“Yes, I am, Deborah, but I want the case to be over.”
“So,” she answered, “in the meantime, please write the song.”
“All this pressure,” he replied with a slight laugh.
“That’s what women were put here on earth for,” she replied, “to keep the pressure on the men.”
“Noted,” he replied.
They said their goodbyes, and as Bud started the engine, Allan came back outside.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” Allan asked.
“I got tied up with a phone call,” the detective answered.
“Oh, shit,” Allan answered, “it’s gotta be a woman.”
“No comment,” Bud said with a smile.
“Since you are still here, I found some film from yesterday with Smith that you should see.”
Bud shut off the engine and went back inside the security building. Allan had the film set up, showing the Mitsubishi driving through different parts of the neighborhood.
“Here he is in front of Lindsey’s house.”
“Stop,” Bud said. “What time does your camera say it was?”
“12:04,” Allan said.
“Lindsey was right on, wasn’t she? Smith may have met his match in a 12-year-old,” replied the detective.
“Did you get results in on the Mitsubishi?” Allan asked.
Bud called in to the precinct, and of course it was a stolen vehicle from Mount Sinai. He said, “It was found in the Mount Sinai Shopping Center parked near the Rite Aid drugstore. Cronin already had the video from the Rite Aid picked up for review by two uniformed officers. They found Smith walking around buying gummy bears and Southwest Airlines gift cards, which he paid cash for at the register.”
“That’s odd,” Allan remarked. “He still has to show identification if he gets an airline ticket with gift cards.”
Bud nodded and said, “I think I want to take a ride to the store and check it out myself.”
“So this time you are really leaving?” Allan remarked.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Bud answered. “I’m really leaving. Let me know if anything unusual happens.”
“Well then, I’ll call you in 10 minutes” Allan replied. “Because this whole town has been unusual the past two weeks.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Bud replied. “I mean, yes, yes, yes.”
Allan just shook his head and gave a final wave as Bud drove to the Mount Sinai Shopping Center, where he entered the Rite Aid drugstore.
He walked the store for a few minutes, identified himself, and asked to speak to the manager. Bud asked the manager a few questions about the footage and was told the two officers had taken the disc with the footage on it with them. Bud asked if he could speak to any of the employees who had spoken to Phil Smith. The manager led the detective to Katherine, who had rung up Smith at the register. Bud asked her a few standard questions about his mannerisms, what he had said, if anything.
“He told me I was very pretty, but I just said thank you.”
“Anything else?” Bud asked.
“Well,” she replied, “I don’t know if it’s important, but when I asked him if he had a wellness card, he said no, but he gave me a phone number that is attached to the membership number.”
“That’s good,” Bud answered. “Can we get this transaction that shows his phone number?” The manager said he could but would need time to pull out the register tapes from the day before.
“That’s OK, I will wait.” Bud said. “I’ll take a walk.”
He exited Rite Aid and starting working his way down the sidewalk. First the Subway, the dry cleaners, the UPS store. He showed the sketch that Lindsey had drawn, and no luck. He went into the small chocolate store called Private Chocolatier, then the bagel store, the TCBY frozen yogurt store, and even the pizza parlor, Rocco’s Pizza. Nothing. He kept going toward the Hallmark store and King Kullen grocery store, but first he stopped in the liquor store, Carry All, and questioned them.
As he was leaving, the young man stacking the wines at Carry All saw the sketch and said, “He comes in here every so often.”
Bud got excited and said, “This is my card; I want you to call me the minute he steps in this store. When was the last time you saw him?”
The stockman said it was the previous day.
“Please show me your camera footage from yesterday.”
“It will take some time to pull it up.”
Bud answered quickly, saying, “I have to go down to the Rite Aid, but I’ll be back in about 15 minutes. Is that enough time?”
“Yes, I’ll see what I can do.”
“OK,” Bud said. “What’s your name?”
“Ray,” the young man replied.
Bud went back to the Rite Aid, where the manager had the tape transaction of Phil Smith’s purchase: gummy bears, four $50 Southwest Airlines cards, a large Butterfinger candy bar. And he just had to get credit for his wellness card and gave his phone number. Bud called it right away.
“Hello,” a man answered.
“I’m looking for Phil Smith.”
“Why?” came the reply.
“Why do you think?” Bud asked.
“He’s not here right now.”
“Well, please tell me where you are, and I’ll be right over to speak to him.”
“No, you won’t,” the man answered.
Another voice came on the phone and said, “You’re a dead man for calling me.”
Bud was quick to answer, “And you have to be the biggest fucking asshole there is. You are so worried about getting points from Rite Aid you gave them your number. What kind of shit for brains do you have?”
The manager at Rite Aid was trying to calm down Bud and his customers at the same time, not knowing which way to turn. He was reassuring his customers while trying to get Bud off to the corner or to change his language. Bud was too engrossed in the conversation.
“You gotta be the biggest, dumb fatass there is,” Bud said.
The voice came back, “Who do you love, Detective Johnson?” Click.
By this time, the Rite Aid manager was sweating bullets and looked comical from the episode and was very pleased when Bud thanked him and left the store.
“Sure, sure,” the manager said. When Bud left, the manager was apologetic, saying, “Sorry, folks, just another crazy person.”
Bud drove to the precinct to meet Cronin and called Paul, who was with the Anderson family. They agreed to meet for dinner at Z Pita to discuss the day. Bud banged the car, realizing he had forgotten to go back to the Carry All liquor store but made a note to call them. When Bud arrived at the precinct and his temporary desk, he told Cronin about the phone call with Phil Smith and the threat.
“Bud,” Cronin said, “you have no immediate family here, correct?”
“Yes, boss.”
“OK, you and Paul are targets, as are those you care about. Do I have to worry about anyone other than Rachelle?” the detective lieutenant asked.
“I don’t think so, boss. All our relatives and loved ones are out of state.”
Bud sat down and did paperwork for a couple hours before getting ready to leave for the day. Cronin was getting his jacket on when a boy came into the precinct with an envelope addressed to Bud. Bud called Cronin over as he opened the letter. In typed block letters it said, “SOMEONE ELSE WILL DIE, AND YOU’RE THE REASON WHY. STOP THE KILLING OR THE GIRL WILL DIE. SHE MAY REMEMBER TIMES AND DATES, BUT IT WON’T CHANGE HER FATE OR FOR THAT MATTER HER COOKIE MATE.” Bud stared at the note. There was silence.
“Lindsey!” Bud yelled. “Allan!” he started running with Cronin behind him. They jumped in the car with lights flashing with Cronin on the radio to get cars to the security building at Belle Terre and the home of the Wilkersons on Bell Circle. Bud was traveling at 85 miles per hour already.
“Call Paul!” he yelled.
“No!” Bud kept saying. “No! Not the girl! No! Not the girl!”
As they were driving north to Port Jefferson, assistant district attorney John Ashley was sitting in district attorney Barry Steinberg’s office with no Kevin Cronin.
“Do you want to tell me what this is about?” Steinberg asked.
“Not really,” Ashley replied. “You need both of us. Please give me a minute.” He stepped outside the district attorney’s office and called Cronin’s cell phone. The detective picked up the phone as Bud accelerated up to 90 on Route 83.
“Cronin.” Ashley calmly said, “where the hell are you? I’m sitting in the district attorney’s office with my thumb up my ass.”
“We got an emergency John; reschedule for tomorrow.” Click.
Ashley stared at his cell phone in disbelief that he had just been hung up on. He went back to Barry Steinberg’s office to take the wrath and to reschedule the meeting.
Bud pulled on to Cliff Street and drove to the security building, where there were three cars already.
“The girl!” Bud yelled. “Where is she?”
“On a late school bus,” he was told.
“Take me to it now!”
He jumped in, and Officer Healey drove him to the bus that was surrounded by three squad cars and was waiting for authorization to be released. Paul got to the security building about five minutes later, where Cronin was inside. He walked in and saw Allan sitting in his chair with a bullet hole in his head. There was a note on the body that Cronin had with him. It read, “Stop the killing or I swear on the sky up above there will be more. Who do you love?” Paul backed off about 10 feet and started to cry. Cronin asked the other officers to leave them alone.
“You are going to have to pull yourself together and be supportive to your friend’s family.”
“I will be supportive. If you have any doubts, pull me off the case. Maybe it’s time; we need to end it.”
“Hey!” Cronin replied. “We are going to end it! But it’s going to be my way, not yours! This case is bigger than all of us, and I’m going to have to be responsible for this! This is more than a kidnapping or a murder; it’s gotten personal.” He walked up to Paul and said, “I’m sorry, Paul, I really am, but you have to hold yourself together and get to Allan’s family. I don’t want them seeing him like this.” Paul went to Allan’s body and kissed the top of his head. Cronin turned his head to give Paul privacy for a moment.
Bud reached the school bus that was stopped on Barnum Avenue, and as he flashed his badge, the officers let him through and the bus driver let him on the bus. He saw Lindsey halfway down, and she greeted him with a hug.
“Hey,” Bud said. “I’m going to bring you home. Do you want to know what’s going on?”
Lindsey replied to Bud very quickly, “It’s the man who took Monty, isn’t it?”
“Yes, honey,” Bud answered. “He was jealous you made us cookies.”
“Too bad,” she answered.
“Yes, too bad,” Bud replied. “Listen, I’m going to take you off this bus into the squad car.”
“OK,” she said. “But we have to be careful. He was driving on the side of the bus before the police stopped us.”
Bud looked at Lindsey and asked, “What time, sweetheart?”
“It was 4:39 pm when he was in the other lane.”
“What kind of car was he driving?” Bud asked.
“A green Honda Accord, license plate number ZA-4623.”
“OK, honey.” Bud looked out from the window of the bus and called over Officer Healey. He told Healey, “I’m going to take her off this bus in your car. I want the car pulled up to the side of the bus as close to the door as possible, lined up with your open window in the back. She is going to slide into the backseat of your car. First, I want traffic stopped each way. I want the officers looking outward to be sure no one unusual is watching what is going on.”
“Understood,” came the reply.
Bud looked around at the other kids on the bus and said, “Sorry, kids, we will be gone in a couple minutes.”
Traffic was stopped in both directions on Barnum Avenue, while the other police officers put their eyes on the surrounding area as Officer Healey backed the squad car as close as he could to the door of the bus. Bud had Lindsey keep her head down while he went to the stairs of the bus at the door. The detective had the squad car lined up with the back window next to the door of the bus. As he was getting ready to move Lindsey, he got a text from Cronin that Allan was shot in the head. The look on Bud’s face was apparent to Lindsey.
“Why are you so sad?” she asked him.
“People are getting hurt, honey,” Bud said.
“But you are going to protect me, right?”
“Yes, of course. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise.” He took Lindsey by the hand and blocked her with his body as he told the kids to keep their heads down. He had her stay down and then got between the car and the door. Officer Healey was on the other side as Lindsey slowly made her way down the stairs. She laid out flat as Healey and Bud held her and glided her into the backseat of the car.
“I’m taking the car,” Bud told Healey. “Go on the bus with the rest of the kids, see them off at each stop, then have the driver bring you back to the Wilkerson house.”
Healey got on the bus as Bud drove off to Belle Terre in the squad car with Lindsey.
The bus continued on Barnum Avenue as the other squad cars disappeared. The bus made a turn up Washington Street. A gray BMW stopped as a man got out and started walking toward the bus. Healey pulled out his gun and identified himself as the police.
“Get down to the ground now!” Healey yelled.
The man hesitated, and Healey stepped out of the bus and repeated himself. “Get down on the ground, or I’ll put you down permanently!” The man got down on the ground.
“Jesus Christ!” the man said. “I heard some news, and I was trying to get to my daughter.”
“Daddy,” one of the girls said. She started to come down the steps. “Is this your father?” the cop asked.
“Yes!” the girl said.
Officer Healey put his gun away and said, “Sorry, sir. I’m not taking any chances for the kids.”
“Can I get up now?” the man asked.
“Of course, sir,” Healey answered.
“Who’s going to pay for my cleaning bill?” the girl’s father said. “Sir?” the officer replied.
“I just shit my pants, and I was wondering who’s paying the bill!” the father yelled. “Never mind,” he said. “Let’s go, Erin,” He said to his daughter.
Officer Healey got back on the bus as they continued to make the rest of the stops. It was obvious to Healey that somehow the press had already gotten wind of what happened in Belle Terre and the stopping of the school bus. Parents were frantically calling the school and police about their children on the late bus. Officer Healey was a 12-year veteran of the force and a very straightforward, no-nonsense type of guy, which is why Bud chose him to ride the bus home with the kids.
The bus had only gone another couple blocks when another car flagged down the bus to get their child. This time, Healey had his hand out as a stop sign to the father. “What’s the name of your child?” he asked.
“William, Billy,” the father said.
Healey called out to Billy, who came up to the front. Officer Healey asked Billy if the man was his father. The boy was off the bus after he identified the nervous parent. There were eight more kids left on the bus. There was only one more interruption along the bus route from a nervous parent, but there were no incidents. Regardless, Healey was prepared at each stop, whether it was an interruption or a regular stop, and required each child to identify each parent before letting them off the bus. Some o
f the mothers weren’t sure whether to be grateful or mad that the officer spoke to them with one hand on his gun while it was holstered. Healey was only 5’8”, but his presence in a police uniform and his serious demeanor were very intimidating to most. As the last child got off the bus, Healey looked at the bus driver and said, “Let’s go home, Kato.” It went right over the driver’s head, so Healey was more direct, saying, “Take me back to Belle Terre before taking the bus to the yard, please.”
Bud had arrived at Bell Circle and dropped Lindsey off with her family and explained the situation.
“Don’t leave me,” Lindsey begged Bud. “He will be back.”
Bud kneeled down to her and asked, “Honey, why will he be back?”
“Because he now knows I remember everything.”
“Listen, I will stay here, but in order for me to catch this guy, I wil have to leave when I get a police officer here to stay with you.”
“Then, Officer Healey, please,” she replied as her mother held her. “Why him?” Bud asked.
“Because I know he can be trusted, Detective Johnson.”
“OK, I will have Officer Healey stay with you, Lindsey.” Bud went on, “How come you were not at school this morning when Monty was taken and you baked cookies for Allan and me?”
Her father answered, “Lindsey has afternoon sessions on Mondays and Tuesdays where she takes advanced high school courses. Today she only had one class at 3:00 pm.”
Bud kneeled down to Lindsey again as he looked around the area. He said, “Honey, is there anything else you think may be important in this case that you may have forgotten to tell me?”
“I don’t forget anything.”
Bud looked at her father who said, “Lindsey remembers pretty much everything, but you will have to ask her directly, specifically.”
“OK,” Bud said. “That’s good to know. I’m going to bring you photos, and I will want you to tell me if you recognize or have seen anyone, OK?”
The Face of Fear: A Powers and Johnson Novel Page 32