Everywhere That Tommy Goes (16 page)

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Authors: Howard K. Pollack

BOOK: Everywhere That Tommy Goes
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“Well, well, aren’t you growing a set now, mate?”

I turn and stare Troyer right in the eyes. “Fuck you, man. I’m done!”

Troyer returns my stare and doesn’t say a word for what seems like an hour but isn’t more than five seconds. Then, out of nowhere, he breaks out that stupid-ass grin of his.

“Okay, Tommy Boy, I’ll give you what you want for the time being, but if she becomes a burden, I’ll kill her myself.”

“Whatever. Just tell me: Where is she?”

Troyer laughs again. “You know exactly where she is, Tommy Boy.”

I look at him and squint. “No, I don’t, so quit playing games and tell me.”

“Camp Lakewood, mate.”

CHAPTER 42

Sung stood a few feet away and watched Tanner pacing by his desk. “We know he’s lying, boss. I found the knife under the seat.”

“I realize that, Sammy. But I still can’t believe Chunky did this.”

“Can’t, or don’t want to?”

Tanner frowned, about to protest, despite knowing deep down inside that while he truly liked Chunky, he could no longer ignore the evidence. “You’ve got me there, Sammy. It’s just that I’ve known him for years and he doesn’t seem the type.”

“I hear you, boss, but the fact is neither of us really knows that much about him. After all, before today were you ever inside his house, or his garage for that matter? Admit it. You were as surprised as I was when we saw the car.”

Tanner mulled that over. “Yeah, I see your point. Maybe I don’t know him as well as I thought. But even though, I’m having a hard time digesting all this. I mean, think about it. What’s his motive?”

“Point taken. Clearly we need to dig a lot deeper.”

Tanner pulled at the skin around his throat. “Of course you’re right. We need to know more before going back in there to confront him.” Tanner grabbed the car keys off his desk. “Let’s go search the Mobil. We can update Stone on the way over.”

“At your six, boss.”

CHAPTER 43

Stone exited the car at Gilgo Beach, leaving the door open wide. A stiff breeze cut across the meager strip of land that separated the ocean from the bay. Watts shivered, pulling the lapels of his coat together as he chased after her. “Clue me in, partner. I see those wheels turning. Time to share it.”

“Sorry, but this one’s got me all wound-up. My gut tells me that Sullivan’s our perp, but the evidence is all over the place. Think about what the M.E. told us. There is no pattern to the killings. One body shows blunt force trauma to the head. Another was strangled. Yet another was shot in the heart. The bodies found last year also suggest that there must be more than one killer. Factor that in with what Tanner reported about the mechanic, and our connection down in Jersey is severed. The only common element is that all of the vics are young women.”

“All this troubles me as well.”

Stone stood at the edge of the road looking out toward the frenzy of activity deep within the weed grass. Tall yellow stalks, blowing in the wind, waved back and forth, as if calling, “Here we are, Detective. Come and find us. We’ve been murdered, and we need your help.” Shivering, Stone pulled her sweater sleeves through her jacket and over her wrists. “I know there are more bodies out here, and when we find them we’ll have all we need to convict Sullivan.”

*   *   *

Morgan and Reese reached the second home on the bluff less than a half-mile from Gilgo Beach. It was an oddly shaped, one-story structure, erected in the middle of the twentieth century. From
an empty driveway, a crushed-shell path led to the front porch. A faded, white swing hung from rusted chains, squeaking as it swayed in the wind. Off to the left, a mobile home, planted on cinder blocks, was clumsily attached via a short breezeway. The entire home was painted red in a crude effort to make the abomination appear seamless. Weeds grew through broken floorboards.

“The place looks deserted,” said Reese.

“Could be. Gilgo is like most of the other beach communities. The residents hibernate in winter, close up their homes, and return to thaw them out in the spring.” Morgan knocked, then called out, “Hello? Is anyone home?”

Reese wiped the window with his sleeve.

“Can you see anything?” Morgan asked, twisting the doorknob.

“Hard to tell. It’s totally dark inside. But my spider sense is tingling. Something tells me we’re in the right place.”

“Okay, Spiderman, we’ve been partners long enough for me to know when to defer to your . . . uh . . . insectile instincts.” Morgan grinned. “This door is locked. Let’s check around for another way in.”

Reese drew his gun and pointed it skyward. Morgan followed suit.

Crouching against the wall, the two men slid around to the side of the house and made their way to the breezeway door.

Reese checked the handle and turned back to Morgan. “It’s open.”

Morgan nodded. Reese pushed through the door.

Once inside, Morgan flicked a light switch that lit up the entire area. They found themselves in a kitchen-living room hybrid with a brick fireplace in the far corner. The refrigerator hummed in the background.

Morgan crinkled his nose. “That’s the smell of freshly-burnt wood. Someone’s been here recently.”

“You see that?” Reese said, pointing to the floor near the bedroom door. “Looks like blood to me.”

Morgan bent down to examine. “It definitely looks like blood, but we’ll have to test it.”

Reese nodded, crossed the room, made his way into the kitchen, and rummaged through the pantry. Opening the refrigerator, he was hit with the rancid odor of spoiled something—extremely spoiled something. “I’ve got some containers of old Chinese food here, along with a six-pack of Heineken. There’s also a half-bottle of tequila chilling in the freezer. Seems like whoever lives here drinks more than they eat.”

“Oh, yeah,” Morgan answered, “Come on in the bedroom and check this out.”

Reese spun and ran to Morgan “What did you find?”

Morgan was examining the dresser top. “Women’s jewelry—and one piece, in particular, matches the other two bracelets we found.”

“Our vic was here.”

“Appears so.” Morgan gestured toward the side of the bed. “Over there, more blood droplets. The spatter pattern tells me the blood dripped from a warm body. If the blood was transferred from the perp’s shoes, or clothing, it wouldn’t have dripped like that; it would have smeared.”

Reese blew a heavy sigh and shook his head. “Looks like we’ve found ourselves another crime scene.”

“No shit. Get on the horn and find out who owns this dump.”

CHAPTER 44

Tanner and Sung had been searching the Mobil station for over a half hour.

“I’ve got nothing so far,” Tanner said, exiting the office.

“Same here. Looks like a waste of time.”

“We’re not done yet. We still have to check the dumpster out back.”

“Not the garbage again,” Sung said as he followed Tanner.

“When are you going to learn that trash contains a wealth of information?”

Sung groaned as he flipped open the top of the dumpster. “Just about full, boss.”

“Lucky sanitation comes only once a week, Sammy,” Tanner smiled, “and lucky for me you’re the junior officer.”

“Oh come on, boss,” Sung groaned. “Do you really expect me to climb in there?”

Tanner’s smile widened. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Wonderful.”

“Come on—it won’t be that bad. This is a gas station. Most of the garbage will be metal and grease.”

“Yeah, right. I believe you’re forgetting about Chunky. He eats more in a day than you or I eat in a week. Remember his house? The leftovers alone could make you sick.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Sammy,” he laughed. “With Chunky, there are no leftovers.” Tanner bent over, lowered his arms, and folded his hands together. Motioning to Sung, he said, “Here—let me help you up.”

In no time, Sung had cleared through half of the debris, tossing auto parts, boxes, and other garbage out of the container. “I think I found something, boss,” he said, waving a white shirt. “Look at this.”

Tanner took the faded white undershirt from Sung and examined it. “These blotches have to be blood.”

“Yeah, but the shirt is way too small to fit Chunky.”

“I agree. Let’s get this to the lab right away.”

CHAPTER 45

Still breathing heavily, Chrissy Carbone was helped into the Port Jervis police station by Davis Lester, the Good Samaritan who had probably saved her life.

Davis sat her down and quickly summoned help from the desk sergeant. Within minutes, Captain Rory Parker appeared. He was a burly man who flaunted a take-charge disposition, but to those who really knew him, he was as soft as a teddy bear. He led the girl into an interrogation room.

“Are you feeling well enough to speak with me, Ms. Carbone?” Parker asked in a gentle voice that defied his appearance.

The girl was still shaking and teary eyed. She held a tissue to her nose and nodded.

“Okay, then, please take your time and tell me exactly what happened—and start from the beginning. I understand you were abducted from the Jervis Lodge, where you work.”

“Yes,” she said, still nodding as she wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “It all happened so fast. . . . I was working on the computer with my back facing the door—so I didn’t see him come in. I had headphones on and didn’t even hear the office door open.” She breathed a heavy sigh.

“Okay, now just take a deep breath and relax. You’re among friends now.” Parker’s tone was reassuring. “It’s safe here. You have nothing to worry about.”

The girl whimpered. “I know. It’s just such a shock. I still can’t believe what happened to me.”

“Yes, and you were very lucky, but we want to catch whoever did this to you. Do you think you can help us with some details?”

“I . . . uh . . . I’ll try, but I don’t really remember much. Whoever it was snuck through the door between the lobby and the front desk. Only employees are allowed back there. I didn’t realize anything until he came up and grabbed me from behind.” She looked up at the ceiling, rubbed her throat, and began sobbing heavily. After a few moments, she continued. “The next thing I know, I’m in the trunk of a car bouncing around. . . . Oh, my God, it was terrifying.” She stood and placed her hand over her heart. “I can’t do this anymore. I have to stop. I can’t breathe, and it’s just so hot in here.”

“I’m sorry, miss. I don’t want to make this any worse for you, but I have to ask these questions. If you need to take some time, let’s take a break.” Parker slid a cup of water across the table. “Here—have a sip and relax.”

“It’s okay. Just give me a minute,” she said, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands.

Parker stayed silent for a time, stood up, walked beside her, and motioned for her to sit down. He knelt down on his knee and took her hand. “Did you see the man’s face?”

She shook her head.

“What’s the next thing that you remember?”

Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I remember feeling the car bouncing up and down, so I knew we couldn’t be on a regular road. All of a sudden, we stopped, and it got quiet. They turned off the engine, and I was able to hear men’s voices talking to each other. Then the trunk opened. I closed my eyes and made believe I was still unconscious. As I was being lifted from
the trunk, I screamed. It must have surprised him because he dropped me and fell backward. I jumped up and started running through the woods. I didn’t look back. I just ran.”

Parker released her hand and stood up. “That was very smart. Now, I know this is hard, but did you happen to get a look at the man when he dropped you?”

“Not really. I mean, it happened so fast.” She reached for the water and took a sip.

“What about the car? Is there anything you can remember about it?”

“It was black, if that helps at all, and the trunk had that new car smell.” She swallowed more water. “I don’t know much about cars, though.”

“Do you remember anyone who may have checked into the Lodge with a car like that?”

“Well, we do ask each customer to fill out a registration card, and the card has a place where you put the model, color, and license number. I never check it, though.”

“That’s all right. We can go through the registration cards later. But first, I want you to try and put yourself back to where you were and try to recall what was going on while you were running away. Did you hear anything?”

The girl’s heart raced as she imagined herself back at the scene. “Uh . . . yeah, now that I’m thinking about it, the one guy yelled for me to stop. Then he screamed out to the other guy.”

“He did? Okay, good. What did he scream?”

“I’m trying to think, it was uh . . . it was a name . . . yeah, he shouted the other guy’s name.”

“Very good.” Parker urged, “Now, think real hard and try to remember. Was it a common name or a strange name? Was it a short name or a long name?”

“Short, I think, and it started with a T, like Tony or Travis, but different.”

“Okay, keep that thought, and let’s go back to the man that dropped you. Try to picture him in front of you and consider his size, his clothing, his voice, the color of his hair.”

Tears returned in earnest now. “Oh, I just don’t know. I was so scared. I think he wasn’t that big and not too old. I mean, his voice was kind of young, but not a teenager. Definitely older than that.”

“Very good. This will help,” Parker said softly. “And I don’t mean to put any more pressure on you, but if we took you out to where you were rescued, do you think you could lead us to the car?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m up to that right now.” Chrissy started shivering and folded her arms around her body. “I mean, going back in the woods—what if those men are still there?”

“Ms. Carbone . . .”

“Please call me Chrissy.”

“Very well, Chrissy. You’re safe with us. We’ll have plenty of back up—and frankly, I doubt they’ll still be there. It’s a safe bet they took off right after they realized you were rescued. I just want to examine the scene.”

“Still, even if I could find the strength, I don’t know if I could find my way back. Like I said, I just ran. I was lucky enough to run in the right direction. I mean, if I ran another way, I may never have found the road, and then I’d be . . .” Chrissy put her head in her hands and sobbed. “Oh, my God, I don’t even want to think about what could have happened to me.”

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