Blood and Justice (26 page)

“And the car wasn’t locked?”

“Nope.”

“And the keys were in it?”

“Yup.”

“Anything else you can tell me?”

Benny thought a minute. “Well, I had to move the seat way back just to get in.”

“Did you take anything from the vehicle when you left it?”

“Nope. Weren’t nothin’ worth taking.”

Hank leaned back and folded his arms. “I think that’s all Benny. You’ve been a big help.”

“So you’ll do what you said? Make them charges go away?”

“Don’t worry Benny, I’ll do exactly like I said.” He stood and went through the door to the viewing room and sat beside Jake.

“Very interesting,” Jake said.

“Yes, it is. It appears the killer tried to hide Bronson’s vehicle in plain sight.”

Jake nodded. “Now we just have to figure out what this all means.”

“Yeah.”

Chapter 42

Monday, August 15th, 10:30 AM

ONE can only work in a garden for so long. There’s a limited amount of weeds to pull, and one can soon run out of rows to hoe.

It had kept Jeremy busy for some time, but he still felt rejected and dejected. He was still mad at the world.

Whenever he felt this way in the past, he would talk to Mother. She would always have a sympathetic word or two, maybe a hug, and always made him feel better.

But she was long gone. She had left him to fend for himself. He adored Father, but he was gone as well. All he could hope to do was carry on Father’s work. Doing his part to rid the world of scum. That was important, yes, but he needed a job as well.

He swore and threw the hoe across the garden, mashing one of his prize tomato plants. He didn’t care. He lay down on the grass and looked up at the sky. The clouds moved gently across the endless expanse, drifting from one horizon to the other, without a care in the world.

He wished he were a cloud. No, he wished he were a rain cloud. Full of thunder. And lightning. Maybe a tornado. He’d wreak havoc down and wouldn’t care.

He jumped up and strode to the house, slamming the door behind him as he went into the mudroom. He went through the room, into the house to the kitchen, and took the 22 revolver from the drawer.

He cocked it and held it to his temple. His hand trembled. Sweat appeared on his brow. He held his breath and closed his eyes, clenching his teeth. His finger tightened on the trigger. He held motionless a moment, and then his grip loosened, and the gun slipped from his hand and clattered as it hit the ceramic floor. His breath came out in a rush, and he stood still, breathing slowly. He finally opened his eyes and looked at the floor by his feet.

He stared at the gun a moment, and then picked it up and put it back into the drawer, covering it carefully with the towels, and gently shutting the drawer.

He dropped his hands into his pockets and trudged up the stairs to the second floor. He slid back the dead bolt on the door of Jenny’s room and opened it.

Jenny was sitting on the bed, propped up by pillows, reading a book. Classical music was coming from the set of speakers under the window. She looked up.

Without saying a word, he went over, moved the chain to the side and sat on the edge of the bed at the opposite end.

He stared at her.

She stared back. She could see the dejected look on his face. She reached over to the CD player, turned down the music, and waited for him to speak.

“I got fired today,” he said calmly.

She cocked her head. “What happened?”

“He said I was late too much.”

She was silent.

“So, he fired me.”

“Now what’ll you do?”

“I don’t know.”

She waited.

“Perhaps I’ll sell the house,” he said, “if I can’t find another job.”

“And . . . what about me?”

“Yeah, that’s a problem.”

She waited.

“I really like you, Jenny. You’re the only one who’ll listen to me.”

“I . . . I like you too, Jeremy,” she lied.

His brows shot up. “Really?”

“Yes.”

He frowned slightly and studied her face. Did she really like him, or was she just saying that?

“You’ve been treating me well, and have been kind to me.”

His eyes narrowed a bit as he continued to study her. Finally, he said, “I might take the chains off, if you promise not to try to get away again.”

She smiled. “I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He watched her for a couple of minutes. She seems honest, and sincere. Maybe she has changed now. Maybe she can understand I really am a good man, and am trying my best to take care of her.

He stood suddenly, reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring of padlock keys. He bent over and grabbed her foot, dragging her leg toward him. He put a key in the lock and twisted. The long chain fell loose. He unlocked the one holding the small chain around her ankle, and then the chain from the ring in the floor. He picked them all up and tossed them into a corner along with the padlocks.

She drew her leg in and rubbed her ankle. Thank you,” she said.

“Do you want a shower?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

He went to the door, opened it, and stepped outside the room. She picked out one of his mother’s old dresses from the closet and followed him. He stood at the top of the steps to block her way, and motioned down the hall. She slipped down the passageway, and into the bathroom.

He sat on the floor and waited. He could hear the shower running. In a few minutes, the toilet flushed, and the door opened again.

He stood and motioned toward the bedroom. She went in and sat on the bed, watching him.

He followed her in.

“Thank you,” she said. “I feel better.”

He smiled, and said, as he left, “I’ll be back soon with your lunch.”

Chapter 43

Monday, August 15th, 10:55 AM

ANNIE shuddered a little as she drove past the forested area where she’d found Chad Bronson’s body, just two or three days before. She took a quick look down the lane, and then forced her eyes back on the road and hummed to herself, trying to remove the scene from her mind.

She continued along for perhaps a mile and turned into the Spencer driveway. The gravel under the tires snapped as she drove toward the house, coming to stop behind a Blue Hyundai. She assumed it was Jeremy’s vehicle.

She climbed from her car and looked around. She’d never actually been on this property before, although she’d driven past it many times. To her right, a couple of hundred feet away, and further down the driveway, she saw the old barn. She thought again of the day she’d heard about Jeremy’s mother, hanging herself from the beam overhead.

To her left was a field, now unused, and overgrown with weeds. A little further past, she could see the forest extending for a couple of miles, or more, with the swamp dominating a large part, at the center of the vast area of land.

Straight ahead was the old farmhouse. She climbed the aging wooden steps to the large front porch and knocked on the door. After waiting for a while, she knocked again.

The door was opened a few inches, and she could see Jeremy. He looked at her quizzically. “Yes, Mrs. Lincoln?” he asked.

She smiled at him. “Hi Jeremy. May I talk to you for a few minutes?”

“What about?” He seemed guarded. Maybe a little uneasy.

She tried a new approach. “I went to Mortinos to talk to you. Mr. MacKay told me he had let you go. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. He seemed a little more at ease.

“It must be hard on you,” she said in a concerned voice.

He opened the door a little more and shrugged. “Can’t do much about it, I guess.”

“I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy. I just have a couple of questions for you, if that’s ok?”

He stepped outside onto the porch, took a couple of steps forward, and leaned with his back against the railing. Annie turned to face him. She smiled down at him again to assure him she was harmless.

“What questions do you have?” he asked.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, a man was killed on August second, two weeks ago, and his body was found over there in that forest.” She pointed to the tree line. “I am just wondering if you saw, or heard anything at all that day that was unusual, or out of the ordinary?”

Jeremy glanced toward the trees. He looked back at Annie, squinted a bit, and shook his head. “Nope. Didn’t see anything.”

“Or hear anything?”

“Nope.”

She looked toward the forest again. That was the only question she had for him.

He spoke. “You’re the one who found him, aren’t you? I saw it on the news.”

She looked back at him, and nodded slowly. “Yes, I found the body. A couple of days ago.”

“What was that like?”

She laughed lightly. “It was kind of spooky.”

“Yeah, I guess it would be.”

Nobody spoke for a moment.

She was about to thank him and leave, when he asked, “Do you want to see my garden?”

She looked at her watch. “Sure.”

She followed him down the steps and around to the back of the house. She could see a fairly large garden. It appeared to be well tended.

He pointed. “I’ve got carrots there, and lettuce just starting to come up here.”

She followed him between some rows of onions.

He pointed again. “And there are some beets, and there are my tomatoes.” He stopped in front of a tomato plant with a broken stem. “That one got broken. Must’ve been an animal here. Maybe a raccoon. Stupid animals.”

She looked down at the plant. The break looked fresh.

And that’s when she saw it!

She took a quick breath and stepped back.

It hit her like a tidal wave. Mortinos. Mrs. Bellows was at Mortinos. Jeremy worked at Mortinos. He was on the video heading for the front of the store as she left. The place where Chad was buried. Right here near Jeremy’s house. But the thing bringing it all together was right here on the ground at her feet.

The footprint!

Jeremy’s footprint in the garden was the same one she’d seen on Bronson’s grave. She was sure of it now.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Lincoln?”

“Yes . . . yes. I’m all right.”

He looked at her and cocked his head. “Are you sure?”

“I have to go now,” she said. She turned quickly and strode back around the house to her car. She opened the door, climbed inside, and dug in her handbag for her cell phone. She found it, and dialed 9-1-1.

“9-1-1. What is your emergency?”

The phone was struck from her hands. It flew up and hit the floor on the passenger’s side.

“Who are you calling?” Jeremy snarled.

She’d left the keys in the ignition. She reached for them but found herself being choked from behind, his arm around her neck, and dragged from the vehicle. She could feel the cold steel of a knife at her throat.

“You know, don’t you?” he said.

“Jeremy,” she managed. “What are you doing?”

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“He kept his arm around her throat and dragged her around the car. He opened the other door, picked up the phone with his free hand and dropped it to the ground. He stomped on it, once, twice, three times. She heard the case shatter, and then the knife was back at her throat.

She heard a tapping, a banging, like knuckles on glass. She looked up. She could see a girl looking from the window from the second story. A blond girl.

It’s Jenny!

Jeremy followed her eyes and looked up at the window. “I’m sorry, but now you know, I can’t let you go.”

He moved the knife from her throat, grabbed her by the wrist and twisted her arm behind her back. He put the knife between his teeth and grabbed her other wrist and twisted it back as well. He held her wrists together with one hand and retrieved the knife. She struggled, but he was stronger than he appeared, and she couldn’t break free.

“Jeremy, you have to let me go. The police know I’m here, and so does my husband.”

“You’re not a good liar, Mrs. Lincoln,” he said, as he tightened his hold and pushed her across the driveway.

He held the point of the knife to the back of her neck, and said, “Now walk straight ahead. To the barn.”

She could feel the sharp point. She obeyed, and walked slowly forward, prodded by the knifepoint. She was afraid it would cut into her neck if she didn’t take careful, easy steps.

Finally, they reached the barn.

“Open the door,” he commanded.

She pulled on the handle and it swung open. She could see a blanket on the floor, and a chain fastened to a massive post, as he marched her over to the far wall.

The knife was moved, and he tripped her from behind. She fell onto the blanket face down. He jumped onto her back and pinned her down. She heard a rattle of chains, and then felt something cold and stiff being wrapped around her neck. Then, a click, and the weight on her back was gone.

Chains rattled as she jumped to her feet. She brought her hands to her throat. It felt like a leather collar around her neck, and the collar was padlocked to the chain.

He stood back out of reach and watched her.

Annie was terrified. She knew what he’d done to Bronson, to Mrs. Bellows, and to Farley. She cowered in fear, her back against the wall of the barn, watching him carefully.

“Why’d you have to come poking around here?” he asked angrily.

“I . . . I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“I . . . I just wanted to talk to you. I didn’t know it was you who . . . killed those people.”

“Well, now you know, and I can’t let you go,” he said flatly.

“My husband will find me, and find you,” she said. “You can’t get away with this.”

“I have no choice.”

“I saw Jenny in the window. You can’t keep us both here for long.”

Jeremy seemed to consider that. He started pacing. Finally, he stopped and shouted at her, “It’s your own fault, and hers too. Both of you should never have been here. She should never be here. She wasn’t supposed to be in the car with . . . him. And you shouldn’t be here. You should have just minded your own business. And if your husband comes here, I’ll have no choice. I’ll have to shoot him. He’s too big for me. Yes, I’ll have to shoot him.”