The Face of Fear: A Powers and Johnson Novel (45 page)

“Thank you, Mr. Lance, it’s a very nice gesture on your part,” Simpson replied. “Will we be able to talk when you get back?”

Deborah’s father spoke again. “We can always talk, Robert, but no promises. My daughter is my world.”

“Understood,” Robert replied. “I will go in today. I assume the codes are the same?”

“Yes,” William Lance replied. “Just give me a couple of hours to notify Detective Lieutenant Cronin that I have authorized you to go back in until we return.”

“Thank you, sir,” Simpson replied.

“OK, Robert,” Lance replied. “Just make sure all your things are packed up and ready to move when we get back. We will give you a couple days’ notice when we plan to arrive.”

They disconnected, and Robert let out a long sigh of relief before he started pushing the buttons on his cell phone.

As the phone rang, Robert Simpson was getting nervous there would be no answer. Finally before voice mail picked up, Rachelle picked up. Robert spoke, saying, “I’m back in at the house for a few days. I will be moving in tonight. Tomorrow I will be packing up the rest of my things and taking care of our 'needs’ during the evening.”

“Good,” Rachelle answered. “Meet me Friday morning at the same location, and we can discuss the rest of our 'needs.’ Just make sure everything is taken care of.”

“No problem,” Simpson replied. He hung up and started on a hunt to get some boxes so he could finish his move once and for all.

Once Bud was released and met up with Paul and Assistant District Attorney Ashley, they decided to get back to the precinct, since Cronin had been calling for them. They also had to ride back in separate cars. While Bud was driving back, he called in to Dugan to get a Remington 12-gauge shotgun to Healey at the house.

“Also,” he said, “see if the precinct commander can spare Officer Lynagh at the house from 2:00 am to 6:00 am so Healey can get some sleep, as well as Paul and myself. I would like to see if we can get him for Thursday morning as well.” Dugan said he would confirm and get back to him.

As Bud drove back to the precinct, he was conflicted over his feelings about what had just happened. He was thrown in jail for contempt because of arguing with the judge and assistant district attorney over Robert Simpson paying the 10 percent of the bail to the bondsman. He knew Simpson didn’t have the money, and it was clear he knew where the money was. Instead he was told to speak to Cronin, just like Rachelle had told him to do.

Bud called William Lance in Florida during the drive back to the precinct and asked him if he knew where Simpson was getting the money to pay the bail. William Lance promptly told him it would be best if he spoke to Cronin, before he hung up.

Bud started banging the steering wheel as he was told to speak to the detective lieutenant again. He started to get a headache trying to figure out why everyone was telling him this. He made up his mind during the last 10 minutes of the drive that he was going to find out. Bud reached the precinct and was handed two messages from Gina. One was from Officer Dugan that he had brought the extra shotgun to Healey and confirmation that Officer Lynagh would be in the house from 2:00 am to 6:00 am. The second message was from Detective Lieutenant Cronin to come to his office right away.

As he stepped in the boss’ office, Bud decided to try a different approach with Cronin and just stay calm. “OK,” the detective lieutenant said, “let’s have it. What’s on your mind?”

Bud paused, then spoke in the calmest voice he could. “I’m working this case. Every time I begin to make progress, I’m told to speak to you. I’m tired of hitting dead ends.”

“That’s it?” Cronin asked.

“No,” Bud replied. “All this tells me you are keeping things from us. Why? Do you not trust us? We have been on your team for a while. Why are you not telling us things and keeping us informed?”

Cronin sat back and replied, “Bud, you are a good cop and a much better investigator than most realize. I’ve said this before, and I’m going to say it again. This is all a game, and you just happen to be a terrific player. But it’s not about trusting you or anyone else right now. You are going to have to trust me. Some of the moves I’m making are to get the game to end the way I need it to end, and some of the moves I’m making are to protect your careers and to keep you in the game. I need your trust for another 24 to 36 hours. As for not keeping you informed, I could say the same for you. You schedule Lynagh from 2:00 am to 6:00 am, and you told me you couldn’t make the court appearance because of a development, then you made it and got yourself thrown in jail because you decided to fuck around with Judge Green.”

“Boss,” Bud replied, “Simpson is using Lance’s money for the bail.”

“Let it ride, let the game play out,” Cronin replied.

Bud just sat there and shook his head at the boss and said, “Is it going to be worth it?”

“I hope so, Detective,” he answered. “I certainly hope so.”

“One last question,” Bud said. “The photo that Lindsey picked out for you...”

Cronin interrupted him, “Now is not the time to go there, but soon it will be.”

“OK,” Bud said. “I’m going to share all of this with Paul. Any problem with that?”

Cronin smiled and said, “He’s your partner; you should be sharing all of this with him.”

As Bud reached the door, he turned around and spoke. “Did we accomplish anything by this talk?”

“I think so,” Cronin said. “We came to an understanding.”

Bud tapped the frame of the door as he walked out and went to his desk. As he reached his desk, Paul walked in.

As Paul sat down, he spoke, saying, “Sherry is going to be released tomorrow. Isn’t that great news?”

“Yes,” Bud replied.

“Listen,” Paul replied, “I think you and I need to go over all our notes and make sure we both know the same things. You have been off doing things as I have, and we need to get together and match a few things up.”

Bud had been scribbling with his pencil on his desk when he suddenly stopped and started to speak. “I think we do, I agree, but the key to this is the girl, not Rachelle, not Deborah or that asshole Simpson or even the bitch we just let get out on bail. The girl can ruin them.”

“Them?” Paul said.

“Yes,” Bud said, “them.”

“I agree,” Paul replied, “but to a point. Releasing Saunders will move things along faster.”

“And who,” Bud replied, “is going to keep an eye on her? We have 24/7 on Lindsey, Rachelle, Deborah, and your father in Florida, and now this. And more important, we have a masked killer eliminating the bad guys.”

Paul moved forward and said, “How do you know he’s not eliminating partners? The pot is only $3 million. The masked killer has eliminated Starfield, the three Winters brothers, and Anderson. There’s a big savings in killing five partners.”

“Yes,” Bud replied. “He lets Deborah, Rachelle, and Sherry live, and it’s fair to say he saved their lives. Doesn’t sound like the same person to me.”

“Unless,” Paul answered, “he wanted us to have the conflict and the confusion.”

“Or,” Bud said as he looked at Paul, “someone wanted to frame him.”

Paul started to feel the sweat on the back of his head as he answered Bud, saying, “Do you really think someone would go to that much trouble?”

“I think,” Bud said, “a killer would.”

He picked up the phone and dialed the lab and left it on speakerphone so Paul could hear him.

“Hey, Ross. This is Bud Johnson. The video we have of the masked killer from the hospital in the Kyle Winters killing. You indicated from the body structure and height that it’s possible it was Phil Smith.”

“Yes,” came the reply.

“OK, I’m going to give you additional names.”

“OK,” Ross replied.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” the lab technician replied. “Go ahead.”

“Myself,” Bud continued, “Kevin Cronin, Paul Powers.”

“Sir?” Ross interrupted.

“It’s OK,” Bud answered as he looked at his partner, “it’s all in a day’s work. Robert Simpson, Al Simmons, Agent Jason 'Jack’ O’Connor, Agent Sherman, Officer Healey. Any questions?” Bud asked.

“Only a comment,” Ross answered. “I can eliminate you, Sherman, and Cronin right away because of obvious body structure, weight, and the age of Cronin. There is no way at the age of 48 he could perform some of the things I saw on the video, and certainly not as quickly.”

As Bud continued to eye Paul out of the corner of his eye, he said, “Are you saying I’m too chunky to be the masked killer?”

“Well,” Ross replied, “that’s a nice way of putting it.”

“OK, so take a closer look at Simmons, Powers, Healey, Simpson, and O’Connor for possible matches.”

The lab technician replied, “I’m also going to eliminate Simmons because he was too thin and a bit too tall. I will study the photos of Simpson, Powers, O’Connor, and Healey and get back to you.”

Bud replied, “Also add Lynagh and ADA Ashley to the list.” The phone went
click
as Bud looked at Paul.

Paul got up and said, “I’m leaving. I hope you’re proud of yourself for wasting taxpayers’ dollars.”

He started to walk toward Cronin’s office, when Bud yelled, “I gave my name as well as yours. I have to tell you, I don’t agree the one going around shooting people is the same person. They can’t be that smart. The victims being killed by the Ghost Face mask killer are the bad guys. These are vigilante killings in response to what happened to Deborah and Rachelle. What better vigilante person than someone in law enforcement who doesn’t want to see a long trial or their loved ones go through suffering on the witness stand? I think you know I may be right.”

As Paul stepped into Cronin’s office, he turned and looked at Bud, saying, “Knock yourself out.”

Paul began to get lightheaded as he sat down in Cronin’s office. “Are you OK?” his boss asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Paul answered. “I want to talk more about what happened in the courtroom today, and I’m not discussing it with Bud right now, so let’s talk.”

Patty Saunders left the Riverhead Correctional Facility and raised her hands above her head and started yelling about the fresh air.

“Don’t get too excited,” Al Simmons said. “You have an ankle monitor on you, and they will be able to tell if you leave the Port Jefferson area. Even now, you have two hours to get there before they come looking for you and throw your ass back in lockup. So what are you going to do first?” he asked.

“Hmmm,” she said. “That’s easy. I need to get laid quick, before I bust.”

“Well,” he replied, “good luck. You will have to take off your bulletproof vest for that.”

“Ha, ha,” she replied, “no kidding.”

As they were talking, Officer George Lynagh walked up to them and said, “Ma’am, I’m here to take you to your apartment.”

“Oh, thank you, Officer,” she replied. “Do you have any plans later?”

“I’m a married man,” he replied.

“Oh, even better,” she said as she looked back at Simmons with a wink.

“Hold on,” O’Connor yelled to Patty as she was walking. Simmons also walked toward Patty to be sure there were no issues with the FBI. Agent Sherman was also present as O’Connor began to speak. O’Connor said, “Ms. Saunders, you are the instigator in a major kidnapping trial that involves the states of New York and Connecticut. It is the FBI that will be keeping an eye on you, not the Suffolk County Police Department. Just be aware of it.”

“Whatever,” Patty remarked. “Who’s taking me home?”

“I am,” Lynagh said. “You guys want to watch her, go ahead, but

I have my orders, and they’re not from you,” he said as he gently put his hand on Patty and steered her toward the car.

Sherman spoke, saying, “Sounds like you need an attitude adjustment, Officer Lynagh.”

“Give it your best shot,” the cop replied. “After all, I’m only part of the Suffolk County Police Department. You should be able to handle that.” He got in the cruiser to drive to Patty’s apartment in Port Jefferson.

As Patty sat in the backseat she suddenly realized there was a cell phone in her pants pocket. Lynagh was already on the expressway, heading west, when Patty was still wondering where she had gotten the cell phone. Her thoughts were filled with confusion and apparently had seen too many movies because she promptly reached from the backseat and threw it out onto the Long Island Expressway from Lynagh’s window.

“What the hell was that?” Lynagh spoke up.

“I threw out a cell phone,” Patty answered.

Lynagh pulled over his cruiser and turned around. “You listen to me. You don’t throw anything from this vehicle. If you can’t follow directions or stop from doing dumb things like that, I will turn around and take your ass back to Riverhead. I don’t give a shit what the judge says. Do you understand me? Now why are you throwing out a cell phone on the highway?”

“Because I don’t know how I got it, and I was afraid.”

Lynagh started backing up his cruiser at a fast speed in the emergency lane to the approximate place she had thrown out the phone, then got out of the car and looked at Patty. He said, “You stay in this car, or I will make your release a living hell.” He locked her in the vehicle, took out his shotgun, and opened up his badge as he started motioning for cars to stop.

Another police cruiser happened to drive up within a couple minutes from the courthouse and assisted Lynagh is stopping traffic before the cell phone was run over. The second cruiser parked sideways on the Long Island Expressway, and the officer got out of the car to hold traffic. Lynagh had his shotgun because he wanted to be more intimidating to the drivers to get them to cooperate with him, and he was right. Pointing at them with one hand and holding the shotgun in the other worked. His dark sunglasses were the icing on the cake. They all were at a standstill as the traffic backed up about 200 yards very quickly.

Officer Lynagh’s persistence paid off. He had searched the open area of the Long Island Expressway but continued toward the parked cars in the lanes. He searched the first few rows of the vehicles that were at a standstill and feared one of them had run over the cell phone. As he searched through the vehicles with his eyes to the ground, with quick glances at who was in the cars. It was the shotgun he was carrying that had everyone’s attention. It was a very intimidating sight as he brushed aside each of the cars. Having a second officer parked in the middle of the Expressway holding another shotgun was only an added form of intimidation.