River's Edge (28 page)

V
ince Barr’s background only added to Cade’s suspicion. The man had a history of blowing mediocre stories into spectacular headlines, but he’d failed at getting much attention out of any of them. Cade did a search for Barr’s name on the Internet, and amid the hundreds of articles Barr had written, Cade found a few about the writer, himself.

“Take a look at this.” Cade turned his monitor so McCormick could see it. “Here’s an AP report that came out an hour or so ago about the Lisa Jackson case and the media coverage of it. They’re talking about how a local case turned into a national drama, and they quote Barr. He says, ‘The timing was perfect for this case to break. No war news, no terrorist attacks, no hurricanes, no interesting politics filling the news. So when this attractive woman is killed and her husband is the immediate suspect, it can’t help pique national interest. And as awful as this sounds, even the murder of Carson Graham couldn’t have come
at a more perfect time. For those of us writing about it, it’s like a dream come true.”

McCormick rubbed his hand over his shaven head. “Okay, so let me get this straight. Didn’t Sam Sullivan tell us that he went to Vince Barr with the rumor of Ben’s affair?”

“Yes he did. Said Vince wasn’t interested in local politics.”

“But maybe that was the springboard Vince needed to set up the perfect story. One that he could help unfold, so he could give the national news shows a play-by-play.”

Cade couldn’t believe they’d been chasing down the wrong trails. “So you think he mulled this alleged affair over in his mind, then decided that it really would be a story if the candidate’s wife turned up dead?”

“So he makes it happen—and he’s on top of the story from Day One.”

“What about Carson Graham?”

“I think he witnessed it, just like Melanie told us he did, and he seized the opportunity to blackmail the guy. Hence, the thirty thousand dollars that showed up in his account.”

“Question is, did thirty thousand dollars leave Barr’s account?”

“We’ll soon see.” He pulled up the man’s bank records and studied them until he came to May 16. “Interesting. Looks like he had several accounts. A 401(k), a savings account, a couple of CDs. Pulled a little from each of them that day. And you’ll never guess what it totals.”

“Thirty K?”

“You got it.”

McCormick drew in a deep, ragged breath. “Unbelievable.”

Cade nodded. “So Graham agrees to keep quiet, and Barr agrees to use his own immediate fame to boost the reputation and notoriety of the psychic. They scratch each other’s backs.”

“Until we were about to bring Graham in for the murder. Then he was afraid Graham would cave. But how did he know we were going to do that? The timing was perfect. He got him before he could spill his guts to us.”

Cade thought back over the night at Hanover House, the moment he’d realized that Carson Graham was having an affair with Melanie Adams. Sheila had been talking more loudly than she needed to…

“Vince Barr heard Sheila telling me about Graham’s affair. He was at Jonathan’s party. He knew that information raised a red flag in my mind, and he probably saw the writing on the wall.”

“So he beat us to Carson Graham’s house.”

“Looks like it.”

McCormick handed Cade his cane. “I think we have one more arrest to make.”

T
hrough Vince Barr’s office at the
Observer,
they were able to locate him at the local NBC affiliate. He was gearing up to do a satellite-linked segment on MSNBC.

Cade and McCormick hoped to take him peacefully, without making a huge media circus out of it.

But Vince
was
the circus, and he wasn’t ready to give up the center ring. The moment he saw Cade and McCormick coming in, he headed toward them. “Chief Cade, I’d love to interview you during my segment. How about coming on with me?”

Cade thought of acquiescing, getting on national television, and asking the man where he was on the morning of Lisa’s death and how he knew about the telephone cord. He imagined reading him his rights and cuffing him as the cameras rolled. Vince Barr wanted to be famous—well, this would be news for days.

“Vince, this isn’t a social visit. We’re here to question you about where you were on the morning of May 16.”

The smug look on Barr’s face faded, and he frowned. “What do you mean where I was? The morning of…Lisa Jackson’s murder?” Fear flashed across his face. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding. No, you can’t be serious.”

“Where were you, Vince?”

Vince took another two steps back and almost tripped over a cord. “I was out doing a story. I don’t remember which one.”

Cade had expected as much. “Are you sure you weren’t out
creating
a story?”

He laughed nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is ludicrous.”

“Vince, how did you know that Lisa was strangled with a telephone cord?”

His face turned white. The young blonde standing on the set looked fascinated, and one of the cameramen got interested, too.

“It was at the scene of the crime. In the car. I took pictures—didn’t you see them?”

“There was no telephone cord in those pictures. No one had any way of knowing about that cord, except for the killer.”

Cade wasn’t sure, but he thought the cameraman had turned on his camera and was rolling now as Vince began to back further away.

“It was leaked to me. One of your own men told me about it.”

“No one leaked it,” Cade said. “You had inside information. Carson Graham knew, and that’s why he’s dead now. Where did you get the thirty thousand dollars to keep him quiet, Vince?”

He’d almost expected the man to break and run for it, but instead, he froze, staring at Cade, a stricken look on his face. A calm seemed to settle over him as he glanced back toward the set and realized the camera was rolling.

Vince was already miked up, so he turned to the camera. “As you can see, ladies and gentlemen, I’m here with Cape Refuge’s finest, who’ve found a creative way of shutting up the press.”

Cade glanced at the monitors on the wall, and realized that MSNBC had halted their normal reporting and was playing the
unfolding scene. If Cade arrested Vince now, he would do it on national television.

Vince backed away and stepped onto the set and into the bright lights. “Well, you guys love drama. Here it is.” He was starting to sweat. “As you’ve probably already seen, they’re accusing me of creating a story by murdering Lisa Jackson myself. As ludicrous as that sounds, I find I have to defend myself.” He turned back to Cade. “Chief Cade, why don’t we hash this out right now, on national television? Step up here with me and interrogate me publicly.”

Another camera came on and swung around to Cade.

“I’m not here to interrogate you, Barr. I’m here to arrest you—and grandstanding on television isn’t going to save you.”

“Okay, look—” Vince chuckled—“I don’t mind explaining myself right here and now. This is all because of the information I had about the telephone cord. As I told you, one of your own men leaked that to me, but I cannot reveal my sources. So arrest me if you must, but the viewers know you’re coming after me because you can kill two birds with one stone. You need a scapegoat, and you can shut up the reporter.”

Cade stood there, knowing the cameras were on him. He figured by now all of the news stations had live coverage of the scene. Vince was trying to make him look stupid, figuring Cade would back off, not make the arrest.

But Vince had him all wrong.

Cade stepped up to the stage, into the lights, and went straight to the first camera. He pulled the plug that gave it power, and the red light died.

“Hey, you can’t do that!”

“Watch.” He walked to the other one and yanked it, too. The monitors went black, and then he saw the national anchors coming back on, commenting on what they’d just seen.

They were off the air.

“Arrest him,” Cade said.

His men stepped onto the stage, fully armed, and surrounded the tabloid star. But Vince had no intention of going quietly. He
bolted forward and knocked over the camera, leaped over it, and took off toward an exit door.

Cade had brought plenty of backup. “Freeze!” McCormick shouted, his gun aimed dead center.

Vince hesitated, then groped at the waistband of his pants just under his blazer.

“He’s got a gun!” Cade yelled. “Drop it now, Barr!”

A camerawoman rushed in with a camera on her shoulder, recording Vince’s panic as he backed up with that gun. “You’re making it worse,” Cade shouted. “You’re resisting arrest on live television.”

The word
live
startled Vince, and he lowered his gun long enough to look back at the monitors. His own panicked, sweaty face stared back at him. The camerawoman moved closer…showing the world Vince Barr’s pathetic attempt to save himself.

Suddenly he sprang forward, knocking the camera out of her hands and shoving the gun to her head.

“Get your men out of my way, or I’ll blow her head off!”

T
he young woman Vince had taken hostage screamed out her horror as he dragged her across the floor. “Get back, all of you.” He backed up with her, toward a door behind the lighted set. “I don’t want to kill her.”

“Vince, please,” the woman cried. “Please, let me go.”

“No! I’m taking you with me. If they make one wrong move, your blood will be on their hands.”

“What do you think you’re going to do?” Cade inched toward him. “You’ll never get out of this building.”

“Watch me.”

Vince opened the door behind him and backed into the hallway. Cade followed him, his gun trained dead center. But the woman was in the way.

Barr kept backing up the hall, heading toward the exit door.

“Let me go, Vince!” the woman screamed. “I’m not your enemy!”

Cade came toward him. “Don’t make it worse for yourself, Barr.”

But the reporter had a look of crazed panic in his eyes. He wasn’t going to surrender easily. “You’re not going to make me tomorrow’s headline!”

“You’ve already made yourself a part of this story,” Cade said, “but if you let her go, if you cooperate with us…”

Barr got to the exit door and tried to open the door, but it was jammed. He looked around, his arm clamped across the woman’s neck as he kept the gun on Cade.

Cade lowered his gun. “All right, let’s slow down and take a deep breath,” he said in a calming voice. “You don’t have to do this, Barr. Maybe a judge will show you mercy if you stop resisting. Just let her go.”

Vince tried shoving the exit door again. This time it fell open. He pulled the woman out into the daylight—and found himself staring at dozens of guns, pointed straight at him. Savannah police had arrived on the scene and had cordoned off the area.

“Hold your fire!” Cade shouted. “He’s got a hostage.”

Barr thought better of his decision to leave the building, and pulled the woman back inside. He looked around and saw a staircase. Walking backward, he dragged the woman up the stairs, then backed into the stairwell, intent on escape.

Cade spoke softly into his radio. “Go up the other fire escape and cover every floor of the building.”

He’d have no place to go except the roof. Where did he think he would go once he got there?

The woman screamed as her captor went further up, and McCormick and his men followed him, guns still drawn. Cade followed a few paces behind, his leg killing him as he made his way up four flights of stairs.

Barr got into daylight and dragged the fighting woman to the edge of the roof. McCormick stopped at the door, afraid to go further. “He’s going to kill himself and take her with him.”

“Oh, no, he’s not.” Cade pushed past him and went out on the roof. The woman’s screams vibrated through his body.
“Let her go, Vince! Come on, let her go. We don’t need a third murder.”

But Vince wasn’t listening. He was teetering on the edge of the roof, looking down at what lay below him. Finally, he pulled his cell phone off of his belt and made a call.

“Send me the helicopter, now. I’m on the roof of Channel 3—and hurry!”

Cade knew Barr had access to the
Observer’
s helicopter. But would they listen to him? Wouldn’t they be keenly aware of what was going on?

Cade heard McCormick, still in the stairwell, making the radio call. “Get word to the
Observer
that any helicopter that touches down on this building will be fired upon.”

“Vince, please let me go,” the woman cried. “They’ll come for you, and you’ll be home free. Just let me go now.”

“Shut up!”

He still stood dangerously close to the edge. Was he keeping open his option of jumping if the helicopter let him down?

Cade heard the sound of rudders overhead and saw the aircraft approaching. It had probably been en route even before Vince called, anxious to get the story as it moved outside the building.

Cade’s hair blew wildly as the copter hovered overhead. McCormick and the others came out of the stairwell, some of their guns aimed high, and the others still trained on Barr.

“They’re coming, Vince,” the woman screamed. “Please, let me go now!”

Vince looked hopeful as the copter came closer, but it never got within gunshot range. Cade watched Vince’s face as the man realized the
Observer
had not come to his rescue. Instead, they were filming his demise.

“No, you morons!” He raised his gun to fire on the helicopter.

Cade dove toward him, knocking the gun and the woman out of his hands and flinging him to the concrete. He screamed and struggled, but the other officers descended on him, fighting his arms behind him and grinding his chin into the roof.

Finally, Cade got off him and got up, jerking the man to his feet. Pulling his head back so that the helicopter’s camera could get a good view, he said through his teeth, “Smile, Vince. Now you’re really a star.”