“I was afraid you had flown back to DC without saying goodbye.”
“Our flight isn’t for another few hours, and yes, I had planned to stop by before leaving.”
Jude smiled at her, then offered Simon his hand.
“Thank you for coming. I think we should have gotten to know each other before this.”
Simon shook Jude’s hand, but appeared wary of him.
“Why did you want to see me?”
Jude smiled. “I see you every time I look in the mirror. Except for your skin color, you resemble me more than my brother… my other brother did. We’re family, Simon. I think it’s past time that was recognized.”
Simon’s mouth parted slightly, after clearing his throat, he said, “Okay.”
Jude took off down the front steps. “Follow me. There’s something I want to show you.”
* * *
Minutes later, Simon was gazing up at the cottage.
“Say that again?”
Jude laughed at the look on his face. “I said I want you to have the cottage. It needs work first, but I would guess it will be ready for you to move into within a few weeks.”
Simon shook his head. “I can’t afford this; I can barely pay the rent on my trailer.”
Erica laid a hand on Simon’s shoulder.
“I don’t think Jude intends to charge you a penny; he just wants his family around him. Is that right, Jude?”
“Yes. I’ve lost one brother I never really knew. I think it’s time I get to know the brother I have left.”
Simon pointed at the cottage. “Can I take a look inside?”
“Of course, but ignore that old furniture in there. I’ll be replacing it with all new furnishings.”
Simon took a step toward the cottage, then turned and held out his hand.
“Thank you, Jude. I can’t tell you what it means to know that you think of me as family. Aunt Molly said you were a good man.”
“Molly has always given me the benefit of the doubt,” Jude said with a wink.
Simon entered the cottage, as Erica reached over and placed a hand on Jude’s cheek.
“This is the right thing you’re doing, family is important.”
Jude placed his hand over hers. “I wish you were staying in town.”
Erica removed her hand as she said, “A part of me does too.”
* * *
As Erica rode away from Jude’s home that day for the final time, she stared at him through the rear window while Troy drove. Jude raised a hand in a sad gesture of goodbye, then disappeared from sight as the SUV rounded a curve in the driveway.
“Jude is something else,” Simon said.
Erica nodded, yes, Jude Rowland was something else indeed.
* * *
At the house, Jude stood on the porch listening to the sound of the SUV’s engine as it grew fainter, carrying away the last of the FBI agents. They had left their positions in the forest and cleared out all their surveillance equipment.
After looking around, he entered his home and roamed through the rooms, while making certain that no one had left anything behind. After entering the office, he checked the monitors. All was quiet and there were no patrol cars parked outside his gate. Jude shut off the monitors. The constant checking of the cameras was no longer needed, but he thought he liked having the fence around his property.
When he could hold in his joy no longer, Jude pumped a fist into the air while releasing a cry of triumph. He had done it. He had outsmarted everyone, and the taste of vengeance was sweeter than he’d ever imagined.
Jude Rowland was the true Wildcard killer.
Chapter Forty-Three
SANGUINE, NEW HAMPSHIRE
It began when his father was released from prison. Jude, who at the time was still going by the name of Joey Revene, felt rage whenever he spotted his father strutting around town.
If anything, the years he’d spent in prison had made Chet Revene meaner. When Jude ran into him downtown, Chet had smiled at his son and whispered a promise that he’d get even someday.
“You ratted me out to the cops, you little shit. Someday I’ll put you in the ground.”
Jude believed his father, so he beat him to the punch.
Chet had always been a hard drinker, more so, once Jude’s mother was gone. After years of forced sobriety, Chet went wild and spent his nights drinking until he passed out.
Jude, home from college during his freshman year, snuck out of Molly Jackson’s old house and cut through the woods to reach his former home.
There was no fence or gate then; however, there was more traffic out on the road in those days. The nearby highway was extended in 2011 and an on-ramp added. Prior to that, the street was used as a shortcut by the locals.
Jude waited until after midnight to rouse his father. Chet was so drunk that Jude had to drag him to the pickup truck. Chet, who was slipping in and out of awareness, mumbled threats of violence while Jude loaded him into the passenger seat of the truck.
Once behind the wheel, Jude struggled with the gears of the stick shift. He had never driven a vehicle with a manual transmission before but understood he had to use the clutch. Once he’d placed the truck in third gear, he drove it to a hilltop with a curve and no guardrail.
He had picked the spot out the day before and thought it was perfect. At the bottom of the hill was a bar where his father used to drink in the old days. Jude believed the police would assume that Chet was on his way there when he lost control of his truck.
As Chief Connors would later surmise, Jude cut his hand as he stepped out of the moving pickup truck. It wasn’t clumsiness that caused the wound, rather, it was inattention. As Jude had opened his door to slip out of the rolling vehicle, Chet had opened his eyes and stared at him. Chet’s gaze was intent, but he was still in the grip of an alcoholic daze.
“What’s going on?” Chet slurred.
Terror had frozen Jude for a second as the truck picked up speed. He hated his father, but he feared him even more. For a second, Jude had been afraid that Chet wasn’t as drunk as he seemed. That moment of hesitation cost Jude and he sliced open his palm on the door’s lock mechanism, while jumping free of the vehicle.
Chet was too intoxicated to do anything other than grab the wheel, and it had almost been enough to save him. The truck slammed into a wooden pole instead of plunging off the side of the cliff as Jude had intended. Despite that, Chet was propelled toward the windshield and smashed his head against it.
Jude approached the pickup truck to check on his father and saw that he was bleeding from his scalp. Chet’s eyes were still open, but unseeing. The smile that lit Jude’s face was infused with triumph. His father was dead and would never hurt him again.
He pretended to have been asleep when the then Officer Connors came to see him at Molly’s house in the early morning hours. When Connors spotted the fresh band-aid on his palm, Jude saw the suspicion dawn in the cop’s eyes.
Suspicion wasn’t proof. Jude remained silent and his father’s death was deemed an accident. Having gotten away with one murder, Jude decided to see if he could kill again. Fourteen months later, Jude, while home from college to visit Molly, murdered Jay and Aaron Floyd, along with Eddie Watson. They were the three local punks who had bullied him in high school. Once again, he had gotten away with murder. The thrill of it was something he found to be addictive. Years passed and more people died as Jude paid back those that had wronged him.
The game of chess had birthed a competitive nature in Jude and given him an arena to test his intellect. He also loved crafting mysteries and creating twisted tales. When the idea came to him to combine these pursuits in a real-life game of high stakes, Jude devised the ultimate plan of revenge.
Knowing that his future freedom would be on the line if he failed, Jude spent years refining his scheme. His goal was to payback everyone who had ever crossed him. While accomplishing that, he would use the notoriety of being suspected of murder to make his name a househ
old word. There had been a few bumps along the path to reaching those goals but in the end he had triumphed.
Those who had wronged him were dead, his books were selling better than ever, and he had proven to himself that he was smarter than the authorities. Jude settled in his chair by the fireplace and basked in his success. Revenge was sweet.
Chapter Forty-Four
WASHINGTON DC
Thanksgiving dinner at the home of Erica’s mother often included a few people who weren’t family. On more than one occasion, Carlotta had invited one of the less fortunate members of her church to celebrate the holiday with them. This year, one of the guests was familiar to Erica, and she realized she was happy to see him.
Angel Alvarez arrived with a bottle of wine in hand. Alvarez’s brother was away on business in Europe and wouldn’t be back until the weekend. When Carlotta learned that Angel would be spending the holiday alone, she’d invited him to join them. There were two other guests. They were old friends of Carlotta’s, and like herself, they were widows.
Erica’s niece and nephew, Becca and Brady, were nine and eleven. Brady and Angel talked football while Becca seemed to have a crush on Angel.
“He’s cute,” her niece told her, and Erica agreed. Angel was looking good in a pair of black corduroy pants and a blue knit shirt.
Erica’s gregarious brother-in-law, Mike, carved the turkey as dinner began. When Angel smiled at her from across the table, Erica beamed back at him.
* * *
Jude Rowland treated Thanksgiving as just another Thursday. His childhood memories of the holiday were of his father getting hammered. Chet Revene had been a mean drunk.
After heating up and eating the turkey dinner Molly had prepared for him, Jude let the dogs out for their final time. It was around eight-thirty and the temperature had dipped since sunset, bringing with it an icy rain bordering on snow. Jude didn’t want to join the dogs in such weather, so instead of a walk, the hounds did their business near the house and came back inside with haste.
As usual, Jude was showered with water as the three dogs shook their fur to shed the rain. After giving himself a swipe with a towel, Jude dried off the dogs while talking to them in a soothing voice.
“It should be dry and sunny tomorrow, guys. We’ll take an extra-long walk. What do you think about that?”
In response, Riddle, Clue, and Hunch wagged their tails and took turns licking his face.
As he stood, Jude glanced out the window in the porch door. He noticed a light come and go in the distance, as the wind stirred the leafless branches in the trees. He stood there pondering the source of the light when he remembered the signal he had set up in the cottage.
Johnny had told him to leave a lamp burning in the attic, and that if the light was on, it would mean it was safe to come to the house. Jude closed the door and settled the dogs in for the night on the enclosed back porch. It was too cold a night for them to sleep in their kennel, and likely the first of many with winter on the horizon.
Jude was seated at his desk going over email, but his mind was still focused on the light at the cottage. It called to mind John. Jude didn’t want to think about Johnny or be reminded of him in any way. He shrugged into his jacket, grabbed a cap off a hook, and headed out the front door. He wanted that light extinguished, as Johnny had been extinguished.
Despite the clouds, the moon, which was shy of its full brilliance, lent a glow to the night. As he walked, Jude went over a scene he planned to write the next day. It was always like this with him. If he wasn’t writing he was thinking about writing, and plots and their twists came easily to his mind.
One of the things he always carried with him when he walked the dogs at night was a flashlight, which he turned on to illuminate his path. He was using the battery-powered torch as he neared the cottage, then used it inside as he headed for the stairs. He was on the second step when the voice spoke to him from behind.
“Hey there.”
Jude spun around and directed the light toward where the voice had originated. Standing in the glare of the bright light was his brother, John Revene, Traveler, and in his right hand was a gun.
John smiled. “Happy Thanksgiving, Joey.”
* * *
In DC, far from the rain of New Hampshire, Erica was looking to get a little fresh air. She donned a coat and stepped out onto her mother’s front porch, feeling the chill caress her face. Angel was already there and looking up at the stars. He had left his jacket inside.
“Aren’t you cold?” Erica asked.
“A little, but I love looking at the sky. For years I barely saw it.”
“Are you an amateur astronomer?”
“No, I was training to be a pilot when I went to prison. I had finished my flight instruction… then I never had a chance to take the test.”
“You want to be a pilot someday?”
Angel smiled. “I intend to, but not professionally. I wouldn’t want it to feel like work.”
“I can understand that,” Erica said.
Angel turned and took a step closer to her. “I want to thank you for making me feel welcome today. I thought you might have a problem with me being here.”
“Because of your past? I won’t hold that against you.”
Angel smirked. “Our first conversation was you warning me to be a good boy, or else. Do you do that with everyone that works for your mother?”
“All right, I admit it. I had concerns about you because of your history.”
Angel’s lips formed into a grimace. “The time I did in prison will taint me forever in most people’s eyes.”
“Everyone does something they regret, Angel, but it’s what you do from now on that counts. You made your way into my good graces when you saved my Mom and sister from that murderous robber.”
Angel stared at her. “I’m glad there are no bad feelings between us, Agent Novac. I like you.”
Erica smiled, as she moved closer to Angel. It had seemed so cold when she’d first stepped outside; however, in the last few moments, she’d felt her temperature rising.
“I like you too, Angel, and call me Erica.”
They both felt the attraction that was forming between them, and Angel moved a step closer. From inside the house came the sound of loud laughter, as Erica’s family enjoyed being together. She gestured at the door, as the spell was broken.
“I think I’ll go back inside and give my sister a hand cleaning up.”
“Let me help with that: I’ve become an expert at doing dishes.”
“I hear those days may be ending soon. Mom told me that she’s going to give you a chance to be a waiter.”
Angel grinned. “Yes, it pays better, and I can get more hours, but eventually I want to know the entire restaurant business, the way your mother does.”
“That’s good; it sounds like you’ll be sticking around.”
“I hope to,” Angel said.
* * *
As Jude held the beam of the flashlight steady, John stared down into the hole where his father had dumped their mother’s body.
“She was buried a long time, and here I thought she was living it up in France all these years.”
Jude said nothing. The truth was that he had almost never thought about their mother or her fate. Like Johnny, she had abandoned him.
“Why does everyone think you’re dead?”
John grinned. “Because I gave them a body along with a story they could believe. You’re not the only one who can weave a tale, Joey.”
“I guess you want money.”
“Hell yeah, and with luck I’ll make it into Mexico before they know what’s happened.”
“You’re good at running away, aren’t you, Johnny?”
“What’s that mean? You’re still pissed that I left you here with Dad? I didn’t have a choice, Joey. The cops would have put me in jail for robbing that store.”
“You mean they would have placed you in prison for murdering that prostitute.”
“That’s right, I killed that bitch, and a hell of a lot more since then.”
“I saw you.”
“What?”
“In Pittsburgh, last year, I followed you after you left the bar. I saw you take that hooker into an alley and I watched as you stabbed her to death.”
John let out a gasp. “I’ll be damned, and you never called the cops?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I wanted to handle you my own way.”
John cocked his head as he studied Jude. He still held the gun loosely at his side. Meanwhile, Jude had switched the flashlight to his left hand, so that his right would be free.
“What’s that mean, handle me?”
“I got even with Dad, Johnny. I killed that bastard.”
“Get out of here. You told me he died while driving his truck into a pole.”
“He did, I just gave him a little help. Chief Connors knew, but he could never prove it. I got even with him too.”
“You killed Connors?”
Jude smiled. “I ran his fat ass over with his own car, then pretended that I only heard it from the house. He saw me through the windshield just before I ran into him. Oh, the look on his face was priceless.”
John, who had killed dozens, was stunned by his brother’s revelations; he also wasn’t certain that he believed him.
“You’re making this all up, aren’t you? You’re no killer, Joey.”
Jude moved the flashlight’s beam away from the ground and aimed it at John’s face. At the same moment, he reached into his pocket.
Jude carried two things when he went for walks with the animals. One was a flashlight, while the other was pepper spray. He’d regretted not having the spray once when a stray dog leapt from the woods and bit Hunch on the hind leg before running off again. Luckily, the dog hadn’t been rabid, and Hunch was okay, but Jude was aware that the stray mutt could just as easily have bitten him. He also took walks alone sometimes. It was best not to go out unprepared.
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