The Fugitive's Trail (2 page)

New York City

NYPD Police Detective Preston Alvarez was approaching his mid-forties and had over twenty years in the department. During those twenty years, his blue-gray eyes had seen a lot. This morning he saw barely controlled chaos as he pulled up to the crime scene. At least ten patrol cars sat parked around the office building. Their light bars were rotating and reflecting off the building’s glass façade. 

An EMT vehicle was just pulling away from the scene, its light flashing and siren screaming. He pulled in behind a patrol car and put his unmarked detective car in park. Pushing his rimless glasses up to the bridge of his nose, he stepped out and stared up at the building, forty stories of glass reflecting the midmorning sun. He ducked under the crime-scene tape, gave his badge number to a patrolman with a clipboard, and walked through the unblocked side of the glass front entrance.

A crime scene tech was taking pictures of a body on the floor to his right, just inside the front entrance. A patrolman stood next to him, watching. Alvarez said, “Any witnesses?”

The patrolman nodded and pointed to a black man dressed in a dark blue blazer standing next to the large reception desk. The desk was situated in front of a bank of elevators. The witness was talking to another patrol officer with three stripes on his sleeve. Alvarez walked over to the two men, showed his badge, and said, “I’m Detective Alvarez. What’s the story here, Sergeant?”

The sergeant turned to Alvarez and said, “This is David Leonard. He mans the security booth for the building. He was here when the incident occurred.” The sergeant turned to Leonard. “Tell him what you just told me.”

Leonard stared at the sergeant and then at Alvarez, his eyes wide. “Man, the guy moved like lightning. One second he’s walking between these two big guys and the next, the big guys are on the ground and he’s running out of the building.”

“Whoa, slow down,” said Alvarez. “Who did what to whom?”

“Well, see, the two big guys, they work for P&G Global on the thirty-fourth floor. They brought this guy in thirty minutes before all this happened. That’s when, see, they pushed him out of the elevator and walked toward the front door. The shorter guy—I don’t know his name, but I see him and the taller guy all the time with Mr. Plymel. See, the smaller guy was in front; the taller guy behind. Anyway, see, the guy in the middle is looking scared, man, real scared. Just as they’re going out the front door, the guy in the middle does this karate thing, and man, just like that”—Leonard snapped his fingers—“the guy kicks the guy in back in the knee. He grabs the gun off the hip of the guy in front and shoots him. He did all of that in one fluid motion, man—one fluid motion. Man, he was fast.” He paused and shook his head. “I never seen anything like it. It looked more like a movie stunt, but it was real. He then pushed the front door open and ran that way.” Leonard pointed to the right side of the building.

Alvarez said, “So they brought him in thirty minutes before all this started. Is that what you’re telling me?”

Leonard nodded. “Yeah, man, thirty minutes. I checked my computer log. I’m supposed to keep track of who comes and goes.”

Alvarez wrote in a small notebook and said, “Do you know why he was brought here?”

Leonard shook his head. “Nah, I don’t ask questions man, I just watch the lobby.”

Alvarez nodded. “Okay, Mr. Leonard, don’t go anywhere. I’m going to the thirty-fourth floor and see what they say.” He pointed at the sergeant and said, “Would you come with me?”

The scene on the thirty-fourth floor was the same as the lobby: police officers talking to various individuals, and crime-scene investigators taking pictures. As soon as Alvarez walked out of the elevator, a man several inches shorter and in a very expensive suit walked up to him.

“Are you in charge of this investigation?” the man asked.

Alvarez stared at the man. “Who are you?”

The shorter man snorted. “I’m Abel Plymel, CEO of P&G Global. Have you caught the man responsible for this mess?”

Alvarez shook his head. “Not at the moment. We’re trying to find out what happened.”

Plymel’s face reddened. “Isn’t it obvious? A man stormed in here and started threatening my employees. My security guards subdued him and escorted him out of the building. Now one of them is dead and the other severely injured. What are you doing about it?”

Alvarez frowned. “He stormed in here?”

“That’s what I just said. Are you deaf?”

Ignoring the last comment, Alvarez turned to the sergeant standing next to him. “Go back down and see if you can find any more witnesses. I’ll stay here and try to straighten out the conflicting stories.”

The sergeant nodded and headed back to the elevator.

Plymel continued to glare at Alvarez.

Alvarez said, “When you say ‘stormed in,’ what do you mean? We have a witness that said he was escorted by two men into the building.”

Plymel turned and looked at a taller man standing a few feet away and then looked back at Alvarez. Alvarez watched as the taller man turned, walked to a hallway, and quickly vanished out of sight. Plymel said, “Just that. The elevator opened and this crazed man steps out and starts threatening our associates. He was very belligerent and knocked a vase of flowers off the receptionist’s desk. Then he started yelling. When we confronted him, he threatened everyone with bodily harm.”

Alvarez nodded and wrote in his notebook. “Who saw the man?”

“I and several staff members tried to reason with him. He wouldn’t settle down. That’s when our two security guards forced him back into the elevator.”

Nodding again, Alvarez said, “Okay, I’ll need to talk to each of the individuals who were involved. Is there an office I can use?”

***

Several hours later, Alvarez stepped off the elevator. He looked around and saw David Leonard and walked over to him. “Mr. Leonard, tell me again, what time did you see the suspect escorted into the elevator?”

Leonard looked down at his desk and was silent for a few moments, then said, “I didn’t see him enter the building. I must of missed him.”

Alvarez frowned, stared at the black man, flipped a few pages on his notebook, and said, “Two hours ago, you told me you saw the suspect escorted into the building by two men. The same men he later killed and wounded.”

“I must of misspoken. I didn’t see that.”

Alvarez leaned over so he could whisper. “Are you fucking with me, Mr. Leonard?”

The man looked away, shook his head, and said, “No, I didn’t see him come in the building. Honest, I didn’t.”

Alvarez straightened up, shook his head, and walked out through the front door of the building.

An older man, who had been standing several feet from the lobby reception booth, watched as the detective walked out of the building. He took a cell phone from the inside breast pocket of his suit coat and dialed a number. It was answered on the second ring. He said, “Yes, this is Alton Crigler. Would you tell the director I need to speak to him.” He paused and listened, then said, “I understand. Tell him it is of the utmost urgency.” Another pause. “Yes, he has my number. Thank you.”

Kansas City, MO

At exactly six fifty-eight the next evening, Kruger knocked on Stephanie’s front door. She opened it and greeted him with the infectious smile he couldn’t stop thinking about. She said, “I made reservations for us at seven-thirty. I know the front-end manager. He has a table in a back corner reserved for us. It’s quieter back there, so we can talk and get to know each other.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She wore black jeans tucked into tall medium-heel black leather boots. Her gray cashmere sweater complemented her figure and was accented by a necklace made with pipe bone, plated silver beads and Turquoise inlays. As she passed, Kruger caught a whiff of jasmine. She was simple and sexy.

Dating was not a common activity for Kruger, so he was quiet for a few moments, afraid he would say something stupid. Finally as they walked down the hall toward the stairs, he said, “You look nice tonight. I like the necklace.”

Smiling, she looked up at him and said, “Thank you. It’s one of my favorites. I found it on a trip to Phoenix last year. The person I bought it from claimed it was made on a nearby reservation. But if you look hard enough, you can see ‘Made in Taiwan’ on several of the beads.” She chuckled. “It doesn’t matter, I still like it.”

He smiled and said, “Do you want me to drive?”

She shook her head. “No, let’s walk, just in case we drink too much wine.”

“Then, I’d better leave my gun in the apartment.”

She looked at him with concern. “Aren’t you supposed to carry it all the time?”

He nodded as he stepped through his now-opened door. Ten seconds later, he was closing the door and twisting the handle to make sure it was locked. “Yes, but I don’t carry it if I’m planning on drinking. It’s a personal decision I made a long time ago. I normally don’t drink much when I’m on a case, only beer.”

“I don’t like guns, but I’m glad you had one last night.”

They were both quiet as they went down the stairs to the ground level exit. Once on the sidewalk and walking to the restaurant, the conversation turned to small talk. At dinner, the conversation centered on cities they had both visited and the good restaurants they had tried in each city. After the dishes were cleared, Stephanie said, “So now that we’ve avoided talking about ourselves for the past hour, I want to know why a handsome man with a great personality isn’t married.”

Kruger shrugged and said, “I was once, a long time ago. I met her in college and we dated off and on while I worked on my doctorate. We got along great, until we got married. After the wedding, I taught abnormal psychology at a liberal arts college on the East Coast. I hated it. A friend suggested I apply to the FBI because they were looking for individuals with advanced degrees. It sounded more glamorous than grading Psych 101 papers, so I applied. She disapproved of the idea but didn’t say anything.”

Stephanie smiled and said, “Should I call you Dr. Kruger?”

“You’d better not.” He returned the smile. “As a new agent, we had to move around a lot. She resented disrupting her life every six months and let me know it. Then she got pregnant with our son Brian and things got worse. We settled in Kansas City and she absolutely hated it. One day when Brian was about ten months old, I came home from a two-day trip to St. Louis and found him alone in the apartment. He was in his playpen, soiled and crying his lungs out. I never did find out how long he’d been alone, but I suspect it was at least twenty-four hours, maybe more. She had packed her clothes, a few personal items, and walked out of our lives.”

Kruger paused, took a sip of wine, and then stared at the liquid as he swirled it in the glass. Stephanie remained quiet, so he continued, “Anyway, a lawyer friend of mine filed an injunction prohibiting her from being with Brian unless my parents or I were present.” He smiled and looked at her. “There was really no need. She didn’t try to contact him until he was almost five. Apparently she didn’t want to be in his life, except when it was convenient for her. Brian’s a good kid, he doesn’t dwell on it much. She’s just someone who calls him on Christmas and sometimes his birthday.”

Stephanie said softly, “How did all this make you feel?”

Kruger shrugged. “You can let it eat you up or you can move on. I moved on. I bought a house and my parents moved in with us. They took on the role of helping raise Brian while I traveled and saved the world.”

He paused and frowned. After staring at his glass of wine for several moments, he said, “They’re both gone now and Brian’s in college. During those years I didn’t put a lot of effort into establishing a relationship with anyone. I just concentrated on Brian and my job.”

Stephanie remained quiet. Then she took a sip of her wine. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drag up painful memories.”

Kruger straightened in his chair and smiled. “You didn’t. It’s just the way it is. Now that Brian’s in college, maybe I’ll find the right woman and put some effort into a relationship.” He paused as he took a sip of wine. “Now that I’ve bared my soul, what about you? Why aren’t you married?”

She smiled and said, “My story’s not quite so heroic. My younger sister and I grew up thinking our parents didn’t know each other. They’re both doctors and we never saw them together, except on holidays.” She laughed, took another sip of wine, and continued, “It got so bad that when I turned ten and my sister was eight, we started calling our nanny Mom. That didn’t go over very well. But it did wake them up and a lot changed. I’m not complaining. They were good parents, but they were better doctors. I guess I followed in their footsteps with my devotion to my career. After I got my MBA, I joined the company I’m with now. I worked my tail off to climb the corporate ladder. It’s amazing how many men are intimidated by successful women. I just haven’t met a guy who can handle it yet. I tried at first and then gave up, deciding if it happened, great. If it didn’t, well that would be fine too.”

Kruger took a sip of wine and looked over the glass at her. “What if you find a guy that can handle it?”

She smiled. “He’d have to put up with my traveling.”

“I can if you can put up with my traveling.”

They both laughed and she said with a smile, “What are you proposing? We get married tonight?”

“Nothing that drastic.” He paused, looked at her, and said, “I’ve never met anyone like you. In my line of work, the individuals I deal with are different in each case. They’re local police or sheriffs’ departments, and sometimes they resent…” He stopped, chuckled, and said, “No, that’s not correct; they always resent the FBI showing up. So, I just don’t talk about myself. Talking to you is different. I know it sounds corny, but the minute I met you, I felt I could tell you anything. I like that feeling.”

She was quiet for several moments. “I know, I’ve been thinking the same thing. I’ve never asked anyone out for a date before, but I didn’t even hesitate with you. What’s going on, Sean, you’re the psychologist?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe we’re just two people who finally stumbled onto their soul mates.”

“Sounds like New Age mumbo jumbo to me.” She displayed the smile he was falling in love with. “I thought you were the one with the Ph.D.?”

“You haven’t read my dissertation, have you? It’s titled
Acquiring a Soul Mate Using Metrics of Tea Leaves and Mumbo Jumbo.
”

They both laughed and went quiet.

Finally she said, “You may be right. I always thought when I met the right person, there would be fireworks. I’m wondering if meeting the right person is more like putting on a favorite sweater. It’s comfortable and keeps you warm.”

As the restaurant started to close, they were still sitting at their table talking. Kruger apologized to the waiter for staying so long and left him a substantial tip. As they walked back to their condos, Kruger walked with his hands in his pockets. Stephanie hugged his left arm and put her head on his shoulder. “So what’s next, Sean?”

He shrugged. “Not sure. This is new territory for me.” He looked back over his shoulder at the restaurant and continued, “Have you ever had an evening you didn’t want to end?”

She hugged his arm tighter and looked up at him. “No, not until tonight.”

He nodded. “Me either.”

They walked in silence until they got within a block of their condos. Finally, Stephanie said, “Tomorrow’s Saturday. Do you have any plans?”

“No, other than getting the condo straightened up from the move. Why?”

“This is going to sound strange, but would you do something domestic with me?”

He looked at her and smiled. “What did you have in mind?”

“I was planning on looking for a new sofa and love seat. We could do it together. I’d like your input. Plus we could have lunch somewhere, on me this time. We could make a day of it.”

He put his arm around her. “Sounds like fun.”

***

Sunday evening, Kruger finally managed to find a little time to start unpacking and arranging his condo. Around eight, his cell phone chirped. He glanced at the caller ID, shook his head, and answered, “Kruger.”

“Sean, it’s Alan.”

“What’s happened, Alan? You never call on Sunday.” Alan Seltzer was an assistant deputy director with the FBI and Kruger’s immediate supervisor. They had known each other since their academy days. In his current position, Kruger reported to Seltzer.

“I need you in New York City sometime tomorrow.”

“Again, what’s happened?”

“I got a call from the SAC in the New York City office this afternoon. They have a situation that doesn’t smell right. Apparently someone jumped a couple of security guards in the lobby of an office building on Wall Street. One of the guards was killed and the other crippled. Now the NYPD has called in the bureau because the security guards worked for a company co-owned by a former deputy attorney general.”

“Okay, he’s pulling in favors; I get that. What’s this have to do with me?”

“Well, apparently the two guards were ex-special forces, guys with a lot of experience and training. The guy they were escorting out of the building took them both down in less than five seconds according to witnesses.”

“Alan, this sounds like a local problem. Why do I need to get involved?”

“Because the director of our fine agency is an old college friend of the former deputy attorney general, that’s why.”

“Oh goodie,” he said sardonically. “Who is he?”

“Alton Crigler.”

Kruger remained silent long enough for Seltzer to say, “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I should hang up. He and I don’t see eye to eye on anything. It doesn’t make any sense he would ask for me. Besides, he’s an asshole.”

“I agree he’s an asshole. But the fact of the matter is the director’s involved, and now so are you, whether you like it or not.”

“Great, just great.” He paused. “All right.”

“Good, when you have your itinerary, call me. I’ll have someone pick you up at the airport.”