Johnny Revenge

by Remington Kane

  * * *

  The Techno-Tattler reporter Sly Perhach had been taking photos of Linda Perkins and Jude while they were kissing. As he always did, he imagined a caption for the shot.

  LOCAL LAW IN BED WITH WILDCARD SUSPECT JUDE ROWLAND.

  The news of the discovery of Zach Connor’s body had yet to be released by the FBI, so Perhach believed Jude to still be the main suspect in the Wildcard case.

  When Erica appeared, Perhach had ducked lower, while still taking photos. After Erica and Jude emerged from the house a short time later, Perhach was pleased to see that the dogs were with them. Their absence would give him the chance to do some snooping inside the house.

  The reporter was wearing a hood and his lower face was wrapped with a green bandana. If he were captured by a camera, he’d be unrecognizable. Picking the lock on the rear door took only seconds, and then Perhach was rushing up the stairs to find the master bedroom.

  After catching deputy Perkins kissing Jude, Perhach wondered if perhaps they had done more than merely kiss before his arrival. He was hoping to take a photo of lust-tangled sheets with a package of condoms visible nearby on the nightstand. Instead, he found a made-up bed and no evidence of used condom wrappers.

  He took several photos of the room anyway. Perhaps the geeks back at the office could manipulate the pictures to add something interesting to them.

  More photos of the house were taken, although nothing looked odd or unusual. Before coming to the home, Perhach had taken shots of the cottage. The hole the bodies had been recovered from had yet to be filled-in, nor had the dismantled gazebo and its demolished concrete base been carted away.

  Returning to the ground floor, Perhach walked through the house and unlocked the front door. He would leave that way while Jude and Erica came in through the back of the house. By unlatching the door now, he wouldn’t have to deal with the locks while in a hurry.

  In the kitchen, Perhach helped himself to an egg bagel, which he slathered with blueberry cream cheese. When he spied a set of knives in a butcher block, he took a photo of it, then removed the large carving knife. If Jude were indeed a serial killer, Perhach figured a carving knife that once belonged to Wildcard would fetch a nice sum on an auction site. After taking photos of Jude’s office, and stealing his favorite Montblanc pen, Perhach returned to the rear porch he had entered from.

  His intention had been to spy on Erica and Jude as they walked back toward the house. The FBI agent was a good-looking woman. Maybe Rowland had charmed her the same way he’d romanced the cop. Perhach was looking through his lens with the focus set to zoom, as he tried to locate Jude and Erica. It limited his vision, blocking out the ground while enhancing distances. He never saw the nearby dogs approaching across the snow-laden grass and wasn’t aware of their proximity to him until they were bounding up the steps. Riddle, Clue, and Hunch rammed open the back door as Perhach had been reaching out to shut it. The impact knocked him backward, and he was at the mercy of the dogs.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  FBI Agent Troy Carson sat up straight behind the wheel of his vehicle as he watched Simon DeVeaux emerge from his trailer.

  Erica had given Troy an assignment to follow Simon and record his movements and interactions with others. To accomplish that, Troy had arrived at the trailer park at five a.m. with a thermos of coffee and a bag containing two peanut butter & jelly sandwiches. The sandwiches had been made by his mother, as Troy still lived at home with his parents.

  Since meeting Erica, and Brad Owens, Troy had dreamed of moving to Washington DC and working out of the FBI’s main headquarters. Being involved in not one but two major cases had raised his stock in the Bureau.

  Zach Connors had been Wildcard and the serial killer Traveler had been identified as being a man named John Gene Revene.

  Troy wondered why it was that most serial killers had middle names. In Revene’s case, there was another twist. If you took his middle initial of G and placed it between the N and E in his last name, you spelled the word revenge. And his first name was John, Johnny, so he was Johnny Revenge. Troy wondered if that was how Jude Rowland came up with his character’s name in the first place.

  * * *

  After leaving his trailer, Simon started his ancient Ford so that the engine would warm up. Simon then stepped out of the car while looking around in a suspicious manner. Troy ducked down in his seat before Simon could spot him. Moments passed, and Troy peeked out to watch as Simon went back inside the trailer.

  When Simon returned a few minutes later he was carrying a garbage bag. It was the large green lawn & leaf type. Instead of heading for the dumpster over by the fence, Simon placed the bag in his trunk. Troy wondered what was in the bag and hoped he would have a chance to find out. As Simon drove off toward the highway, Troy followed.

  * * *

  By the time Erica and Jude rushed inside the house, Sly Perhach had been bitten a dozen times, mostly on the hands. Jude stood frozen for a few moments while wondering if it was his brother’s face hidden beneath the green bandana. But no, the screaming, flailing man on the floor was too small to be Johnny.

  Jude shouted the word, “Enough!” and the dogs ceased their attack.

  Erica had her phone out an instant later to call for an ambulance. Perhach lay at her feet panting, as if he had run a five-mile race. His clothing was ripped, his face and hands bloody, and the tip of an index finger was missing.

  When a sound came from behind them, Erica and Jude turned to see three FBI agents burst from the cover of the woods. They were some of Whitford’s task force agents who had heard the screaming.

  Before they reached the house, the front door opened, and Linda Perkins entered with a second police officer. The new cop was about to relieve Linda at the gate when they heard Perhach’s cries of pain. The sound had been faint but still discernable from the road. Their guns were out and held up and ready to fire as they stepped onto the rear porch.

  “Everyone stand down!” Erica shouted. “The situation is under control.”

  Jude unlocked the low swinging doors that led to the kennel and told the dogs to enter. Once they were inside, he locked the large doggie door, but not before tossing them a handful of treats. The dogs had performed well and did what they were trained to do. They had stopped an intruder from getting away.

  Linda found the knife and the pen Perhach had been trying to steal, while Erica confiscated his camera. After he was treated for his injuries, Perhach would be placed in a jail cell.

  “I was just doing my job,” Perhach mumbled through his pain.

  Jude gazed at him with eyes gone cold. “You’re lucky I didn’t let the dogs eat you alive.”

  * * *

  In a neighboring town, Agent Troy Carson watched Simon DeVeaux through the lens of his camera, as Simon climbed into a gray van. The man behind the wheel was hairy, with a beard and a ponytail. He was smoking a cigar and rolled down his window halfway when Simon began choking on the fumes.

  Simon handed the man the garbage bag he’d been carrying. When the guy opened it and looked inside, he nodded with approval.

  A hand disappeared inside the hairy man’s leather jacket and came out holding an envelope. Simon opened the envelope and appeared to be counting something, which was likely money. A short exchange turned into a shouting match. Troy made out snatches of their conversation.

  Simon: “…envelope is short… was even with… last batch.”

  Hairy man: “You’re lucky I… anything after what Molly… she’ll screw up… make a move.”

  Simon, after looking around with wide and fearful eyes: “Not so loud. And… the window.”

  The window on the van went up. When Simon left the van a short time later, he was once again choking on the smoke he’d inhaled. He walked back to his car looking downcast.

  Troy snapped photos of the van’s license plate as the vehicle took off. Simon drove away moments later with Troy following along.

  They arrived back at the tr
ailer park. Simon went inside as Troy checked his watch. He had to attend a meeting of the task force at noon.

  He wasn’t an official member of the Traveler task force, but Erica wanted him there. Troy liked Erica. Not only was she easy on the eyes but she didn’t treat him like he was still wet behind the ears.

  Simon left the trailer wearing a backpack, then headed for the woods at the rear of the trailer park. Troy sent a text off to Erica informing her that he was going to follow the subject on foot into a forest. If anything went wrong people would know where to look. The last thing Troy wanted was to be out in the woods with a twisted ankle and have no one know where he was.

  He took off after Simon, being careful to stay back far enough so as not to be heard. Tracking DeVeaux was easy due to the recent snowfall. While only a dusting of snow had made it onto the ground under the canopy of branches and fir trees, it was enough to leave prints in. Troy followed, while wishing he had on boots instead of shoes.

  * * *

  Thirty-six minutes of walking brought Troy to a small clearing that was lit brilliantly by the late-autumn sun.

  Thanksgiving was approaching fast, and the weather was predicted to be cold and rainy. After that would come another brutal New England winter. During his hike through the woods, Troy daydreamed about taking a vacation in the Bahamas. He had gone there two years ago with his girlfriend at the time and loved the atmosphere. Of course, it wouldn’t be as much fun going alone.

  Troy had parted company with his girlfriend in September, after realizing that they wanted different things. She’d hated it when he began carrying a gun and complained about the odd hours he occasionally had to work. As for Troy, he loved being an FBI agent, and wished he could work more hours. At twenty-four he wasn’t ready to settle down anyway.

  At the clearing’s center was a homemade structure with a roof partially covered in heavy clear plastic. Troy thought it might be a crude greenhouse. Two solar panels completed the roof and were connected to a set of deep cycle batteries.

  A stream ran nearby; the sound of its trickling water was soothing. Simon was at the stream filling a pair of buckets with water. While his back was turned, Troy moved with stealth toward the greenhouse, what he saw inside made him smile.

  * * *

  When Perhach had been carted away and the police and other agents had left, Jude spoke with Erica in the kitchen.

  “Your people are watching my house, hoping to catch my brother?”

  “Yes.”

  “Johnny might not be nearby anymore.”

  “We still think he was the one who killed Chief Connors. If I hadn’t arrived so soon after the incident, he might have come in here and forced you to give him the cash you promised him. He must still want that money, and he’ll need it to fund a new life.”

  “Even so, he has to know that the police and FBI will be expecting him to come back here.”

  “Your brother is intelligent, that doesn’t mean he’s rational.”

  Jude’s face formed into an odd expression as he removed a phone from his pocket. It was the phone that John had called him on days earlier.

  “It’s vibrating. There’s a call. What should I do?”

  Erica leaned forward. “Answer it, and don’t let him know that we know he calls you.”

  Jude swallowed hard once, cleared his throat, and answered the phone.

  “Johnny?”

  “It’s me, and I’m close.”

  “How close?”

  “You’ll see me soon, but I’m guessing you have company there, yeah?”

  “Those two FBI agents visit me once a day, and there’s always a cop parked out at the gate.”

  “They still think you killed those people?”

  “No, it looks like that was Zach Connors.”

  “The chief’s kid? Ha, he must be loving that?”

  Jude gave Erica a confused look. Was Johnny saying that he didn’t kill Chief Connors?

  “The chief is dead, Johnny; the police think you killed him.”

  “Dead? No, I didn’t kill him. Hell, maybe Zach killed his old man, I know I would have loved to have killed ours.”

  “Zach couldn’t have murdered the chief. He’s dead too.”

  “What the hell is going on?”

  Erica mouthed the words, “Ask when?” to Jude.

  “When can you get here, Johnny? I have your money, or I can hire a lawyer for you, and you can fight the charges.”

  “I don’t trust the law, Joey, and neither should you. Do that and you’ll wind up in prison. That hundred grand will last me for years where I’m headed.”

  “How soon can you get here?”

  “Give me a day or two; I’ve a little business to see to first.”

  “What sort of business?”

  John’s laugh was nothing short of sinister. “You don’t want to know.”

  “All right, and I’ll be waiting.”

  “We need a signal, so I know you’re alone. Hey, is the cottage still empty?”

  “It is, why?”

  “Put a light on in that upstairs window, the one in the attic. If I see that, I’ll know the coast is clear.”

  “Okay, but it will be a battery-powered lantern. There’s been no electric service in the cottage since Mom ran… since Mom died.”

  “You mean since Dad killed her. I’m surprised that prick had the balls to do it.”

  “It didn’t surprise me, and you know he was capable of evil,” Jude said. And as he spoke of his father, Erica saw a gleam of hatred in Jude’s eyes.

  “I’ll see you soon, little brother; have that money ready.”

  John ended the call. Jude laid the phone on top of the kitchen table and released a soft moan.

  “I’m leading my own brother into a trap.”

  “If he’s innocent he’ll eventually be released. If he’s guilty, if John is Traveler, you’ll be saving lives.”

  “I still feel dirty.”

  Erica’s phone vibrated. When she answered it, she heard Whitford’s voice. He was calling to tell her that there had been a new call, and Erica informed him of her location.

  “We’ll be ready for Traveler when he gets here, Erica. The plan is to let him onto the property before tightening the noose.”

  “Owens and I can stay with Jude inside the house.”

  “Just the two of you?”

  “There’s also an agent from the resident office in Portsmouth named Troy Carson; he’s been very helpful.”

  “All right, three should be enough. If we place too many in the house Traveler might spot one of you. In any event, he’ll never make it as far as the house. We’ll go over all this in town when we have our meeting. Chief Dix has arranged for us to use Sanguine’s VFW hall for our field headquarters. I still want you, Owens, and Carson there at noon.”

  “We’ll be there.”

  “We’re finally going to get Traveler, Erica; I can feel it.”

  Erica felt something as well. It was a sense of unease.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  MANCHESTER, NEW HAMPSHIRE

  John Revene sat in a folding chair inside a blood donation center. He was in an area of the facility called the canteen; it was where blood donors went for refreshments after giving the gift of life. John was a taker of lives. He was in the donation center hunting for his next victim.

  As much as he wanted and needed the money Jude had waiting for him, John understood that if he got within a mile of his old home he’d be walking into a trap. The trick he’d played with the cell phone had bought him enough time to get to New Hampshire. It would take a greater illusion to clear his path to the money.

  From where he sat sipping on orange juice, John could watch people entering the building. Two great candidates had appeared already, unfortunately, both turned out to have the wrong blood type. There was a third prospect. He was a man in his thirties who resembled John in general build, coloring, and appearance. If the man’s blood type was the same as his own, John
would have discovered his next victim.

  Revene was hoping this was the one, because the man had arrived with a younger woman whom he could also use to fulfill his plans. He smiled as he thought about what he was going to do. Brother Joey wasn’t the only one in the family who could make up a believable story.

  The guy John had been waiting for finished giving blood and headed back toward the canteen area. John rose from his seat and went over to talk to him.

  “Hey, was this your first time giving blood?”

  The man looked at him. Up close, John thought they were an even better match than he’d thought.

  “This is my second time.”

  “I’m here because I need the money,” John said. “Times are hard, man.”

  The guy laughed without a trace of mirth, while running a hand over his beard.

  “Tell me about it. My girlfriend and I are hanging on by a thread. We both lost our jobs when the department store in the mall closed down a few months ago. We’re here selling blood to get money to eat.”

  “Damn, that’s rough. By the way, my name is Johnny.”

  The man offered his hand. “I’m Travis, Johnny, nice to meet you.”

  “What’s your blood type, Travis?”

  “I’m B-positive, what about you?”

  John smiled. “What a coincidence; I’m B-positive too.”

  * * *

  At the Sanguine VFW hall, Supervisory Special Agent Grant Whitford was holding a meeting. Erica, Owens, and Troy were in attendance along with over a dozen other FBI agents. Owens surprised Troy by asking Whitford to add him officially to the task force. Whitford agreed, while saying he’d heard good things about Troy.

  More agents were at Jude’s home and would be brought up to speed after the meeting. There were also several members of the Sanguine P.D. present; the newly named acting Chief of Police Dix was among them.