The Defenseless (8 page)
Authors: Carolyn Arnold
“That’s my point. Twenty-six years ago. Why would I bother at this point?”
“That’s the easy part. To allow separation between you and the victim,” Jack said.
“Okay, I get that viewpoint. But I didn’t do this. I swear to you.”
There was something about the shaky nature of his voice, the pleading in his eyes.
“You said you are being set up. By whom?”
“I have a lot of people who hate me.”
“You’ll have to do better than that. Come on. Let’s go.” I prompted him to stand.
He shrugged out of my reach.
“I don’t know who would do this, all right, but I know I didn’t.”
“You’re full of helpful information.”
“Please, if you had reason to arrest me, you already would have. We wouldn’t be sitting here talking.”
“We’re going to need all the information on your friend Henry, the one you spent the night with,” Jack said.
The Advocate had
seen the news and was extremely proud of his latest accomplishment. He was being acknowledged by the FBI. They were aware of his work. Now, he would have to up the level of skill and choose his next victim—carefully and swiftly. He had no time to give way to self-doubt. He intended to outwork his purpose to its greatest potential.
In an ideal world, the stalking part was the most tantalizing to him. It was a game of cat and mouse, and he was the cat. He would toy with the rodent and paw at it until either he tired of play or it succumbed to his claws.
In reality, he loved playing the position of power and he had truly maneuvered things brilliantly. The murders, the disappearances—they would never be tied back to him. He had done due diligence to ensure that all roads led many places, and away from his front door.
If anything, his lifelong
“friend” would take the fall and receive the full reciprocation of justice, of Karma, of whatever people wanted to ascribe to the righting of wrongs, to the balancing of the universe.
The Advocate had parked down the street, keeping an eye for the most
opportune time to make his move. The man he targeted, and longed to spend time with, was another Offender of the Defenseless. He couldn
’t wait to exact equal revenge. This method would be a first for him.
All good things come in time.
The familiar saying rushed in on him, soothing his heartbeat and quieting his thoughts.
It was time to work.
He rang the doorbell.
And waited.
The wind blew alongside the front of the house, penetrating through his plush jacket, to flesh and bone. A shiver shook through him as the door was answered.
This Offender was a giant, but there was one thing not even Goliath could conquer—the accurately placed stone from David
’s slingshot. Today’s
modern equivalent was a semi-automatic.
He pulled the gun from his coat pocket, doing so discreetly so that if any prying neighbors
were watching, they wouldn’t notice.
“Are you alone?” he asked the question, although certain of the answer.
The giant nodded.
“Step back into the house, nice and slow.”
“Who are you? If Guy sent you, tell him I’ll have his money in two days.”
“In the house.”
The giant took a few steps toward him, and the cowardice that resided within him registered a second
’s hesitation. After all, he was the one with a loaded gun.
“All I have to do is scream,” the giant said.
“And all I have to do is pull the trigger. Your screams would matter little with your dead body on the floor.” The Advocate’s full confidence had returned. His commitment to this mission reinforced.
The man stepped backward into his house, both hands held high.
“You’re going to put on your coat and boots and come with me.”
“Why would I—”
He shook the gun in front of the giant
’s face.
He complied and got ready.
“Now, we’re going to get into my car, and you’re going to act like we’re best friends. Got it?”
“Yeah.”
This was easy-peasy.
The team was going to the local FBI field office to discuss what we had discovered so far, but Paige received a phone call from the animal shelter’s funding manager, Kim Delaney. Jack told them to go by and find out what they could from her and meet back up with us later on.
Cathy Lyons had dropped off the hate mail, so we had time to review that while we waited. At least I was working through the pile of letters. Jack had stepped out to grab a coffee from the bullpen.
“How are you making out?” Detective McClellan cast shadows from the doorway into the conference room we were set up in. A visitor’s badge dangled from a lanyard that was around his neck.
“People are crazy.” I looked back to the letter in my hands, thinking maybe he’d take the hint to leave me to it.
He took a seat.
“I heard you guys spoke to Fields.”
I wanted to ask how he knew but assumed Jack may have mentioned it.
“You know when we questioned Bowen…dang.” McClellan shook his head. “We should have pressured him more. He’s the guy’s stepbrother.”
“Well, don’t beat yourself up over it. We haven’t proven he’s the killer. We didn’t even think there was enough to bring him in for questioning at this point.”
“I know,” he waved a dismissive hand. “It’s just this Fields guy wrote the columns on Simpson, Lyons, even the two who were never found from two thousand nine and ten.”
“Ball and Garner.”
“Yeah. And here the guy’s stepbrother found Simpson’s body. Kind of coincidental.”
“The same stepbrother who runs the animal activist group you directed us to.” Maybe staring at the obvious wasn’t the answer…
McClellan let out a staggered exhale.
I’m not sure why I had the urge to soothe the man’s conscience. “You can’t catch everything.”
“Yeah, but that’s a big one. I still can’t buy why Fields would want to throw his life away.”
All of this talk about Fields made me want to follow up with Nadia to see how she was making out with his full background and his alibi for the night Simpson was murdered.
“Fields is a large contributor to the shelter,” I said.
“Heard that too.”
I thought about our conversation with Fields. It was a possibility Jack and I had spent time with the killer. If Fields was behind this, he had a brilliant setup. Pulling from such distant cases, it would put time between him and his victims, but it also proved he had a connection with them.
It really wasn’t that far of a stretch to contemplate Fields behind the murders.
He had contributed heavily to the shelter, enough to warrant a plaque. He stood up for animals in need of a home, but did that mean he went
so far as to exact revenge on those who abused them?
My reasoning led me back to Fields’s words about charity. He didn’t just donate money to one pot, as it were. He spread out his generosities, tax write-offs, as he so kindly put it. There wasn’t passion igniting his voice when he spoke about Simpson or Lyons. He remained factual. Was that to serve as a protective front, or was that truly how he felt toward them and, by extension, was it out of apathy?
Jack walked in and nodded toward McClellan.
“It seems like you two have a lot of work ahead of you. Let me know if you could use some help.” The detective excused himself.
This case made it hard to distinguish the good guys—was that us or the killer? There was something about a person carrying out vigilante justice in defense of abused animals that held a nobility to it. It played on the heartstrings of mankind’s instinctual nature to right wrongs.
“Find anything, Kid?”
Jack pressed the mug to his lips.
“Just a bunch of people with extreme hate in their souls. This is a tough one.”
“What is?”
The reflection in his eyes revealed he was using this time to analyze and judge my character.
I chose my words carefully.
“It’s our job to find the killers, to stop them. Usually, it’s easy.”
Jack squinted for a second as if blocking out sunlight.
I went on. “It’s easy in the sense of, it’s in our programming. But with this case, we have a killer who is targeting animal abusers.”
“You think they got what they had coming?”
“I never said that, but it’s one of those moral debates. Do you consider it a success to stop a man who is making the world, in a way, a better place?” It was obvious my words didn’t please Jack, based on the reflection in his eyes.
“We have a judicial system in place to determine guilt or innocence. Our unsub is assuming the position of judge, jury, and executioner.”
“You know what I mean.” I paused for a few seconds and added, “Don’t you?”
A slow nod, almost as if he didn
’t want me to pick up on it.
“You probably don’t think I have a heart, Kid. But things in this life are not always fair. It’s about acceptance.”
His
eyes darkened and, based on that and the energy in the room, I had a feeling he was going back to his days in the military, before he came to the FBI.
Was Jack actually going to open up to me?
His next words confirmed my suspicions.
“When you’re serving this country, you follow orders. You kill because you are told to kill. The men you shoot have done nothing to you on a personal level. You are fighting for an ideal.”
Jack didn
’t make eye contact with me as he spoke, but I wasn’t going to say a thing until he was finished talking. I didn’t want to discourage him. This was the most personal conversation we had ever shared. This investigation was even testing Jack’s moral servitude.
“It doesn’t make you wrong. It doesn’t make you right. It makes you compliant.”
The emphasis he placed on
compliant
was stamped with disgust.
His eyes found mine.
“We stop this guy because that’s our job. We don’t have the novelty of looking the other way, or even of empathizing with him. This man has murdered at least one, likely more. We don’t even know if Lyons is alive at this point.”
“I understand, Jack.”
His eyes seemed to assess my resolve.
Seconds later, he opened his arms to take in the table.
“What have we got?”
“The smartass answer—a lot of hate mail.”
Was that amusement in Jack
’s eyes?
“The detailed answer—I’ve been making a list of names. None of these have had return addresses so far.”
“Not a real big surprise.”
I reached for the next in the pile and my extremities fell cold. I paused all movement.
“Kid?”
“I spoke too soon.”
I held up the envelope so he could see.
“Thank you for seeing us on short notice.” Paige extended her hand to Kim Delaney.
Zach was already seated in one of the two chairs across from Delaney
’s desk.
“I want to help out however I can. My volunteer told me that someone is killing animal abusers?”
“Seems so, yes. We spoke with Alisha this afternoon and while she was helpful, she couldn’t give us all the information we were after.” Paige’s phone vibrated in her pocket but she ignored it.
“How long have you been with the shelter?” Zach asked, tracing his fingers along one arm of his chair.
“I’ve been here fifteen years, but I have records in the computer going back thirty. Even when case files were all handwritten, they were scanned and entered into our database. These days we mostly input our notes electronically. Technology is a wonderful thing. Alisha had mentioned she requested a warrant. I assume you have that with you?”
“Unfortunately, not yet. Those things take a little more time.”
“Oh.” Delaney clasped her hands in her lap and leaned back into her chair.
“We’re still hoping you can help us out.”
“I’m not sure if I can, but I’ll try.”
“Alisha mentioned most of your help comes from volunteers. We’d be interested in hearing about any who volunteered or worked here twenty-six years ago.”
Delaney
’s eyebrows lifted. “Twenty-six years ago?”
Paige pointed to the monitor and threw in a sly smile.
“I’m sure you have that in your computer there.”
“I do, but I think that would require a warrant too.”
“What about any new volunteers or employees?” Paige asked.
She and Zach had discussed this on the way over. While their original feeling was the killer was associated with the shelter twenty-six years ago, it was possible it was someone new who had access to old files. While elements in the case directed them toward Fields and Bowen, at this point, they couldn
’t provide their names to Delaney.
“We got a new one six months ago. A nice fella. I’m sorry I can’t tell you his name without the warrant.”
Paige realized how they were pressuring for information while being unable to share any themselves. She needed
to disclose the urgency and hoped it would spark the woman to speak. “Another man is currently missing. In fact, there are three total.”
“Three?”
Paige had to put her vibrating cell phone out of her mind.
“The help you provide may result in saving a man’s life. If we wait on the warrant, it may be too late.”
The severity of her suggestion, struck Paige after her words came out. They were the FBI, they did everything by the book. They had a high closed case rate and they couldn
’t risk evidence being dismissed by a technicality.
Delaney angled her head.
“I know what you’re doing, and I want to help, really I do, but I can’t jeopardize my position here. With the economy the way it is, who knows how long it would take to find another job.”
“I understand.”
Paige and Zach moved to get up.
“Not sure if it will help you, but we had a baseball team this summer. We didn’t do half bad.” She pointed to a framed print on the wall to their right.
Paige found the detour interesting. Alisha had done something similar when they were here yesterday. She walked over and met up with Zach.
In the photograph, a bunch of smiling faces were staring back at them. There must be someone in the crowd…
Delaney came up behind them.
“Recognize anyone?”
Paige did one final scan of the picture and frowned.
“Sorry, I couldn’t have been more help.”
*****
Paige took out her cell. “What is up with this phone? It’s been vibrating nonstop. Three messages.”
“So while we were in there on business, you’ve been having pleasure.” Zach laughed.
“Again, with the thinking you’re funny.” Paige went to press the button to retrieve voice mail, when it rang again. “Agent Dawson…okay, slow down…right…we’ll be right there.”
“What was that—”
