“I will need all the numbers in and out on this phone, John, as they happen.”
“I’ll get right on it,” the assistant district attorney replied. He got up and said good night to Gina, who never left until he did. He got in his car and drove over to Rachelle’s house. He got out of his car and waved to the officers sitting in their car on Prospect Street. He knocked on the door, and Madison greeted him and let him into the house to speak to Rachelle.
“I’ll be in my room, Rachelle, if you need me,” she said to her sister as she gave them their privacy. Once the door was shut, Detective Lieutenant Cronin began talking.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“It’s going,” she answered.
The Detective replied, “The woman who started all of this with the kidnapping of Debbie Lance is now home. She’s only five minutes away from here, but she has an ankle monitor. Her movements are constantly watched. I have reason to believe her release will bring all of this to a climax. I would prefer that you did not go out for the next 24 hours at least.”
Rachelle started to interrupt him by starting to speak about Twitter, but he put his fingers up to her lips. He shook his head no to tell her silently not to talk about that subject at this time.
“Just stay in and know they have FBI agents watching her place at Fairview. I will be in touch with you. Just be cool over the next 24 hours. If you need anything, give me a call or send your sister out, but really, stay indoors.” She nodded her head as he said good night.
As he approached the door, he looked at Rachelle and said, “You know, Rachelle, if you didn’t have love for someone in your heart, you wouldn’t be feeling the pain that you have.”
She smiled at the detective lieutenant as she shut the door behind him.
Paul gave his father a call to check up on him, and everything was fine. In fact, he said to him, “Son, I don’t think the state of Florida can afford to watch me.”
“Well, Dad,” Paul replied, “they are going to have to find a way for now. OK, time for my nap. I have to get up in a few hours so Bud is not alone tonight.”
“Be careful, son, you are all I have.”
“OK, Dad, talk tomorrow.” Paul put the phone down and sent Rachelle a text.
“Hi,” She answered back, “were your ears ringing? We were just talking about you.”
He texted back, “Really? That’s nice. Have a good night.”
He put the charger on his BlackBerry and lay down on his bed after setting the alarm for 10:30 pm. He wouldn’t see Rachelle’s reply to him saying, “I miss our talks,” until after he woke up.
Paul woke up at 10:31 pm and lay in bed until it was almost 11:00 pm. He put on his blue jeans and a white shirt. He strapped on his backup gun and then put on his main weapon underneath his shirt. He washed his face to help him wake up and combed his hair as he headed toward the door to go downstairs. He remembered his phone, came back, pulled out the battery charger, and saw Rachelle’s text as he got in his car to head up to the Wilkerson house.
He decided to stop at Rachelle’s house on the way, and she appeared to be happy when she walked up to him at the door.
“Hi! Come on in, Paul, it’s so wonderful to see you.”
Madison came out to greet Paul and offered him a drink.
“No, no thank you,” he replied. “I’m going up to give relief at a home for a few hours and just wanted to see how things were going.”
“It’s fine, thank you,” Rachelle said.
Madison added, “You missed Detective Lieutenant Cronin a few hours ago.”
Paul seemed surprised and said, “Oh, really? What did he want?”
“I guess the same as you,” Madison said. “He was checking on things. What brings you here so late?” Madison asked.
“Well, I thought you would be up since the lights were on.”
“Oh,” Madison replied. “I guess that was a sign,” she said as she laughed.
“OK,” he said, “I have to get going. I’m glad everything is OK.”
“Thank you, Paul,” Rachelle said as she shut the door. When the young woman started walking back to her room, Madison couldn’t help herself and asked, “Are you still hurting for him?”
Rachelle just turned her head with a pained look on her face and said good night.
Paul arrived at the Wilkerson home at 11:15 pm, and Bud was already there conversing with Lindsey. They were having a debate about the age of judges. Bud did not believe that Judge Green was only 65 years of age. He thought at least 75, which would make him one of the oldest judges in the nation. Lindsey laughed and said no way.
“Judge Wesley Brown is the oldest in the nation at 104 years old in Wichita, Kansas. He was appointed by President John F. Kennedy.”
“Bud,” Healey said, “do you really think you can win a debate with her?” Bud nodded.
“Hey, Lindsey, time for bed. You and Officer Healey need some sleep for school tomorrow.”
“Good night, Bud,” she said. “Good night Paul. I will have the sketch for you tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Paul replied.
Bud walked up to Healey and said, “Why don’t you sleep in the guest room instead of a cot in the hallway? Paul and I will be here ’til
Lynagh gets here and Dugan is here ’til 6:00 am.”
“I know,” Healey replied. “I just feel I should be outside her door, but thanks.”
“OK,” Bud replied.
“Night guys,” Healey said as he went upstairs. It was awkward, as Bud and Paul were in the living room and kitchen not saying much to each other. Bud was becoming uncomfortable about Paul, and the same was happening to Paul about Bud. Paul was so uncomfortable that he decided to go outside and see what Dugan was doing. He waved to him as Dugan got out of the car and they had the conversation that Bud and Paul would normally have. Bud looked around the house at the expensive furniture and accessories in the house. He thought that the sofa was more expensive than his entire house.
“Damn,” he said aloud to himself, “there is a lot of expensive shit in this place.” His BlackBerry buzzed. It was a text from Lindsey.
“Bud, don’t swear; it’s not nice.” He looked puzzled as he read the text. He went upstairs, and Lindsey was in the hallway as Healey settled himself in the cot.
“You heard me from up here?”
“Yes, so be careful,” she laughed.
“Good night, smart...” he caught himself...“girl.”
“That’s better,” she replied. He looked at Healey as he pointed down the hallway.
“Parents’ room?”
“Yes,” Healey answered. Bud headed downstairs as he put on the television with low volume. Paul was outside with Dugan for more than an hour before he came in.
“Are we going to talk?” Bud asked.
“I have nothing to talk to you about right now,” Paul replied.
“OK,” Bud replied, “let’s just try and get through this, then.” Paul didn’t reply as he headed into the kitchen and poured himself some water.
Bud thought to himself, Thank God this is only ’til 2:00 am.
As 2am approached, Bud received a text from Dugan that Lynagh was approaching the front door. There was a slight knock as Bud opened the door to greet him. Bud reviewed the house with him as
Paul stayed in the living room. Lynagh walked around the house with the shotgun in his possession and finally said good night to the two detectives. As Paul walked to his car Bud yelled, “Good night, Paul.” Paul kept walking to his car but raised up his hand to say good night. He went back to his apartment and climbed into bed, not knowing his life would not be the same the next day.
Thursday, June 30
Paul woke up about 7:00 am and as he always did, turned on Fox News. It was perfect timing because the Fox and Friends broadcast was interrupted by a breaking news segment. The announcer went to a press conference
that was about to begin with Nada Marjanovich, the publisher and editor of Long Island Pulse magazine. She stepped right up to the microphone and began to speak.
“Good morning, everyone. I have a brief statement to make. Long Island Pulse magazine conducted an interview with Detective Bud Johnson, Detective Sergeant Paul Powers and Detective Lieutenant Kevin Cronin a few days ago that will be in its full text when our issue comes out next week. However, we believed it was important to release certain excerpts from the interview now.”
Paul woke up fast and sat up to get a closer view of his television as Nada continued. “When we posed the question of if and when the people responsible for the kidnapping and murders would be caught in what has become known as 'the Face of Fear Investigation,’ Detective Lieutenant Kevin Cronin answered, 'An arrest will be made before the publication of next week’s issue.’ This strong statement is the reason we are releasing this news now. Not only to calm fears of the people of Port Jefferson but to be a responsible news source and let the public know now instead of waiting another week.” The questions from her fellow peers were nonstop, and Paul could not make out what they were trying to ask Nada. She simply put her hands up and tried to interrupt them.
“Please! Let me try and answer your questions.”
She pointed to someone who asked, “If the Suffolk County Police Department knows who is involved, why don’t they arrest him now?”
Nada was a pro. She answered, “Detective Lieutenant Cronin stated clearly he knows who they are and arrests will be made. I assume this means anytime.”
The other channels quickly picked up her news conference and within minutes were playing it on ABC, NBC, and CBS as well as CNN and the Local News 12 Long Island station. Paul was switching back and forth and only saying three words: “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”
He attempted to put his slacks on too fast and tripped to the floor. Once he got his pants on, he ran down the stairs saying the same thing, “Oh my God, oh my God.”
He was in his car before he realized he didn’t have a shirt on. He ran back up the stairs, saying, “Oh my God, oh my God.” He put on his shirt and ran downstairs again and drove to the precinct within 12 minutes. There were rows of reporters waiting outside for a press conference. Paul had to politely shove his way into the front door, where Officers Chapman and Franks were guarding the door to be certain the precinct was not overrun by reporters. As he approached his desk, he saw Cronin sitting in his office calmly doing paperwork. He knocked on his door and opened it.
“Kevin, is there anything we need to talk about?”
“No, Paul,” the detective lieutenant answered. “Not yet. Have you spoken to Bud?”
“No,” Paul replied. “We have hit a rough patch.”
Within two minutes Assistant District Attorney Ashley walked in and walked right into Cronin’s office and sat down as Paul walked out. There was silence for a few moments and then he spoke.
“You really did it this time. We did everything you wanted in this case, but you couldn’t let me know the statement you were going to release.”
The detective lieutenant moved his papers to the other side of the desk and answered Ashley. “I wanted to see everyone’s reaction to the statement.”
“Including your own team of detectives?” Ashley replied. “Yes,” Cronin replied. “Even my own team of detectives.”
Bud looked up to see Police Chief Jameson and the precinct commander walk at a steady pace all the way to Cronin’s office. He slammed the door behind him and stared at everyone in the room.
He pointed at Cronin and began to speak.
“Don’t say a word, don’t say anything, just listen. I really don’t know what the bloody hell you are doing or what you are thinking, but now that you have released this statement, you have 24 hours to close this case or I will see to it that your career is over. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I have to go outside and explain this, and I have no choice but to support you and say this will be over soon. And it will be over soon, right? Right!”
Cronin politely asked, “I can speak now?”
Jameson slammed his fist on his desk and said, “You better speak or I’ll rescind the 24 hours.”
Kevin Cronin looked at Ashley, then at Jameson, and said, “It ends in the next 24 hours, one way or another. My career, my life. It’s going to end. Hopefully it will end for the bad guys.”
“Just what the hell do I tell the reporters?” Jameson bellowed. “Tell them,” Cronin said, “to be patient. They will know why, who, and when shortly in regards to my statement.”
The chief looked Detective Lieutenant Cronin up and down before saying, “Don’t embarrass us, Kevin. This time I want it to be over. You don’t want to see me again in this temporary office of yours.”
With that, he walked out and did exactly what the detective suggested to him. Officer Henderson came over to Bud and gave him a CD of images of the costume styles used with the Ghost Face mask over at Fun World. He studied the styles very carefully and matched them up with images from the hospital. It was totally different. The killer has a sleek black outfit almost looking like it was customized yet at the same time not tight enough to see total body build. All black yet it looked like the chest had a stylish leather design on the front. The black gloves were also sleek leather where the costume from Fun World was all loose nylon fabric. He opened the Newsday where Rachelle’s tweet messages were more prominent. It was like she had a crazy cult following. He went on to Twitter to see what she wrote today. It said, “Today, it is the END, I won’t say it AGAIN, I know who you ARE, you won’t get very FAR.”
Bud read it to Paul and then asked, “Now why would she write something like that?”
“Why don’t you ask her?” Paul replied.
“I think I will,” Bud replied. He felt a bad energy coming from Paul, and he decided that it had to get resolved before it got worse. “We need to talk,” he said to Paul.
“Not now. Let’s get through this for now,” Paul responded.
Phil Smith walked into the McDonald’s off of Nesconset highway in Miller Place with a baseball cap on and looked around to see if three men were sitting together. No one fit the description, so he walked up to get a cup of coffee. The man behind him said, “Here, it’s on me,” as he paid for his coffee. “Please join us over here.” Phil looked over at the table and joined the two men already sitting there in the back booth. Phil sat down and shook their hands. He asked for their names, and the leader of the group said it didn’t matter.
“We are here to help you,” he said. “The voice brought us up to date on everything. Everything happens today and tonight, and then we are out of there.”
“I don’t agree,” Phil answered. “Have you seen the news today? The cops have said they know who is behind this and an arrest will be made.”
“Let’s get real,” the leader said. “First of all, they know you, no one else, and yes if they could find you, they would arrest you. This is what we are here for. Today, the girl will be killed at the school. You will not even be around. There will be such a distraction, they won’t even care or be thinking about you. Second, our contact is back living at the mansion as of last night. We will get the money tonight. You will help us, we will split everything and we go our separate ways.” Phil rubbed his forehead.
“The voice said you guys were getting considerations not money. Plus if the girl is killed today, don’t you think they will have a clue that we are making our move?” The leader spoke again as the other two stayed silent.
“We can’t wait, the longer this goes the more difficult it will be to get the money for you and the voice, but you won’t enjoy it as long as the girl is alive. The voice says now. Quite frankly, you are the only one that anybody really cares about. Be at the mansion tonight at 1:30 am. It’s going down. This is my number to the disposable phone I have. The girl will be in school from about 10:00–2:30 pm. Be ready fo
r anything in case we need you.” Phil got up and left the table.
The leader, whose name was Ron Buckner, looked over at his two friends, Brian Thompson and Eric Pierson.
“When we finish the girl and get the money, the voice will set it up to where Phil is eliminated in a manner he will get the blame for most everything. He wants to eliminate Bud Johnson and expose his partner to the world as well.” Ron Buckner was a tall man about six foot three inches tall and in very good physical condition. He had been involved in a few things over the years with the voice but nothing of this magnitude. Brian Thompson had been a tag along of Ron’s for years and made most of his living as a contractor. Business had been so slow with the recession that he did side jobs with Ron over the past few years. Eric Pierson was new to the group and the voice called him “the killer.” He was proud he had killed five people across the country over the past ten years and had never been caught. It was Eric who was going to kill twelve year old Lindsey today and it didn’t bother him in the least.
“Let’s get ready, men,” Ron said.
Robert Simpson’s cell phone rang, and it was Patty.
“Hello, handsome,” she said. “I haven’t had sex in a week, so why don’t you come over here and we can mix business with pleasure.”
“Patty,” Robert said, “I’ve got too many things on my mind, quite frankly.” Patty got a little more serious.
“You better have how much share I’m getting from the house on your mind.”
“Oh, you too,” he said. “Everybody wants a share.”
“Who else?” she said.
“Gee,” he answered, “you have the voice, Rachelle, you, Phil, me, and who knows who the hell else.”
“We will see about that,” she answered.
“Patty,” he said, “you have a monitor on your ankle; you are not in a position to tell people how much you want.”
“Oh, yes I am,” she said. “You will all help me, or I’ll bring all of you down.”
“Patty,” Robert replied. “You can’t come to the house you will bring all the cops here with you having the monitor on you.”
The Face of Fear: A Powers and Johnson Novel Page 43