Never Cry Mercy (8 page)

"That's right," I said.

"We have to call Vernon." She already had her cell out. The screen flashed on.

I knew it had to be done, and it was probably best that I be there both when the call was made and when the cops showed up. No doubt I would be on the suspect list, given that I'd been staying at the house and no one in the town knew who the hell I was. With the exception of Reese. Vernon already made it clear how much weight that held.

She paused before pressing the send button, looking at me for direction.

"Go ahead," I said. "We need them out here to start working this. The damn storm's gonna make it impossible to get anything from outside."

Reese placed the call. It was quick and professional, with the exception of her having to repeat the main reason for Vernon to get out there as fast as his cruiser could carry him. The shock affected them all.

"You didn't see anything?" she asked.

"I saw lots of stuff," I said. "Doesn't mean I know anything about why this happened or who did it."

"Tell me everything that happened on your way here from my place."

"You interrogating me?" I said.

"No," she said. "But Vernon is likely going to. And I want to hear your answers to make sure you don't incriminate yourself."

"I'm pretty good in the interview room."

"I know. I've interviewed you before. But these people down here, they do things differently. They make it work in their favor, not yours."

"I can handle it."

"Jack, just play along." She grazed my chest with her fingers. "What did you see?"

"I saw that same GMC truck from the garage. I saw the same older guy driving it, and Flagpole Linus sitting in the front seat. Then I backed up a block to avoid them, and came across a group of kids. Ten- and eleven-year-olds, I guess. They were messing with something on the ground. Didn't want me seeing it. One of them got up in my face, and then they ran off with the evidence."

"That could be related." Her cop-brain was working overtime.

"You think a group of pre-teen boys came in here, trashed the living room, killed Herbie, then executed Ingrid? And then, instead of running home or off somewhere to hide, they stand around in plain sight making a fuss over who knows what. And when questioned by an adult, a large one that they'd never seen before, they stand up to me. That makes sense to you?"

"Well, no, not when you put it like that." She ran her hands through her hair. Her shoulders hiked up tight a couple inches as she paced toward the bed and back. "But, I don't know, maybe they saw something?"

"Maybe, but what? I mean, they didn't seem like they witnessed a murder. You and I've both been there. It affects you. Imagine how a kid would take it? Christ, I know I didn't handle it well when Molly was murdered. I wasn't much older than those kids I ran into."

She nodded slightly as she processed it. Then she looked up from the floor. "You know what I want to know?"

"What?"

"Why didn't we hear anything? You should be able to hear a gunshot, let alone two shots, from anywhere in town."

"You know a suppressor would cut down on that."

"Would it?"

"Sure as hell it would, Reese. It's not going to silence the shot like in the movies, but it'd quiet it down to nothing more than a penny clanging into a tin jar. You're not gonna hear that outside."

"Who here would have access to that?"

"Anyone and everyone here could get one. Christ, they could probably make one if they had the right materials. No different than back in New York. If the desire is great enough, there's nothing going to stop them from getting what they want."

Reese walked to the door, stepping wide over the blood stains on the carpet. "There's lots of desire in this town. Too much, perhaps."

Chapter 17

Vernon's cruiser pulled up outside the house the same time we made it back to the kitchen. Staying upstairs any longer would have been a recipe for incrimination. Especially if the killer had been as meticulous as I believed.

Red and blue lights bounced off the walls. Vernon cut the siren, but left the strobe going. He barged through the backdoor. His face was pale. His hands shook. It took a few seconds for him to ask what had happened, and even then, he stammered through the simple question. No doubt homicide was not a skill he'd grown into.

Reese asked me to give the rundown since I'd been the one to make the discovery. I proceeded cautiously, avoiding saying anything that I thought might incriminate myself. I felt my report was textbook. Reese nodded her agreement when I finished.

"You got some investigative experience?" Vernon said.

"A bit," I said, trying to play it off. I didn't want to give him anything to dig with. "Military."

He nodded, glanced over at Reese. "Good enough, I guess."

Through the window I spotted another cruiser. It pulled up alongside Vernon's, blocking the road. Two officers I hadn't seen before stepped out. They looked to be in their mid-thirties. Vernon gave them a quick rundown. Grabbed one to go upstairs with him, and told the other to remain with Reese and me.

"Don't you two go nowhere, OK?" Vernon said.

Reese answered for both of us. "We'll be right here if you need us."

Ten minutes passed. I followed the sound of their footsteps through the investigation. They were in the bedroom now. An unmarked patrol car arrived, driven by an officer in plain clothes. He walked into the house, ignoring me and nodding at Reese. She offered a half-hearted smile in return. A silent ambulance pulled up right after.

"They're gonna move the bodies," I said. "The hell are they doing?"

"They don't have much experience at this," Reese said.

"We have to stop them. Forensics needs a chance to work this."

She laughed. "What forensics?"

"Damned if I know. The highway patrol, then. Something. Somebody has to process the scene before they butcher it."

"We're in a world trapped fifty years in the past, Jack."

"Then I'm going up to stop them."

She grabbed my arm. "Stay here. You'll just make it worse if you go up there. Let them do what they need to do. Not like all that other stuff is gonna make a bit of difference here."

My cheeks and ears burned. But like she said, there was little that could be done. I sensed that Reese wanted to get away from the house, but that wasn't the reason she held me back. I'd only make things worse for myself. After all, I had no doubt that soon I'd be the number one suspect. That's why we changed our story slightly and told Vernon that she came to the house with me after I told her how upset Ingrid had been. Reese wanted to talk to the woman, make sure she was OK, and that nothing serious was going on. It was nearly foolproof, so long as they didn't find those kids. Outside of them, it had been deserted with the storm pressing down.

Vernon came down the stairs, stopping in the threshold between the kitchen and living room. He leaned against the wall, his face pale, brow sweaty. Perhaps he was about to pass out. He brushed silver strands of hair away from his forehead. His hand continued around the back of his head.

"You OK, Vernon?" Reese said.

His head bobbed up and down twice, and then he exited the house. A cool gust of wind blew in. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
 

"Ingrid was his mother's best friend," Reese said.

"Christ," I said.

"His mom passed away fifteen years ago, but Vernon made it a point to check in on Ingrid and Herbie every few months, at least. If they needed anything, or had trouble with anyone, he took care of it."

"So he cared for her."

Reese nodded.

"Did he care about Herbie?"

"Jack." If she could've exhaled fire, I'm sure she would have roasted me right there. "What are you saying? He did this? You honestly think that? He's a cop for Christ's sake."

The ties ran deep. Didn't matter how long she'd been off the force. Didn't matter we were in a small town in Texas. Vernon was a cop. In Reese's mind, he deserved every last benefit of the doubt.

"You know that doesn't mean a damn thing," I said.

Our hushed conversation drew stares from the remaining officers. They knew enough to consider us possible suspects until we were cleared, so they moved closer in an attempt to listen.

"We can't talk about this now." She glared at the plain clothes officer. "Just keep quiet until we're out of here."

Vernon came over and stood back a few feet from us. He said nothing, stared up at the ceiling. Outside, low, dark clouds raced past. I wondered if the storm had more in store for us. How would that affect the investigation?

"Billie," Vernon said, "is it OK if your cousin stays with you for the time being?"

She nodded.

"Good," he said. "Won't be able to stay here anymore, and I'd prefer if he were somewhere I can find him when I'm ready to talk."

"I'm standing right here," I said. "You can talk to me now."

Vernon shot a cross look in my direction. "I'll come get you when the time is right. Don't go nowhere. And I mean nowhere. You only leave that apartment with Billie. In fact, I want you by her side and only her side for the next forty-eight hours."

"How do you know she won't leave?" I said.

"Because you won't let her," he said.

"And how do you know that?"

"I can tell you're the kind of guy that doesn't want an innocent woman getting slapped with an accomplice tag. You'll do everything in your power to keep her from doing something stupid." He moved in front of me. I could smell today's lunch on his breath. Chili dog and a beer, maybe two. "Besides, why run unless you have something to hide?"

"Because sometimes it doesn't matter if you did it or not," I said. "If someone wants an outcome bad enough, nothing is going to stop them from reaching for it."

Vernon nodded slowly. "Get out of here so we can finish up what we have to do. I'll be in touch soon."

Reese grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door. The screen door banged against the side of the house. We stepped out and took the most direct route to her place. The clouds thickened behind us. Streaks of lightening raced across the sky. The next storm was minutes from hitting.

A few blocks into the drive, Reese spoke up. "Jack, you should get out of here. I've never seen Vernon like that. The way he stared at you, it was like he could see you with the gun that killed them."

"You know if I go they'll arrest you. You'll be guilty by association."

"They won't. It's not me they want."

"We already gave them a story that we went to the house together. They're either gonna figure I was trying to hide my tracks after killing them, or that you helped me kill them and we were stupid enough to admit to both being at the scene together."

"I'll tell them that you slipped out in the middle of the night. You can take my car, get someplace you can hop on a bus or train and disappear again. They'll be trying to follow a bullshit identity. It's just gonna lead them to a dead end, right?"

She had allowed her feelings and passion to cloud her judgement. Her words stared logic in the face and laughed at it. For whatever misguided reason, she believed Vernon wouldn't come down on her. How could I get her to understand?
 

"Reese, what's the first thing you would do if you were afraid of someone fleeing?"

"Put a car on them."

"Look back."

She glanced over her shoulder. "What? I don't see anything."

"Look further."

"Dammit," she said after spotting the plain clothes in the unmarked car inching along a perpendicular street two blocks back.

"I'm not going anywhere," I said. "They've got nothing on me. I've survived being tortured. There's no way these guys are gonna coerce me into a false confession. Let's ride this out and try to piece it together ourselves."

"OK. I have little faith they're gonna get it right anyway. We'll see what they do, then go from there, I guess."

She cut through an alley so narrow we wouldn't have made it if someone had set a trash can out there. We emerged a few houses down from her place. It cut about a minute off the drive.

It didn't matter, though. The plain clothes was already parked out front.

Chapter 18

Crystal River, Florida, 1988

Jack crawled toward the opening. The light had faded, but through the hole he could see the final speck of sunlight. He paused a few feet away, closed his eyes and listened. He realized during the first few silent seconds that his anxiety and panic were gone. No matter how hard he thought about it, they didn't return. It was a welcome development for the young man.

Over the years, his father had taught him to think tactically. Whether during chess matches, or their self-defense lessons, Jack had learned to plan several steps ahead, and anticipate the movements of others.

Outside, the strangers called to one another. A series of code words were used to check in. Jack picked out the distinct voices and tallied it up to at least five men. He'd counted three coming across the porch. So that left two. They had probably come around the side of the house, clearing the area. They'd leave at least a man or two out front.

Seven total. Maybe more.

That was a lot for him and his brother to take on. But they didn't have to face them all at once. The guys may have size and training on their side, but they didn't know the land like Sean and Jack. The woods were their territory. Even in the dark they could maneuver without thought. And night fell fast.

"All right, sweet cakes," a man said. "We know you're in there. Just come out and nothing will happen to you or your brothers."

How did he know she had brothers? She'd yelled out
boys, run
, but that didn't necessarily mean
brothers
. Had they been scoping out the house for some time? After all, the men showed up the night that Jack's parents were away. Why? To rob them? That would make sense, except for the fact that several of the men were outside now, where Sean, Jack and Molly were. If they wanted to rob the place, it would've made sense to let the kids run and then ransack the house. They weren't there to steal. They were hunting.