The Sam Prichard Series - Books 9-12 (Sam Prichard Boxed Set 3)

by David Archer

  “Oh, my God,” Indie said. “Whose number do you need me to find?”

  “Randy Whitaker,” Sam said, “the city attorney. But I don’t want his office number, I want his cell.”

  “I know who you mean,” she replied. “He’s the one who was mixed up with Candy’s ex-husband. Hang on a minute, my computer is right here.” Sam heard her set the phone down and then he could hear the clicking of keys on her laptop. A moment later, she returned to the line. “I’ll text you the number,” she said. “Sam—Sam, just be careful.”

  “Ain’t I always? I love you. Give Kenzie a kiss for me. Hopefully, this will all be over soon and you guys can come home.”

  He ended the call, but his phone beeped a moment later when the text message came in. He looked at it and then punched the number into the dial pad.

  “Hello?” Whitaker said as he answered.

  “Remember you promised me a couple of favors?” Sam asked. “I need to collect on one of them.”

  “I promised you what? Oh—Prichard?”

  “Yes. I need to know if you were involved in something, and I need a straight answer.”

  “Okay, shoot. If there is one man in the world I won’t lie to, it’ll be you.”

  “Couple of weeks back, Detective Jerry Lemmons was approached by someone about doing a ‘scared straight’ bit on a young girl, and he was promised what he called career enhancements if he pulled it off. I don’t remember the name, but she was from an influential family and was running the streets with a couple of punk boys. Shortly after that, she disappeared and it was all over the news. Was it you who recruited Lemmons for that job?”

  “No,” Whitaker said. “Think about everything you know about me, and you should realize I don’t involve the police in any of my activities. If someone had come to me with this, I would have sent someone a lot scarier than a cop to have a talk with the kid.”

  Sam mulled over what Whitaker had said and concluded that he was probably telling the truth. “Okay,” he said, “I believe you. So, tell me this: who else is out there that might have made Lemmons an offer like that?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. If we’re talking about the girl who disappeared a couple weeks ago, I can tell you that her grandfather wields a lot of power, but I doubt he’d go straight to the police himself. He’s a lawyer, his name is James Wilfrid Weintraub. My guess, if he wanted cops to do something like this, he’d either go to the DA or somebody big at the police department.”

  “Weintraub,” Sam said. “Thank you. Got a number for him?”

  “Hang on a second,” Whitaker said. A moment later he recited a number that Sam committed to memory.

  Sam ended the call and then immediately dialed Weintraub’s number. The phone rang three times before it was answered by a secretary.

  “Morris, Weintraub and Gill,” she said. “How may I direct your call?”

  “I need to speak to Mr. Weintraub, please,” Sam said. “My name is Sam Prichard.”

  “One moment.” Classical music began to play, and a moment later a gruff voice came on the line.

  “This is Jim Weintraub. Mr. Prichard? How can I help you?”

  “Mr. Weintraub, I’m a private investigator. In the course of my current investigation, I’ve come across information regarding your granddaughter, the one who’s missing.”

  “Alyssa? Do you know where she is?”

  “Not exactly,” Sam said. “Mr. Weintraub, it’s my understanding that you asked someone to arrange for her to be scared by police officers. Is that correct?”

  The old man hesitated for a moment. “I think there may have been a conversation along that line,” he said cautiously. “What do you know about my granddaughter?”

  “Mr. Weintraub, I need to know who you approached about that. It’s very important, sir.”

  Another hesitation. “First, tell me what you know about my granddaughter. Where is Alyssa?”

  Sam let out a sigh. “Mr. Weintraub, I’m sorry to tell you that your granddaughter is dead. It was during the attempt to scare her straight, one of the police officers involved accidentally strangled her. He and other officers then killed two boys that were with her, and their bodies were disposed of. I don’t know where at this point. I’m trying to bring those officers to justice, but I need to know who you spoke to that recruited them to do this.”

  There was a strangled cry on the other end of the line, and then Sam could hear muffled sobs. It took almost a minute for the old man to compose himself enough to come back onto the phone. “Mr. Prichard, are you certain she’s dead? Is there any chance…”

  “Sir, I’m sorry, but there’s no doubt. By a strange stroke of fate, there was actually a video camera that recorded the whole thing. I’ve seen the video, and there’s no doubt that she is dead.”

  Somehow, the old man managed to hold himself together. “Can you assure me that the officers responsible are going to pay?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to accomplish right now, sir. That’s why I need the name. I need to be certain that we don’t run afoul of someone who can cover this up.”

  The old man took a deep breath. “One of my firm’s former associate attorneys works for the District Attorney’s office,” he said. “We were having lunch together, discussing a case she was prosecuting when the subject of my granddaughter came up. She told me she knew of a way to make Alyssa straighten up but that it would cost, and I said I didn’t care what it cost me. I gave her 100,000 dollars, which she said would be passed on to those who would actually do the job.”

  She? Sam thought, and a chill ran down his spine. “Sir, the name?”

  “It was Monica Purvis, Mr. Prichard,” the old man said, “and I will pay you three times that amount if you can include her in the charges you are pursuing against the officers.”

  “That won’t be necessary, sir,” Sam said, and hit the button that ended the call. He dialed Karen’s number with his thumb, and listened to the ringing of the phone in his ear.

  After six rings, it went to voicemail, and Sam pointed the truck downtown.

  * * * * *

  He hadn’t heard any sign of pursuit in quite some time, but he was sure they’d never give up completely. There was no telling how long he’d been running through these woods, but every step had made him angrier and angrier. They were treating him like a criminal, but he wasn’t the one who had murdered three teenagers.

  Marty had been avoiding roads and houses, but now he was getting tired. When a big house suddenly loomed ahead of him, he started to think about asking someone, anyone, for help. After listening for several minutes and hearing nothing, he carefully made his way to the back door of the place and knocked.

  There was no answer, and Marty felt a despair start to set in. It was almost like he was the last man on the planet, out here all alone, and he was feeling desperate in ways he’d never experienced before. He was a hunted man, Tracy was still missing and God only knew if she was alive, and suddenly it was all too much.

  He went off the porch and found a rock, then threw it through the glass on the door. A moment later, he reached in and unlocked it, then walked inside slowly. If anyone was there, they hadn’t reacted to the crash.

  A few minutes later, Marty knew he was all alone.

  He looked through the kitchen and found some crackers and cookies, enough to at least curb the hunger that was starting to hurt, then washed them down with water from the tap. It was cold and good, and he started to feel just a little better. Refreshed, he began looking around again and found a phone hanging on the kitchen wall.

  He grabbed it up, but there was no dial tone. This was apparently a vacation retreat, and the owner didn’t leave the phone on when he wasn’t present. He hung it up and explored the house further, and that’s when he saw the desk.

  He yanked open a drawer and looked through it, not sure what he was hoping to find, but was surprised when he saw the Colt .38 revolver. He picked up the gun and saw that it was loaded, then stuffe
d it into his waistband.

  He found a ring of keys in another drawer and noticed that there were car keys on it. A quick glance through the windows showed him a Chevy four-wheel drive pickup, and when he tried the key, it fired right up.

  He had wheels, and he had a gun. It was time to stop being the hunted and become the hunter. He put the truck into gear and started down the mountain.

  14

  Monica Purvis was sitting in her office when Karen called, and listened intently to the story Karen told. “So, this whole thing was recorded on video?”

  “Yes,” Karen said. “I have a copy of that video that I need to show you, but Sam and I are pretty sure a couple of these cops have already gone rogue. You heard about Jerry Lemmons being killed?”

  “Yes, just a few minutes ago,” Monica said, “but the story I got is that your friend Prichard killed him. We’ve got two officers who witnessed it.”

  “Yeah, yeah, Driscoll and Slocum. Those two have starring roles in the video I’m going to show you. Driscoll is the one who actually killed the girl, and then the rest of them worked together to kill the two boys. Lemmons had just told Sam he’d give up those two and let them take the fall for the murder when he was shot. Pretty safe bet they heard it and decided to shut him up while they could, wouldn’t you think?”

  Monica made a snap decision. “Okay, look, it’s eleven thirty right now, and I’ve got to meet with my boss in ten minutes. I’ll go over this with her, but you be here at twelve and bring me that video. I’ll go ahead and get started on the paperwork by then. You said it’s Driscoll, Slocum, Forsyth and Wright?”

  “That’s them, yeah. I’ll be there at one o’clock.”

  “Okay,” Monica said. “And listen, don’t let anybody else know about this yet. With dirty cops involved, you have to be careful. I’ll see you then.” She hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment, then picked it up and dialed another number.

  “Precinct 3, Sergeant McLean.”

  “Sergeant, this is Assistant District Attorney Monica Purvis. Are officers Forsyth and Wright on duty?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the sergeant said. “They’re on patrol. Would you like to speak to their supervisor?”

  “Yes, please.” He was placed on hold for a moment, and then another man picked up the line.

  “Lieutenant Stevens, how can I help you?”

  “Lieutenant Stevens, this is Assistant District Attorney Monica Purvis. Would it be possible for me to borrow a couple of your officers for a special assignment? I’m talking about Officers Forsyth and Wright.”

  “Just one moment,” the lieutenant said. “Yes, ma’am, they’re both on duty right now. Shall I have them call you?”

  “Yes, have one of them call Monica Purvis at the DA’s office as soon as possible, and thank you.”

  She hung up the phone again and leaned back in her chair to wait. A moment later, it rang again and she snatched it up. “Purvis.”

  “Ms. Purvis? This is David Forsyth, I was told to call you immediately?”

  “And it’s a damned good thing you did,” Monica said. “Remember that mess about those kids a couple weeks ago? Did you know it was freaking caught on video?”

  The cop on the line stuttered for a moment, but she cut him off. “Don’t even bother trying to deny anything,” she said. “Karen Parks has a copy of that damned video, and she’s bringing it to me at noon. I need you here when she arrives, we’ve got to make sure no one ever sees that damned thing.”

  Forsyth seemed shocked. “Make sure what? I don’t…”

  “Who the hell do you think handed you guys that job? Those kids are dead, Jerry Lemmons is dead…If it gets out that I set this mess up, I’m going down with you, so right now I’m your guardian angel. Where’s your partner?”

  “He’s right here with me,” he said. “Why…”

  “You get your ass up here to wait for Parks, and send him to go and find James Weintraub. It’s lunchtime, so he’ll be at Marconi’s. Tell Wright to say he found Weintraub’s granddaughter and needs to take him to her, and he’ll go along. And tell him to make sure his body won’t be found anytime soon.”

  It took Forsyth a moment to regain his voice. “Ma’am,” he said, “you want us to kill them? Karen’s a fellow cop, and Weintraub’s a pretty big man…”

  “You want us all to go down for murdering those kids and Lemmons and God knows who else? These people know just enough to make that happen, so you’re going to get a little more blood on your hands, got that? And once you’ve got Karen Parks, you can use her to get Sam Prichard, because that bastard has the original video. You’ve got to find him, too, and then shut all of them up for good.”

  There was muffled whispering, and then Forsyth came back on the line. “Um…All right, we’re in. I’ll—I’ll be there shortly.” He hung up, and Monica slammed the phone back into the cradle once more.

  Forsyth’s partner, Mark Wright, was driving their patrol car, so he dropped Forsyth off about ten minutes later. The cop looked around for a moment, then spotted some bushes in front of the building and went to stand behind them. He knew Karen Parks, and the thought of doing her any harm was making his stomach churn, but he also knew what happened to cops who went to prison.

  Karen pulled in a few minutes before noon and eased the car into an empty parking slot near the front of the building. She dropped the keys into her purse and started to get out, but suddenly the front passenger door was yanked open and she looked around to see who was getting in.

  It was David Forsyth, and he had his service automatic in his hand. “Just sit down, Karen,” he said nervously. “Get back behind the wheel and start the car.”

  Karen stared at the gun for a moment, then pulled the door shut. “Dave, hasn’t this already gone far enough?”

  “Start the car, Karen,” he said. “We’re just going for a little ride. All I want is the videos you and Prichard have, and then you can go home. Just start the car and let’s go out towards Arvada for the moment.” He kept the gun aimed at her head as he reached across her and took her own pistol out of the holster she kept clipped to her belt.

  She carefully reached into her purse for the keys, but then looked up at him again as she inserted them into the ignition. “Monica Purvis already knows,” she said. “She’s expecting me any second.”

  “Who do you think called me?” Forsyth asked. “What, did you think I stumbled across you out of luck? Now let’s go. Start the car and put it in gear.”

  Realization dawned on her, and she started the car. She backed out of the parking space and drove out onto the street, turning in the general direction of Aurora. “So, is this it? Are you going to kill me?”

  “Hell, no! That’s what I was told to do, but all I want is the videos. You give me those, and drop all this, and no one will ever believe it existed. You and Prichard let this go, and it’s all over.”

  Karen swallowed once and indicated her purse with a nod of her head. “It’s on my phone,” she said. “Right there in my purse, you can take it now.”

  He glanced into her purse on the seat and saw the phone sticking out of it. Keeping the gun trained on her, he reached in and picked it up. “Okay, that’s half the problem. Now, let’s go find your buddy Prichard. I understand he has a copy of it, too.”

  Karen’s heart sank, but she tried to keep it from showing on her face. “Sam Prichard? I don’t know where he is, I haven’t talked to him in weeks.”

  Forsyth laughed. “Don’t play games, Karen,” he said. “You must’ve told Monica about him, because she said I got to get one from him, too.”

  The phone in his hand suddenly began to ring, and it startled him. His eyes went to the phone for a split second, but then he raised them back up to watch Karen as he turned the phone to let her see the display. “Is that him?”

  Karen glanced at the number and saw that it was Sam’s throwaway, but she shook her head in the negative. “I don’t know who that is,” she said. “I ignore calls
from numbers I don’t know.”

  The ringing continued for a moment, then stopped. Forsyth called up the phone app and looked at its recent calls. “That’s funny,” he said, “the same number shows up several times today.” He poked her arm with the barrel of the gun. “It’s Prichard, isn’t it?”

  “I told you, I don’t know who that is. Probably one of those sales calls, I get those all the time.”

  Forsyth watched her for a moment, then grinned. “You’re sweating, Karen,” he said. “Awful lot of stress in your voice. Tell you what, I’m going to call that number back and put it on speaker. If it’s Sam, you tell him you need to meet up. Tell him to meet you at that old appliance factory out on Jamison, in Arvada.”

  Karen looked at him for a second and then cut her eyes back to the road. “And if I don’t?”

  “Look, all I want is the videos, but I have to get them. If you don’t do what I tell you, or you try to warn him in any way, I’m gonna do what I have to do. You got kids, Karen, don’t you want to go home to them tonight?”

  Karen swallowed hard and looked at Forsyth again. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I do.”

  Forsyth nodded, then hit the call-back icon. On speaker, the phone rang only once before Sam answered.

  “Karen, don’t go to Monica! I just found out she’s the one who set this all up with Lemmons.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Karen said, “I found that out, too. Sam, we need to meet up. You know that old factory in Arvada, where they used to make refrigerators? How soon can you get there?”

  “I know the place. I’m probably thirty minutes away.”

  Karen glanced at Forsyth. “Okay, so am I. I’ll see you there, and we can talk this over and decide what to do.”