getting a copy of the video from Burt Lolly, Jaxon and Sally paid a visit to the J. Edgar Hoover building on Pennsylvania Ave in downtown Washington D.C. Having been there many times in the past, the building was still something Jaxon hated, not only for its Brutalist style of architecture, the huge concrete structure taking up an entire city block, but for the memories it wrung from his much maligned brain regarding his son’s murder and the subsequent investigation.
As a victim of another notorious serial killer, Michael had been the catalyst for the FBI’s involvement and Emory Holt’s rapid advancement to section chief. The then twelve year old Michael, had suffered at the hands of Malcom Switzer, and with the public outcry at the brutal slaying, the FBI felt they needed to get involved. Jaxon’s Department had gotten nowhere on the case and Holt had come in and broke it wide open.
Of course, Jaxon had remained outside the investigation of his own son. At least officially, but when they arrested Switzer at his sleazy, Herndon trailer, Jaxon had been there and it had taken the entire force to keep him at bay. Jaxon had still managed to shoot the killer in the leg. He survived and was now on death row, awaiting his execution for the murders of Michael and five other victims of his sick and demented mind. Jaxon would be there, front row and center, when the time came, to help him on his way. If only they would let him pull the switch.
Jaxon’s ex-wife was another problem. She had been a police officer in Fairfax with him, but after their son’s murder, she could not hide the blame she felt Jaxon deserved and had terminated their relationship along with her employment with the Fairfax County Police Department. She had then enlisted Holt’s help in securing her a position with the Bureau. After that it had only been a matter of time before she and Holt became a couple. Victoria Elliot was here, and the hatred he believed she felt toward him was something he could feel oozing from the walls as they entered the main floor.
“Detectives Jennings and Winston to see special agent Holt,” Jaxon told the receptionist.
“Is he expecting you?” she asked.
“No.”
She nodded and picked up the phone.
The main lobby was decorated in early 1970’s government. The furniture looked new, just not new in design. Framed pictures of the President and Vice President loomed over the reception desk while previous Bureau Directors trailed off in either direction. Silence permeated the area with the exception of a keyboard clicking somewhere and Sally sniffling as they waited.
“Agent Holt will be with you shortly,” the receptionist said, and indicated they were to sit until he arrived. Jaxon stood and stared at the pictures. Sally sat in a pale green, plastic, upholstered chair that looked far from comfortable. She fidgeted around in it for a few minutes, then stood up again.
“Maybe if you turned it upside-down with its little stubby legs sticking up,” Jaxon said, “you might be able to relax in it.”
She smiled at him. “This place rocks!”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Emory Holt said from behind Jaxon’s back.
Jaxon turned around and took in his old friend’s appearance. Taller than Jaxon, Holt’s greying hair was neatly trimmed tight around his ears and his gold, wire rimmed glasses sat down on the edge of his nose. His grey eyes conveyed a warmth Jaxon had a hard time appreciating. Holt smiled and extended his hand. Jaxon took it.
“Jaxon, good to see you. Detective Winston,” Holt grabbed Sally’s hand and pumped it once.
“Special Agent Holt. How are you?” Sally asked.
“Fine, fine. I hear you two are having a little trouble down there. Finally decided to bring in the experts, huh?” He laughed, but his humor failed to elicit the correct response from Jaxon. Sally smiled.
“Not yet, Holt,” Jaxon said. “We’re just looking for information and hoping you could give us a hand with it.”
“Whatever you need. Come on. Let’s go up to my office.”
They entered the elevator by the reception desk and rode up three floors to Holt’s office. He sat behind his desk and gestured to two chairs across from him. As they sat, Jaxon glanced around, his eyes settling on the framed picture of his ex-wife in a formal dress beside a tuxedoed Holt. Holt saw him looking and then pretended to miss it.
“So, what can the FBI do for Fairfax County’s finest?” Holt asked.
Jaxon pulled out a printout and handed it across the desk to Holt. “We need to see if you can track where this call originated from. It was routed through a Voice Over Internet Protocol, VoIP, phone service called Cobra Call based in Moscow.”