The Promise (15 page)

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Authors: Patrick Hurley

Tags: #Fiction, #Psychological, #Retail, #Suspense, #Thrillers

BOOK: The Promise
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The EMT nurses swiftly moved into action. As they checked his pulse and gave him oxygen, they glanced over at Gallagher.

 

One of them gave him the thumbs up. The detective nodded and walked back to his desk and carefully put the wrinkled paper in a plastic bag for fingerprint analysis.

 

He marked it, FINGERPRINT LAB and sent it on its way through the office courier.

 

As he looked over at his leprechaun, he just shook his head in frustration, “The plot thickens, Mick, I really need you now. Someone has not only taken Allison, they’re now playing a game with us, too!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty
-one--Allison’s mom Revisited

 

             
“The good news Elie, is that we have another clue.

 

The bad news is that the clue implies that Allison is going to commit suicide so that whoever sent this has either may have already killed her or has plans to do so.”

 

              Elie and Gallagher both sat in his car as they munched on sandwiches on their way over to see Ashley Taylor.

 

              “Maybe, Mike, but why would they even bother sending a note if they were going to kill her anyway?”

 

              “Simple. They kill her, her body never shows up or they stage the murder like a suicide and they’re home free. The family accepts the tragedy and life goes on.

 

Someone gets away with murder.”

 

              Elie recoiled, “That’s a horrible thought.”

             

              “Yeah, well, all we can do is to find Allison alive before any of this happens.” As he turned the engine back on, he glanced over at his partner, “By the way, do you know what two famous historical events occurred on April 14?”

 

              Elie pondered the question and then bluffed with a smile, “The Alamo and Justin Bieber got his hair cut?”

 

              Gallagher laughed, “Not a chance. Lincoln was shot and the Titanic hit an ice berg. But, you were so close.”

 

              “How was I close?”

 

              Well, the Alamo and the Titanic were both epic movies…”

 

              “Just drive, Gallagher and don’t talk.”

 

              As they pulled up to Ms. Taylor’s small townhouse, Elie commented, “Well, this is a step down from where she used to live!

 

              Her partner laughed, “Yeah, but she saves a ton on her electric bill.”

 

              Gallagher rang the doorbell and Ashley Taylor opened the door. “
No butler here,”
noticed the detective.

 

“Hello, Mrs. Taylor, thanks for taking a moment to see us. We were in the neighborhood and we had a few questions about a recent development in the case.”

 

              The lady was gracious.

 

“Come in. I want to do anything I can to help my daughter. I apologize for my behavior the other day. It was not my finest moment.”

 

              As they entered the foyer, both officers noticed the several paintings that lined the walls and the narrow hallway. “You have an impressive array of art, Mrs. Taylor.”

 

              “Thank you, Mr. Gallagher. I got that from my father. He loved the classics.”

 

              Elie noticed, too. She was especially intrigued by the picture of Allison Taylor at the end of the hallway. “Who painted this one? Your daughter is beautiful!”

 

              Mrs. Taylor blushed slightly, “Oh, that’s a self-portrait of me, when I was much younger, of course. Thank you for the nice compliment, I guess my daughter and I looked a lot alike at her age.”

 

              Policewoman Larsen smiled. “Yeah, you really did, er, do, I mean, did.”

 

              Gallagher cut her off, “So, Mrs. Taylor, we have some more questions for you.” He proceeded to sit on the couch alongside Elie as they faced Ashley Taylor in her antique double chair.

 

“Justin Shaw was arrested yesterday on a trespassing charge. But, he had something in his possession that I wanted you to see.”

 

He pulled out a copy of the note Shaw had given to him and handed it to her. As she read the note several times, a frown came over face.

 

“This is not my daughter’s handwriting, Mr. Gallagher. Allison has a smaller, more elegant writing style. It’s close, but it is definitely not hers.”

 

              The detective agreed. “We already know that, Mrs. Taylor. Is there anyone you can think of who knew how she wrote or could imitate it this well? A friend, or a relative?”

 

              At this point, Mrs. Taylor’s countenance darkened abruptly. She stood up and announced, “I will not answer any more questions until my attorney is present and I will not, under any circumstances, submit a sample of my handwriting to you without a court order.

 

Good day to both of you!”

 

              She immediately exited the room leaving Gallagher and Elie stunned by her abrupt reaction to their general question.

 

              Elie whispered to her partner, “What in the hell was that all about?”

 

              Gallagher got up and followed Ashley Taylor into the kitchen, “She thinks we are suggesting she wrote the note.”

 

              He saw Mrs. Taylor walk out through the back door into her garden area. As he proceeded through it, she turned and saw him,

 

“I asked you to leave, detective. Don’t make me call the police on you!”

 

              It was time for charm and Gallagher had it in spades when he needed it.

 

“Mrs. Taylor, I would never suspect you of any crime against the child you brought into this world. I know how much you love her. You are the last person on this earth who would ever harm Allison.

 

But, I really need your help here.

 

Will you please take a moment and help on this. Look at this writing. Do you recognize it? It would be wonderful if you were the one who could bring your daughter home safely by giving us the most important information in the case.

 

Would you do this for Allison?”

 

              It worked.

 

Ashley Taylor’s face softened and she reached out and gently took the note from the detective’s hand. She again studied it and as he watched her reaction, she seemed to be recognizing something about the handwriting…

 

              “I cannot be certain. I just cannot say. It would not be fair to the person.”

 

              Gallagher’s blood pressure went up. ”No, Ms. Taylor, you don’t need to be certain, just reasonably certain here.

 

That way we can talk to this person and see if they might be sending us a message to find Allison with this clue.

 

Maybe they really love Allison and this is their way of reaching out to us.”

 

              Ashley Taylor wavered, “Well,”

             
There was a long pause.

 

              The detective didn’t say a word. He didn’t even breathe. The answer was so close.

 

              “This may be written by, do you notice the capital letters and how elegant they are? There is only one person who writes like this, that I know of.”

 

              Gallagher could sense the kill. He bit his lip not daring to speak and say something that would make her upset. The waiting was interminable.

 

Heart pounding he asked her, “And, who would that be, Mrs. Taylor?”

 

              “Oh, it cannot be!”

 

              Gallagher was sweating now.

 

Every pore in his body was filling up with dampness. This could be the break he needed in this case. So close. He could feel it. “
Come on Mrs. Taylor, give me a NAME!”
he thundered internally.

 

             
“Please don’t be mad, but, it is exactly like her summer school English teacher during her junior year. She went to England and took Shakespeare at the Royal Academy there.

 

This definitely looks like her teacher’s writing. I remember she would send me some of his work during that summer and she tried to copy his beautiful penmanship. She came close, but this is what it looked like.

 

Does that help you?”

 

              The detective was squeezing his hands tightly and releasing. Squeezing and releasing.

 

He was so close and inwardly screaming, “
I need the name!”

 

Outwardly he was calm and composed, “Oh, yes, this helps. Uh, you don’t happen to remember his name by any remote chance do you, Mrs. Taylor?”

 

              The lady was spot on, “Yes, I do remember. It was Buckman, Jonathan Buckman. My daughter thought so highly of his teaching that she was looking forward to taking a second class with him.”

 

              Gallagher smiled, thanked the lady profusely and turned to race to his car to input this vital information into the police computer as Mrs. Taylor finished her sentence,

 

              “...until he died.”

 

              The detective stopped in his tracks and turned to face Mrs. Taylor calmly standing amongst her begonias.

 

              “What?”

 

              “Mr. Buckman mysteriously died near the end of the first semester. He was not even sick. He failed to show up for class one day and another teacher came in and announced his death.

 

If you ask me, it sounded more like someone helped him die the way the police scurried around over there. They talked to several of his students, but they finally announced it as, ‘death by natural causes.’

 

It broke Allison’s heart. She was so distraught she came home immediately and never really talked about it again.

 

She really admired that man. She said he was one of the most passionate people she ever knew, outside of her father. Of course, I never saw a lot of passion from Arch, at least not towards me, especially after our honeymoon.”

 

              Gallagher stood there speechless. At this point, Elie came out and joined him. “So,” she cheerfully said, “Is everybody happy?”

 

There was a big smile on her face, in contrast to Gallagher’s countenance.

 

              “It’s time to go, Larsen. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Taylor. We’ll be in touch. Nice garden.”

 

              He grabbed a startled Elie and walked quickly to his car murmuring curse words in Gaelic. It was a long ride back to the police station. Elie knew her new partner well enough to know when to speak and when not to say a word.

 

This was one of those latter moments.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-
two--A night of Horror

 

             
Weekend nights at the Colony were designated as party time. The students from affluent families invested their parent’s money into the high-end drug scene.

 

The serious partying started later in the night as the appetizer of alcohol soon morphed into the more serious entrees of cocaine, ecstasy and crystal meth.

 

There was also a lot of sex at the various parties which were held in the adjoining luxury apartments surrounding the campus.

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