Johnny Revenge

by Remington Kane

  The only news was that they had identified the cell phone Traveler had used to contact Jude. Its owner was a nurse in her twenties, and yes, thank God, she was still alive. The phone had been stolen from a car in the parking lot of a hospital that was only seventeen miles from Sanguine.

  Whitford kept the meeting short while handing out assignments and schedules. It was clear that he expected Traveler to make contact with Jude within a day or two. Whitford was doing everything he could to make certain John was captured when that happened.

  “Once this fly gets in our web there’s no way he’s getting out,” Whitford told them. As he’d earlier stated on the phone, Erica, Owens, and Troy would be in the house with Jude.

  When one of the agents questioned the wisdom of leaving a cop in sight outside Jude’s gate, Whitford explained his reasoning.

  “Traveler would sense something was wrong if there were no signs of surveillance. That said, we don’t need a repeat of the other night. Chief Dix’s officers will be backed up by our people who will ride along in the patrol cars. These will be four hour shifts with breaks in between. I want everyone to be well-rested and on alert. Those of you who will be on watch in the trees near the house will be the exception. Changing shifts too often would increase the odds of your being spotted. So dress for the weather and bring along food and a hot beverage. We’re going to get this bastard, people. Traveler is going down.”

  * * *

  When the meeting ended, Troy filled Erica in on his morning of tailing Simon DeVeaux, complete with photos. When he told her what Simon was up to, she seemed saddened by the news.

  “He’s a drug dealer?”

  Troy held up a hand and shook it from side to side. “Technically, yes, but he’s far from a drug kingpin. I doubt he has more than a dozen plants in that greenhouse of his.”

  Erica pointed at one of the photos Troy had printed out.

  “We need to identify the man he sold to.”

  “Already done,” Troy said. “The guy in the van is Luther Carmichael. He’s forty-one and has been arrested for assault and auto theft in the past. Carmichael served a five-year term for attempted murder. All of that took place before he was thirty. The attempted murder was a murder-for-hire, but the victim survived the shooting.”

  “Is he employed anywhere?”

  “He does odd jobs as a handyman, but he’s obviously involved in drug dealing too.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “He rents a small house here in town.”

  “Find out who owns the house.”

  “I did. It’s owned by Mrs. Molly Jackson. It’s the house she lived in before Rowland bought her new place.”

  “Molly Jackson?”

  “That’s right.”

  Erica was staring at a picture of Carmichael’s van. Troy pointed at it.

  “According to the registration, that van once belonged to Rafe Jackson. He was Molly Jackson’s late husband. Molly sold it to Luther Carmichael after her husband died.”

  Erica stared at Troy for a moment. The young agent had done more than she’d asked for on his own initiative. His information was giving her a lot to think about. She returned her attention to the photo of the van.

  “Another Dodge Ram, although this one is gray, but I would bet you at night, under the harsh light of a streetlamp, it might appear to be white.”

  Troy gave her a funny look. “Are you thinking this might be tied to Wildcard in some way?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But I thought that case was closed, and that Zach Connors was the killer.”

  “That’s true, officially, still…”

  “What?”

  Erica smiled at Troy. “After you’ve been doing this for a while, you’ll develop an instinct about things, and my instincts are telling me that something isn’t right.”

  “Are you saying that Zach Connors was framed?”

  “I’m saying that I still have doubts. Sometimes it turns out to mean something and at other times it’s just anxiety. The last thing I ever want to do is mar an innocent man’s reputation, whether he’s dead or not. The family and friends he left behind shouldn’t have to suffer needless shame. It would also mean that the guilty went free, and I’ll never let that happen, not for something as serious as murder.”

  “Do you want me to keep following Simon DeVeaux?”

  “No, take a break and then we’ll rendezvous back here for the trip to Rowland’s house, and Troy, great work.”

  “Thanks, Erica. And what about those other projects you asked me for, should I keep on that?”

  Erica hesitated. She had asked Troy to take a second look into Jude Rowland’s background, along with another task. With the Wildcard case marked as solved, there seemed to be no point in examining Jude’s past. The FBI’s analysts had done so already, and in great detail, but it sometimes helped to cover ground more than once.

  “You can let the deep background info on Jude Rowland go, but keep working on that other project.”

  “I’ll still compile a report on what I have on Rowland and send it to you, if that’s okay?”

  “Do that, and thanks again.”

  As Troy walked off, Erica studied the surveillance photos of Simon DeVeaux that Troy had transferred to her phone. She had proof that Simon DeVeaux was involved in criminal activity, the next step was to determine if he was more than a minor player in the drug world.

  * * *

  Travis’s girlfriend was named Mindy. Her dark hair framed a thin face with large brown eyes. Travis introduced her to John, who then looked down at his watch.

  “I’ve got to get going so I can pick up my daughter from school, but it was nice meeting you two.”

  The couple told John goodbye and sat together, each with a chocolate chip cookie in hand.

  John returned to the street where he got behind the wheel of an ancient Buick he’d stolen. The car was so old that he didn’t have to worry about theft deterrents. He was able to boost it by using a screw driver in the ignition on the steering column. The gas gauge on the beater didn’t work. That was okay; it had given John an idea.

  Travis and Mindy left the blood donation center and walked down to the highway, New Hampshire 28-A. From there, they headed south and wound up at a small home on one of the side streets. Given Travis’s tale of woe, John wondered if they were renters or owners. If they owned the house, they’d likely be foreclosed on soon.

  He nodded to himself. By killing them, he was probably doing the couple a favor. No one should have to lose their home and live on the streets.

  As if it were an omen, the house was located near a funeral parlor. The lot was full, as if a service was going on inside. John parked his wreck at the back of the lot and kept an eye on the house Travis had entered.

  * * *

  The funeral service ended, so John had to move his vehicle and park it down the street at a business that had closed for the day. There was no parking on the street, otherwise he would have stayed closer to his prey.

  Travis and Mindy emerged from the house around seven p.m. and headed right while on foot. They were laughing about something as they walked by John. The pair were across the street from him and never looked over at the car. John was sitting in the lot of an auto mechanic. People in the neighborhood must be used to seeing unfamiliar vehicles parked there overnight.

  After weighing his options, whether to follow the couple or not, John decided to let them go. Once they had walked out of his sight, he strolled over to the house they came from.

  John skulked around the property. There was a sign in the front yard proclaiming that the home was protected by an alarm system. There were also stickers on the windows and the rear door. John ignored them. If Travis and Mindy were selling blood so they would have money to eat, they weren’t paying to keep their security system monitored. John knocked on the back door and waited.

  No one answered and no dogs barked in warning. John gripped the knob and turned it. The do
or was locked, but he knew from experience that people left doors unlocked quite often. The lock didn’t matter, not when there was a pane of glass beside it.

  John took out a knife and tapped the tip of the blade against the window set in the door. The glass cracked, then broke from a second blow. It made noise but it was minimal.

  Reaching in carefully so as not to get cut by a remaining shard, John found the knob on the lock and turned it. Seconds later, he was in the house and staring at an unlit security panel. As he’d guessed, the couple had stopped paying their alarm service. John made a quick circuit of the ground-floor before heading upstairs to the bedroom.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  MANCHESTER, NEW HAMPSHIRE

  Mindy’s wardrobe consisted of mostly jeans and conservative-styled blouses. Despite that, John did turn up a red halter top that wasn’t much wider than a headband. When he came across a pair of spiked red heels, he had the props he would need for the scene he was setting.

  No lights had been on in the house when he entered. John used a small flashlight to get around. Hunger drove him to look in the refrigerator, but the only thing he found were two eggs and half a head of cabbage. No wonder Travis and Mindy were selling blood to get money for food.

  There were saltine crackers in the cupboard, so John munched on those while he waited for the couple to return. To have something to do, he explored Travis’s desk, where unpaid bills were stacked.

  John had been right; they were on the verge of being foreclosed on. The electric company was threatening to turn off the power too. Yes, he’d be doing them a favor by killing them he told himself; life for them would only have gotten worse.

  * * *

  He’d been going through their medicine cabinet when they came back home. Travis was healthy; however, Mindy was taking medication for depression. John smiled. If Mindy thought her life was bad now, she would soon realize she didn’t know how good she’d had it.

  John stepped into the bathtub, where he was hidden by the shower curtain. Moments later, Mindy entered while moving at a brisk pace. After closing the door, she lowered her pants to pee. John stayed as still as he could and waited. When he heard the rustle of fabric, Mindy pulling her pants back up, he gave it a second, then made his move.

  He had timed it well. As Mindy turned to flush the toilet, John grabbed her from behind while covering her mouth. She was strong for such a skinny woman; John was stronger. He lifted her off her feet and dragged her into the tub with him, then slammed her head against the tile wall.

  Mindy went limp as consciousness fled from her.

  While still holding Mindy, John lifted her out of the tub and placed her on the floor in front of the toilet. Before stepping behind the shower curtain again, he removed the top off the back of the commode, revealing the rising water level as the toilet readied itself for the next flush.

  “Hon!” Travis called from the kitchen. “What was that thumping noise? Mindy?”

  When Mindy didn’t respond, Travis could be heard tramping toward the bathroom. He released a loud gasp when he saw Mindy’s prostrate form.

  “Baby, what happened? Did you slip and hit your head?”

  Travis was down on one knee and bent over Mindy when John shoved the shower curtain aside. Travis’s head shot up and his eyes bulged with fear an instant before John smashed the commode lid against the top of his skull.

  John had refrained from putting all his strength behind the attack, since he needed Travis alive for a little longer. The blow was enough to render Travis senseless, and he collapsed onto Mindy.

  John bound their wrists and ankles with the yellow duct tape he had found inside the couple’s kitchen junk drawer. Their own washcloths were stuffed into their mouths to be used as gags.

  Travis recovered first, and John saw the recognition in his eyes. He smiled and told a lie.

  “I won’t hurt you two if you don’t give me any trouble. I just need a place to stay for a few hours. The cops are after me.”

  Travis was mumbling something unintelligible as Mindy began to stir. John left them and made a quick tour of the house, just in case they had returned home with someone. There was no one else in the home and a look out the window for trouble revealed that all was calm outside. In the kitchen, there were the bags of food that Travis and Mindy had gone shopping for.

  The aroma wafting out of a brown paper sack made John’s mouth water. It was fried chicken from one of the chain places. There was also coleslaw, biscuits, and mashed potatoes and corn. John gave everything but the coleslaw a little time in the microwave, as he opened a can of cola. He was famished and intended to gorge on the food.

  Just as he was sitting down to eat, he heard Travis leave the bathroom. Travis had made it to his feet and was hopping toward the front door. John settled in his chair and called out to him while picking up a drumstick.

  “If you don’t get back in that bathroom, I’m going to take a box cutter to Mindy’s eyes.”

  Travis stopped hopping and stared down the hallway and into the kitchen. John was visible as he took his first bite of chicken. A muffled cry of anguish came from Travis, then, he began hopping back toward the bathroom.

  “Smart move, Travis. This will all be over soon, and you and Mindy can go back to living the high life.”

  John finished his meal while wishing he had beer instead of soda. A glance at the clock told him that midnight was still hours away. That was fine, it would give him time to plan for his return home to Sanguine.

  He thought about his little brother Joey living in their big ol’ family home all by himself. The now famous Jude Rowland, whose books were selling like ice water in Hell.

  He still remembered how Joey had looked at him that time in the forest, when he told him he was leaving home for good. Joey had gazed at John as if he were abandoning him to drown.

  “I’ll be all alone with Dad, Johnny, and you know what he’s like. When you’re around, he doesn’t hit me as much.”

  “You’ll be fine, Joey.”

  That’s what John had told him, and they’d both known it was a lie.

  John sighed. His little brother had been only nine then, and he was already too smart for his own good. He ambled away from Joey doubting he’d ever see him again. When he’d looked back, he’d viewed a sight that disturbed him.

  Yeah, John still remembered how Joey had gazed at him that time in the forest. On the boy’s face that day, there had been disappointment, hurt, and mistrust. But in his eyes, in those mirrors of the soul, there had been a look of pure hatred.

  Chapter Forty

  SANGUINE, NEW HAMPSHIRE

  Erica fed the dogs their evening meal, which once more endeared her to their canine hearts. Afterward, she watched from a darkened window as Jude took the dogs for a walk. Other agents were observing Jude, along with a plethora of cameras. If Traveler showed up looking for money, he’d get more than he bargained for.

  Jude returned from the walk and put on a pot of coffee. He had the TV news on in the kitchen where a recent photo of him was on the screen. The report was about Sly Perhach’s earlier misadventure inside Jude’s home. The Techno-Tattler reporter had been released on bail of twenty-five thousand for what was being defined as his attempted burglary of Jude’s home.

  Jude had wanted to add a charge of stalking, but Chief Dix told him that it wouldn’t stick since Perhach was considered by some to be a journalist.

  When the news of the burglary ended, there was more information concerning Jude, in particular, his book sales. The Johnny Revenge series was taking over the top twenty charts in every online bookstore. Because Jude’s books were also available in print and audio, they were selling well in those formats as well. There was also renewed interest in Hollywood. Jude had been contacted by several well-known Tinseltown movie producers.

  As for the legal front, it appeared that Jude was in the clear. News of what was discovered at the scene of Zach Connors’ death had been released to the media. It was now
taken for a fact that Zach Connors had been Wildcard.

  One local newspaper was so bold as to taint the late police chief’s name by linking the senior Connors to his son’s crimes. The paper’s owner was a successful businesswoman who had railed against Chief Connors reluctance to hire women onto the force.

  In an Op-Ed piece, her newspaper revealed the animosity that the chief held toward Jude, along with the reason why. The fact that Connors hated Chet Revene was well-known by many, and he had transferred that hate to the man’s son, who resembled Chet. The opinion piece also questioned the timing of Chief Connors search of Jude’s property. The theory was that Connors was hoping to find evidence that would have assured a conviction against Jude.

  Perhaps the book embosser, leather-bound first editions, and metal book mark that belonged to Wildcard’s victims were intended to be planted by Chief Connors’ son. If the younger Connors hadn’t killed himself by driving drunk, Jude Rowland might have been successfully framed for murder.

  That theory had made the rounds inside the investigation as well, but Erica wasn’t a believer in it. She hadn’t liked the chief, but she didn’t believe Connors had been involved in murder and an attempt to frame Jude.

  At this point, Erica wasn’t certain what she thought about the Wildcard case. Once Traveler was captured and things calmed down, she would spend time going over all the facts, speculations, and theories.

  Although Jude was no longer considered a suspect in either the Wildcard or Traveler cases, he was still looking at a possible obstruction of justice charge for aiding his brother.

  Erica suggested to Jude that he might want to get a lawyer involved, but he declined. He told her he had nothing to hide and that he didn’t regret aiding John, given what he knew at the time. In the days since, Jude had come to believe that his brother was a murderer. It was why he was willing to do whatever was asked of him.