Frozen Past (17 page)

“We have to do something,” Ellie whispered. “He’s going to kill him!”

Luke hesitated. He wasn’t sure what the kid was doing, though it was looking like he was being drawn toward the house by something or someone they could not see. “John, has he moved?” Luke said turning away from the street trying to keep his voice from carrying.

“Still there,” John said. Just then Ellie screamed, jumped up and ran toward the house.

“Crap!” Luke said. “Ellie! Stop!” The biker kid had disappeared and Luke watched, frozen, as Ellie ran full speed toward the house. She was screaming at the top of her lungs.

“You leave him alone!” She shouted frantically. “Don’t you dare hurt him! You leave him alone!”

Luke found his legs and started running after her. He shouted into his earpiece. “John! Call 911, now! Send them here. Hurry!”

Jimmy was streaking across the yards of the houses on Luke’s left, legs pumping, arms swinging, and Luke put on a burst of speed so they would get to Ellie at the same time. Luke saw the biker kid burst out of the bushes up against the house and stumble toward his bike. His eyes were huge and terrified as his head swiveled toward Ellie who was sprinting toward him. Suddenly, the killer erupted from the same bushes and sped toward the kid as he knelt to pick up his bike. Ellie was only a few feet away and Luke was surprised she didn’t even slow down. She threw herself at the killer’s running body, slamming into it and knocking him off balance. She bounced off of him and fell at his feet.

The killer looked stunned for a moment and then roared in anger as he bent over and picked her up with one hand. She kicked and screamed, swinging her fists at his arms, but they had little effect on the man. He was huge, like an Ultimate Cage Fighter. Nothing seemed to faze him.

Luke and Jimmy got to him at the same time and Luke didn’t even think. He tackled the man as Jimmy did the same. Ellie fell from his grasp as they drove him onto his back. Luke pummeled the man’s face and neck while Jimmy stood and started kicking him in the side. The killer’s face was so white it shown in the dark. Every time Luke’s fist struck his face, it felt like his skin was stretching and he couldn’t even make a scratch. It was then Luke realized he was wearing a rubber mask.

The killer grunted and grabbed Luke by the hair, flinging him to the side like he weighed nothing. The pain was nothing like he had ever felt before. It was like having a thousand angry wasps sting you on your scalp all at the same time. He hit the ground with a jarring thud and couldn’t catch his breath. He watched, lying on his side, air trying to move in and out of his lungs, but it felt like he was breathing through a straw. He could do nothing as the killer swung his feet around in an arc and cut Jimmy’s legs out from under him. The killer stood and pulled an object from his pocket and Luke saw the glint of metal in the light of the streetlamp and knew it was a knife.

Ellie screamed. “No! You bastard! Leave them alone!” She flung herself at him again and began pounding on his chest and arms, but he didn’t even flinch. He bent over, grabbed Jimmy by the hair and pulled him up. He raised the knife toward Jimmy’s face and that’s when the gun fired.

The killer’s head jerked up and he dropped Jimmy to the ground. He didn’t even hesitate. William Smith turned, ran faster than Luke would have imagined, and disappeared around the pool house, heading for his car. Mr. Lolly ran up holding a pistol in his hand.

“You kids alright?!”

Just then a siren could be heard.

Chapter 31

Victoria was in the back of the ambulance and Jaxon was feeling a little better after they had given him a muscle relaxer for his back spasms. Apparently the blast had pulled some muscles in his back as he was thrown from the scene.

The place was crawling with local cops and federal agents, and the media circus had arrived, though they had not been allowed access to the site, or given any information. The FBI was running the show and the Chicago office was currently in charge. Jaxon had been on the phone with Holt back in Washington and Victoria had even spoken to him briefly, but she was in no condition to take charge. An agent named Sal Wilmer was heading up the task force at the moment.

Holt had been somewhat cordial with Jaxon, even after being informed his girlfriend had sustained some injuries in the blast. He only touched briefly on her condition and then moved on with the business at hand. Jaxon couldn’t help but think Holt was putting on a show for him and he could tell Victoria was somewhat hurt by her lover’s lack of concern.

“Are you alright?” Jaxon asked her after the paramedic stepped out for some air.

She nodded but remained silent. Her hair was still matted with blood, but her face had been cleaned and a bandage plastered to her forehead, blood seeping into it, showing through the whiteness. She reached up and gingerly touched it, wincing. She squirmed.

“Any word on the SWAT team?” she finally asked.

“No survivors, if that’s what you mean. Just you and I.”

She looked somber at the news but held it together. Jaxon knew how she felt. She was in charge and would take the brunt of the accusations and questions when the investigation into the incident began. Jaxon felt responsible, not only for Sally’s death, but for all the players in tonight’s debacle. He had underestimated this guy and hadn’t reacted quickly enough to the clues he had given them. He should have called it off as soon as he received the text message.

She read his mind. “Stop beating yourself up,” she said. “We both missed it.”

“She was my partner.”

Victoria looked into his eyes and he saw something there he hadn’t realized still existed. She reached out her hand, turned it palm up and wiggled her fingers. It was a gesture so familiar, yet so far gone from his mind all these years that it took him by surprise. She used to do that to him when he’d had a particularly bad day and she used to do it to Michael when he needed a pick me up. He couldn’t help it. He smiled, reached for her hand and clasped her fingers in his. She closed her eyes and put her head back.

One of the FBI agents stuck his head in the door. “Detective Jennings? I think you should see this.”

Jaxon stood, let her hand go and followed the young agent toward the wreckage. The fires had all been put out and the gas line that had shot flames into the night sky had been closed off making the area reasonably safe. The house had pretty much disintegrated leaving the rooms and layout of the structure indistinguishable from the rest of the refuse and scraps strewn throughout the area. A large rectangular box was the only thing left standing mostly intact, and the agent was guiding Jaxon toward it. As he got closer he could see there was a door into the box, which stood eight feet square and was built of some kind of thin aluminum sheeting. A few agents were coming in and out of the box carrying various items wrapped in plastic. Jaxon realized it was a freezer.

The inside of the freezer must be thawing because the items the men were carrying from the box dripped water. He stopped one of the agents and asked what was in the plastic.

“Parts,” he said.

Jaxon must have had a funny look on his face because the man explained. “This is a dog’s head. That’s another dog’s head, and Sheila there has a cat’s head.”

“How many?” Jaxon asked.

“At least thirty animals.”

“Anything else?”

The man nodded. “Are you Jaxon?”

“Yes.” Jaxon felt like his voice was coming from somewhere else.

“There’s something in there for you.” The agent turned and carried his package to a waiting evidence van and Jaxon approached the entrance of the freezer and stepped in.

On the right were five shelves stacked up from floor to ceiling. A man and a woman were going through the various ‘packages’ and they looked up when he stepped in. Neither one said a word. On the back wall was a small table with a single plastic baggy laying on it. Jaxon moved through the cold air as if in slow motion. He couldn’t feel his feet touching the surface of the freezer but he knew his legs were moving him forward because the table was growing larger. A hand came into his view and he realized it was his own. He didn’t want that hand anywhere near the bag, but it seemed to be operating on its own. He watched as if from some far off place as the fingers gripped the bag and picked it up, bringing it closer to his face. There was a piece of freezer tape across the plastic with black lettering spelling some words that Jaxon’s brain could not decipher at first. Snapping himself out of his fog, he concentrated on the lettering. As he read, his body seemed to throb from the force of the words. They were like a physical thing and he couldn’t wrench his eyes away from the small package.

Jaxon.
These are not Malcom Switzer’s. They are mine. I return them to you now.

His hands still took on a life of their own as they worked the Ziploc on the baggy, though his mind screamed from some distant place for him to stop. His fingers spread the plastic open and inside were two perfectly preserved ears. A right and a left. Small ears, like that of a child. He heard a gasp behind him and turned to find Victoria with her hand over her mouth and her eyes boring into what he held in his hand.

She whispered, “Michael,” and sank to the floor.

Chapter 32

Luke sat with Jimmy and Ellie on the curb sipping a Gatorade and watching as the police and rescue personnel moved about the area. John and his mom were standing next to them. She looked to be in worse shape than any of the kids. A cop named Stansfield was in charge and he was currently on the phone talking to someone. The conversation looked strained and Luke could hear Stansfield cursing into the cell phone.

“I don’t give a shit! You get Jaxon on the phone,” Stansfield yelled. “I know he’s in Indiana, but he has a cell phone, right? Just do it!” He closed the phone and stared at Luke and his group.

Mr. Lolly was talking to another officer but Luke couldn’t make out anything being said. Stansfield walked over and paced in front of the group.  “So, let me get this straight,” he said. “You kids tracked this William Smith guy here using his cell phone GPS position and then called us? That about right?”

Luke nodded.

“How do you know it’s the killer?”

“It’s a long story,” Luke said.

“I have all night,” Stansfield said, but the way he was pacing made Luke feel that was not the case.

Luke explained the best he could and twenty minutes later Stansfield knew all they knew. He had a few questions.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone this?”

“He said he would kill us,” Ellie said.

Stansfield nodded. “How did you get his cell phone number?”

Luke paused. “I’d rather not say.”

“Well, I’d rather you did say. This is important.”

“I don’t want my friend in trouble. You can use the software he gave me, but I’m not telling who gave it to me.” Luke looked at Ellie and Jimmy and he could see they agreed with him.

Stansfield ran his hands through his hair exasperated and then his phone rang. He held up his finger to them and answered the phone.

Luke turned to Ellie and said, “I don’t want Q in on this. If the killer finds out, he’ll be after him.”

“I know,” she said. “I won’t say anything. They can torture me and I won’t talk.”

He smiled at her and she grabbed his hand. “We saved that boy.”

“We almost got killed,” he said.

“But you rescued me from him.”

“Only because I wasn’t thinking.”

“Are you guys gonna kiss and stuff,” Jimmy said. “Because I’m gonna puke if you do.”

Ellie leaned over and kissed Jimmy on the cheek. He stared at her for a second and then grinned from ear to ear.

“Alright, you can love on him if you want,” Jimmy said.

She leaned up against Luke and he stroked her soft hair, thinking how close he had been to losing her. He didn’t like thinking about that.

Stansfield hung up and said, “Alright, Officer Hinton’s gonna drive all of you to your houses. I want you to stay in them. Do not leave for any reason unless you are accompanied by your parents or a police officer. Detective Jennings will be over to see you when he gets back tomorrow.” He pointed at Luke. “I’m coming to your house and you’re going to show me this software. If we can get him tonight, I’ll feel much better about everything.”

* * *

Luke was in his room with Stansfield and the computer program was up and running, but Smith’s cell phone must have been off, because nothing was showing on the map. Luke was worried the killer may have figured things out.

“I need a copy of this program,” Stansfield said. “I bet the FBI doesn’t have anything this good. You sure you don’t want to tell me who gave you this?”

Luke shook his head. “The best I can say is I’ll talk to him and see if he wants to talk to you guys.”

“And he has another program that let you decode the cell number the perp was calling you from?”

“Yep.”

“That would be worth a million bucks to us. You need to convince your buddy to cough it up. Might save some lives.”

“I’ll see what he says.”

Stansfield nodded and turned to go. “Remember, stay inside until we nab this guy. He’s gotta’ be pretty pissed at all of you right now. Squad car will be parked out front to watch the house. You’ll be safe here.”

Luke wasn’t so sure about that, but he didn’t say anything. Stansfield went downstairs and he could hear murmurs through the floor as the cop talked to his parents. Luke wondered how Ellie was doing.

* * *

The Citation 500 cruised at thirty three thousand feet and barely a ripple coursed through the aluminum skin as the jet made its way back to Virginia. Jaxon sat, tense, as the smooth air cradled Victoria in her seat and she snored from the effects of the pain killers she had been given back in Indiana. He stared at her, unable to sleep himself, the events of the night too fresh in his mind.

Vick’s hair was fanned out over her arm and the dark strands stood out starkly against her pale skin. He remembered a vision from his marriage with her sleeping just as she was, a wispy smile on her lips, hair spread out around her and her bare skin glowing in the soft candle light. It had been one of those rare evenings when Michael was out of the house at his grandparents and they had an evening to themselves. He had drunk too much and she took advantage of him. Not that he had complained or anything. He had watched her sleep afterwards and felt his life could not get any better. He had been right. It had gotten worse. A lot worse.

He turned and looked out the small window into the night and thought of his dead son. Malcom Switzer had professed his innocence to Jaxon over and over again. Pleaded with him as he pointed the gun at the killer’s head, two of his buddies trying to keep Jaxon from shooting Switzer the night they took him down. It hadn’t mattered to Jaxon. He didn’t hear him. Wouldn’t hear him. He pulled the trigger just the same and as his friends and workmates wrestled Jaxon to the ground, only one of the bullets found its mark. In Switzer’s thigh. He had screamed like a woman and it had made Jaxon smile.

Now, he had to wrap his mind around the reality that Malcom Switzer had been right. Or at least it appeared he was right. The two frozen ears were on this very plane, along with the various animal parts, kept in the hold, under ice, awaiting the FBI’s forensic lab to analyze them and determine who they belonged to. Jaxon didn’t need the FBI to tell him that. He knew they belonged to Michael.

His anger and guilt had been aimed at the wrong man for so many years and apparently his aim was as bad as the night he shot Switzer. Switzer was a cold and brutal killer, Jaxon knew, but he wasn’t Michael’s cold and brutal killer. This new man…no…man wasn’t a word he could put next to him…this new beast was killing kids and stalking Jaxon’s mind. He had to be stopped. There would be none of Jaxon’s ‘friends’ around this time. No one to influence his aim. He would make sure of that. This asshole was going to die a slow and painful death in front of Jaxon’s eyes and nobody would be able to help him.

“What are you thinking?” Victoria’s voice startled him out of his thoughts.

He turned toward her. “Just imagining this guy dying slowly in front of me as I wrap my fingers around his neck and squeeze.”

She searched his face and yet he couldn’t read her reaction one way or the other. She sighed and finally said, “I’ll hold him down.”