Johnny Revenge

by Remington Kane

  As Traveler, he was never reckless, and he chose his victims carefully. The reason why prostitutes were his targets of choice was simple: they were easy prey whom the police rarely gave a damn about. He didn’t think of them as surrogates for his mother or any of that psychological nonsense, it was just that they made for good victims.

  If he had been murdering women who worked in offices, the authorities would have devoted ten times the resources it had to tracking him down. But, kill a hooker, slay a hundred hookers, and it’s almost looked upon as business as usual by the cops.

  It also helped that he never stayed in one area too long. If he had been killing in one locale that would have been a different thing altogether. Even the cops in a city like Los Angeles would have come after him hard had he been leaving bodies for them to clean up several times a year. By expanding his killing field, he spread out his victims. This left his pursuers in each jurisdiction with a single case to deal with instead of a series of murders. That wasn’t true anymore now that the FBI was making his capture a priority.

  Wildcard, whoever he was, had managed to link himself to Traveler. Wildcard murdered average citizens, not drug-addicted prostitutes. Because of that, an FBI task force was now involved, that is, if the Techno-Tattler could be believed.

  John had listened patiently while his little brother whined about being kept in a jail cell for a few hours. Meanwhile, the lucky prick had gained control of the family home and property.

  As the oldest son, John thought at least half of the house and land should be his, but if he ever returned to Sanguine the cops would be all over him. Never mind that the robbery he committed there was over twenty years ago and past the statute of limitations. That wouldn’t mean a thing.

  There were questions he couldn’t answer. Like where had he been all these years, and why is there no record of him ever being employed or owning a car or home?

  John had gone underground a long time ago; he had no intention of ever living a normal life. Now, with the cops on the verge of tying him to the Traveler murders, he’d be lucky to avoid prison.

  It was a good thing he’d had a way to contact Joey. Joey, who had changed his name to Jude. What was up with that? Didn’t he know that it didn’t matter what you called yourself? All that mattered was who you were.

  John had barely given his little brother a thought over the years. When they had run into each other outside Pittsburgh last year, he’d only recognized him because Joey looked so much like himself, only he had their mother’s eyes.

  Joey, now Jude, was rich. He had offered to help John when they met on the road and John had told him to keep his money. But now, Joey could assist him in getting away.

  “I need money, Joey, a lot of money. Can you help me with that?”

  “Money for a good lawyer?”

  “Hell no, I need money to live on after I get to Mexico. If I stay in the states, the FBI will lock me up for life. Will you help me?”

  “They must be keeping an eye on my accounts, Johnny, but I do have some money here at home.”

  “How much?”

  “A hundred thousand dollars.”

  “In cash?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Damn, Joey. How rich are you?”

  “Rich enough to help you.”

  “We can’t meet anywhere; they would follow you. I’ll have to come there.”

  “All right, but when will you get here?”

  “I’m not sure, but soon. Keep that money handy and I’ll come to you, and Joey?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t say shit to anybody, and don’t believe the FBI’s lies. No matter what result they get from that DNA test they’ll tell you that it matches. They lie about everything.”

  “I won’t say a word, and get here soon. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  Damn right he would get there soon, for a hundred-thousand, hell yes. Joey would likely have a car he could use as well.

  After stubbing out his cigarette with his boot, John leaned back against a brick wall and went over the conversation he’d had with his brother.

  Their old man had killed their mother and that French artist she was screwing. John laughed. He wouldn’t have thought his father had the balls to do that, and damn if he didn’t get away with it too.

  John only hoped he killed the Frenchman first, so that his mother would know what was in store for her. The dirty whore had it coming for screwing around like that.

  John held no love for his father, who’d often beat him, but he was glad he had killed their mother. She had been no better than a whore, just like the women he killed, and she got what she deserved.

  After realizing he was cold, John went back inside the rooming house. It was time to pack up his lone bag and hit the road. After twenty-two years, he was going home.

  * * *

  In Sanguine, FBI agents Owens, Novac, and Carson were grinning at each other as they sat in the black SUV, which was their service vehicle. The trio had just listened in on the call Jude Rowland had made to his brother.

  Prior to being assigned to work on major crimes, Owens was involved in investigating alleged drug kingpins. During those years he gained a wealth of experience, including the ability to locate and uncover hidden safes and hiding places.

  When all of Connors’ people went to the cottage to view the bodies that had been uncovered, Owens stayed in Jude’s home and searched it along with Carson. He’d found the hidden compartment built into the porch’s floor within minutes.

  Afterward, he contacted Whitford. An FBI task force can wield great influence when needed. They’re also given priority and leeway when it comes to getting federal warrants. Whitford obtained authorization to install software on Jude’s hidden cell phone.

  In-between the time the police left the house and Jude returned, Agent Carson and two technicians flown in from the Boston field office went to work. A tap was placed on the phone. They had also copied down the serial numbers of the two unregistered guns and photographed the bills secreted away. All of this had been done without the knowledge or cooperation of the Sanguine police department.

  “It sounds like John Revene will be coming to see his brother soon,” Owens said. “We’ll make certain he’s walking into a trap.”

  Erica smiled. “We may be on the verge of capturing Traveler.”

  Despite her joy at the break in the case, Erica was disappointed that Jude was still keeping things from them. That said, his side of the conversation did seem to indicate that he was innocent. His offer to help his brother was understandable, as was his desire to believe that John wasn’t capable of murder.

  “I say we keep the chief out of the loop a little longer,” Owens said.

  “I made that suggestion to Whitford as well. He agreed and won’t be checking in with Connors when they get here tomorrow. In the meantime, we’ll rely on the surveillance the chief already has in place at Jude’s house.”

  “That might not be enough,” Carson said, “John Revene could approach the home through the woods.”

  “True, but it will take him time to get here; we’ll have agents and equipment in place by then,” Owens said.

  Troy Carson grinned at them. “Thanks for including me in on this. Being involved in the capture of a serial killer like Traveler would be wicked.”

  Owens laughed at Carson’s use of the word, wicked. “How old are you, Troy?”

  “I’m twenty-four.”

  “I didn’t get a shot at a big case until I was over thirty, but you deserve it. You do good work.”

  “Thanks, Brad.”

  Owens noticed Erica’s pensive expression and asked her about it.

  “What’s on your mind, partner?”

  “This case. No matter what aspect of it you look at, it all ties back to Jude Rowland.”

  “You’re right, which either means he’s behind everything, or there’s someone using him as a patsy and a shield.”

  “So much depended on that spray paint ca
n being discovered at the crime scene in Florida. If that hadn’t been recovered, we would never have linked Traveler and Wildcard.”

  “Maybe John Revene really is Wildcard and Traveler.”

  Erica shook her head in disagreement.

  “No, they’re separate, connected, but separate. We need to find the link that binds them together.”

  “It’s simple,” Troy said. “They’re brothers, and Jude Rowland is Wildcard.”

  “If he is, he’s the most devious person I’ve ever come across.”

  “Maybe he’s like his character, Johnny Revenge,” Troy said. “If anyone crosses him, they die.”

  “You’ve read the books?” Owens asked.

  Troy grinned, then spoke in his distinct Boston accent. “They’re wicked good.”

  Chapter Thirty

  SANGUINE, NEW HAMPSHIRE

  Erica arrived at Jude’s house the next morning and was surprised to find him standing outside the front gate with not a news van in sight. She was then pleased to see that he was smiling while talking to Linda Perkins.

  The chief insisted on keeping an eye on Jude despite finding nothing incriminating on the man during the search of his property. It must have been Linda’s turn on duty, and she was keeping a very close eye on her subject. When Erica first spotted them, Linda Perkins had been touching Jude on the cheek affectionately. Maybe an old romance was being rekindled.

  After stepping out of the black SUV she’d borrowed from Troy Carson, Erica opened the lift gate. She had stopped by the animal shelter to gather Jude’s dogs. The hounds leapt from the vehicle and headed for Jude as fast as they could run.

  Jude laughed with pleasure when he saw them and greeted his dogs as they jumped up on him. One of the German Shepherds, Riddle, struck Jude in the chest so hard that he was driven backward to fall into a snow mound. More laughter left Jude as he gathered the dogs into his arms, and they licked his face. The sight made Erica grin.

  Once he’d made it to his feet, Jude approached Erica.

  “Thank you for bringing them home; you saved me a trip into town.”

  “No thanks needed, I enjoyed being around them,” Erica said, before addressing Linda. “Where are all the reporters?”

  “A congressman who lives in a nearby town was arrested last night and charged with being part of a pedophile ring. My guess is he’s the new target of the scandal mongers.”

  “Better him than me,” Jude said.

  Linda excused herself, sent Jude a warm smile, and returned to her patrol car. Erica went back to her vehicle as well, then drove it through the gates and up to the house. Jude and the dogs joined her on the porch, and they went inside.

  “Have you had breakfast, Agent Novac?”

  “No.”

  “Good, we’ll eat together, but first I have to feed these guys and give them a walk. I also need to put on coffee.”

  “Let me feed them while you prepare the coffee.”

  “All right,” Jude said, and he showed her where he kept the dog food.

  With the dogs fed, Jude poured coffee into two insulated mugs.

  “We can sip on our coffee while we take the dogs for a walk.”

  Erica agreed, and soon found herself strolling along a snow-covered path. She had on boots she had bought in town the previous day, and so the snow was no bother. After walking a hundred feet from the house, Jude stopped, as the dogs took care of their business along the sides of the path.

  “I want to say again how sorry I am about your mother, Jude.”

  “Thank you, but the truth is, I barely knew her.”

  “Still, it must be a shock to learn that your father murdered her.”

  Jude stared at Erica as he said, “It didn’t surprise me at all. My father was a devil.”

  * * *

  Breakfast was a simple fare of scrambled eggs and wheat toast. As they ate, Jude asked Erica to further explain the significance of the DNA test he’d taken.

  “It’s like I said before, they won’t be testing your DNA against a complete sample. Nevertheless, if it matches several indicators it will point toward your brother as being Traveler.”

  “Won’t it also mean that I’m a suspect as well?”

  Erica smiled. “No, it won’t. Agent Owens and I spent last evening going over the timeline of Traveler’s murders. You were here in Sanguine when many of the latest murders took place. Molly Jackson verified some dates, while others were checked against your cell phone records and internet usage.”

  “Still, if there’s a match that means my brother is a serial killer.”

  “I’m sorry, but yes, it would strongly indicate that, although, there’s still a slight chance that the DNA could match someone else.”

  “What sort of odds are we talking about?”

  Erica hesitated, then said, “It would be in the area of fifty-million to one.”

  Jude hung his head and pushed his plate away.

  “I never believed Johnny had killed anyone like the chief said. Now, I don’t know what to think. Either way, I guess I can give up my dream that he would someday come back to live here. Maybe that’s why I’ve never torn down the cottage but let it sit empty instead, perhaps I was hoping Johnny would live there someday.”

  Erica gestured broadly with her right hand to indicate the house.

  “You must get lonely living here by yourself.”

  “Sometimes, but I’m used to it, and having the dogs around helps.”

  “Dogs are great, but they’re not people, Jude. Do you ever date?”

  “It’s been years… the scars.”

  “They’re not that bad.”

  Jude stared at her. “Do you still consider me a suspect in the Wildcard case?”

  “Yes, because of the evidence against you.”

  “But you don’t think I’m a murderer, I can tell. When this is over…”

  “Yes?”

  Jude looked away as he said, “Maybe we could date?”

  “I’m flattered, but I live in Washington DC. You should date someone closer to home, like Linda Perkins.”

  Jude’s head shot up. “Linda?”

  “Why not? You seemed friendly with her out at the gate, and she’s not the squeamish and immature girl she once was.”

  “She’s still beautiful though,” Jude said.

  “You obviously like her. You placed that portable toilet outside for her to use and she told me that you asked Molly to bring peach cobbler and coffee out to her patrol car the other day.”

  “Maybe I was just being nice.”

  “And maybe you’re tired of being lonely.”

  * * *

  Jude walked Erica to her vehicle as they discussed the repercussions of the Techno-Tattler’s blog posts about him.

  “I see your books are selling like crazy; it’s too bad you’re also getting so many bad reviews.”

  “Those reviews are being removed. They were obviously meant as snide comments and only put up as pranks. When all this is over, my ratings should be about where they were before all this started.”

  “The Bureau looked into it, and the Techno-Tattler was tipped off by an anonymous source in this area.”

  “It was Chief Connors,” Jude said.

  “I know he doesn’t like you, but he’d be foolish to risk his reputation that way.”

  “It was him, unless you know different.”

  “As I said, the Bureau is looking into it, but we might never know.”

  “It was him.”

  “You really don’t like Connors, do you?”

  “Do you blame me?”

  “I guess not.”

  They stared at each other for a moment before Jude waved goodbye and turned to walk back into the house. Once again, Erica felt an attraction to Jude. If he weren’t a suspect and lived closer to her, she’d consider dating him.

  Her sister, Cassie, said that Erica was drawn to men with a wound she could help to heal. Jude Rowland fit that description well, and he had the
face of an angel. Thinking the word angel brought Angel Alvarez to mind.

  Cassie had also remarked on Erica’s attraction to bad boys. That had been true when she was a teen, but Erica thought she was past that stage. In Angel’s case, he fit both categories, he was a former bad boy who was now a man damaged by his past and looking to heal his life and start over.

  Erica smiled as she thought of her last encounter with Angel. She realized that she would like to see him again.

  She pushed Angel from her mind and thought about the case. Jude Rowland would give new meaning to the term bad boy if he proved to be guilty. Whether he was a murderer or a mere troubled soul, Erica felt an attraction for Jude. It was something she guarded against.

  If he was guilty, if he was Wildcard, she would nail his hide to the wall. Erica drove out the gate and noticed that Linda Perkins had been replaced by a black male officer. She smiled at the man and he stared back at her impassively.

  Not a fan of the FBI, hmm? Erica thought. Maybe I wouldn’t be either if I was a small-town cop.

  Erica drove away from the home of Jude Rowland, more determined than ever to find out the truth.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  SANGUINE, NEW HAMPSHIRE

  Jude’s expedited DNA results came back. He was considered “not-excluded” when tested against an inconclusive sample of Traveler’s DNA. The Traveler DNA belonged to his brother, John G. Revene.

  In Dallas, Agent Whitford’s Traveler task force placed John Revene at the top of their suspect list and a nationwide All-Points Bulletin was issued for his apprehension.

  Thanks to the phone conversation they were able to intercept between Jude and his brother, the FBI was aware that John had been in Ohio and was on his way to New Hampshire. Local FBI agents entered the rooming house an hour after John had left it and collected fingerprints, along with hair and skin samples.