by Terry Keys
“You sound mighty confident.”
“Aren’t I always?”
A few hours went by, and it was nearing daylight. I looked around, we’d all fallen asleep. There was a knock at the door and then it eased open. It was Lt. James.
“You guys want some coffee? Something to eat?”
“Coffee, please. Three of them.”
He shut the door and scampered off. I nudged the sleeping beauties.
“Wake up, Hansel and Gretel. Almost daylight. And Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, David,” Paul said.
“What he said,” DeLuca chimed in.
“Sounds like someone’s in the spirit,” I said.
“Not exactly how I envisioned our first Christmas together,” she said, looking at Paul.
He hugged her. “Well, at least we’re both alive. We have our health, good jobs—”
“Okay, you win,” DeLuca said, grinning.
James brought us back some coffee and, true to the stereotype, a box of Shipley’s donuts. I was more of a Krispy Kreme kind of guy, but I didn’t turn them down.
I shot Miranda and the girls a Merry Christmas text before we got going. Looked like my promise to spend Christmas with them would go unfulfilled. I washed down my second donut just as Baines called me.
“Give me some good news,” I said.
“Well, good morning to you too. And Merry Christmas.”
“Sorry. Merry Christmas, old friend. Now. . . the good news?”
“I’m emailing you a link. You sitting at a computer?” Baines said.
“Yeah, I am. A link to what?”
“Your guy turned that laptop on about fifteen minutes ago. No Wi-Fi signal yet, so we can’t trace the IP, but we were able to turn the webcam on. Not much to see right now, but I thought you’d want to know.”
I logged into my email and clicked on the link. I could hardly believe my eyes. There he was, in the flesh—Caleb, pecking furiously at the keyboard.
“Unless he turns the Wi-Fi on, I’m not sure what use that webcam’s going to be to you.”
“Thanks, Baines. Oh, and good work.”
I disconnected with Baines and called Fingers. I sent him the link. I wanted as many eyes on this as I could get.
“Fingers, you sure he doesn’t know we’re watching him?”
“I’m sure. It looks like the FBI overrode the flash and red light recording indicator.”
“Okay. I’ll be calling you back. Keep your line free,” I said.
The three of us hovered around the laptop.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I said. “We watch and pray to God he keeps that laptop open. If you look really close, you can see something behind him in the background. We need to zero in on that and look for clues that may tell us where he’s hiding.”
“You guys see that?” I asked, pointing at what appeared to be a painting mounted on a wall behind Caleb.
“What? The painting?” DeLuca asked.
“It looks like a painting of Andre Ware. I can only make out bits and pieces of it. Paul, use your phone to check it out. See if it looks like anything you can find online.”
“Who is Andre Ware?” DeLuca asked.
“He was kind of a big deal in football. Born and raised here in Dickinson. Played at the University of Houston. Won the Heisman,” I said.
Paul turned his phone to me. “Hey, look at this! Looks like that picture to me!”
“Yeah, that’s it. How much is that painting worth, a couple hundred dollars? I’m betting not too many people have that in their homes. Get online and let’s find out where that painting was sold. After we nail it down, get a list of Dickinson residents who’ve bought that painting and go get this kid. I’ve got a plane to catch.”
Chapter 56
Deluca dialed the contact number on the website. I whispered to her to turn the speakerphone on.
“Thank you for calling adamnfineartist.com. This is Sandy. How may I help you?”
“Sandy, this is Detective DeLuca with the Houston Police Department. I have an unusual but extremely urgent request. It’s about one of your paintings, TSHOF-11-Andre-Ware. I need a list of every address that painting has been purchased from in Dickinson, Texas. That’s zip code 77539.”
“You’re right, Detective. It is a bit unusual. Actually, I’m not even—”
I’d heard enough.
“Listen, Sandy, this is Detective David Porter. Someone’s life is hanging in the balance, and minutes could be precious here. I can get a warrant and have it sent over, but that’d take a while and a while isn’t something I have right now. I’d really appreciate your help here.”
“Well . . . okay. I guess it’s all right, since you put it that way. Give me a second.”
We got some elevator music that lasted about two minutes, and Sandy was back on the line.
“Okay, well, I checked around in two different databases, and I only show that painting being sold to one resident in Dickinson. Name is Robert Jacey, and the address is 555 Deats Road.”
“Thank you, Sandy. You’ve done a great thing,” DeLuca said.
“Let’s go!” I said.
We grabbed Lt. James and headed out. I filled him in as we drove, and sent the info via text to Baines and Hill. I knew I’d have less than ten minutes to talk Caleb down before we’d be overrun by the FBI and Dickinson PD.
We parked a good distance away from the house and headed in on foot. The home was secluded and surrounded by woods. There were two vehicles parked out front—the truck Caleb had stolen and what I presumed to be Mr. Jacey’s truck. I feared the worst for Mr. Jacey and our missing woman at this point. We’d seen no one other than Caleb on the webcam stream.
We’d talked about smoking him out, but I didn’t want him trying to go out in a blaze of glory. If I could, I wanted to talk him out. And if by small chance anyone else were still alive, spooking him might get them killed.
I waited until I got the signal from Paul and Lt. James, who’d gone around the back. They were in place, and we were ready to try to end this.
I banged on the door. “Caleb? It’s over. We’ve got the place surrounded. Let’s end this thing.”
I heard someone stirring around inside. I waited for a response. When I got nothing, I banged on the door again. “Caleb, don’t make us come in after you. No one wants any more dead bodies. I don’t, and I’m sure you don’t either.”
I heard a muffled response from inside. “You don’t know what I want, cop.”
Then shots rang out. Deluca and I took cover behind some trees in the front yard. I’d brought a megaphone with me just in case we couldn’t get close enough.
“Caleb, what are you doing? Suicide by cop? That your way out? I didn’t peg you for being the cowardly type.”
There was another round of gunshots. The ten minutes I thought I had was now probably closer to five. Despite the house being quite spread out someone would surely hear the sound of gunfire.
All at once, the front door flew open. I zeroed in on the doorway and there he was.
Chapter 57
My worst nightmare was staring me directly in the face. Caleb stood only twenty feet away, aiming his pistol right at me. His arms shook as he tried to steady the gun. I was as scared as I’d ever been in my entire life.
I cleared my throat. “Caleb, listen to me. It doesn’t have to end this way. You can still walk away from this.”
I could see Caleb’s gun shaking in his hands. “It was always going to end this way. Me or you—not enough room for us both here. We both know that. Besides, you’ve been chasing me for weeks now. I’m sure it wasn’t to give me a big hug and tell me how much you missed me. Or that you didn’t know about me. Or that you want us to be one big, happy family.”
“You’re wrong about me, Caleb. You’re still young. You’ve hurt a lot of people. We can’t undo that now, but I know you weren’t calling the shots. I’m a police officer. It’s my job to chase suspecte
d murderers. And I didn’t know about you, but none of that matters right now. Right now just let me help you. I know a lot of people. I can help. I’m giving you my word as a man; I want to help you.”
Caleb aimed his gun at me again.
“You shut up right now. Your word? Your word doesn’t mean shit. You don’t know me. You don’t know a goddamn thing about me. Don’t talk to me like you freaking know me. Killing those people? Maybe the whole thing was my idea, wise guy.”
I wasn’t a psychologist nor did I pretend to be. But I wanted this one to end differently than many of my other standoffs had. It might even mean me doing something . . . well, something I would call downright stupid, given the situation. It was worth it, though. I’d already convinced myself as much.
God, please take care of my girls if I don’t make it out of this, I said to myself.
“I know you were born into a really shitty situation. I know you’ve been told some really bad things about me. We found your place. I read your letter. Some. . . no, most of the things I read aren’t anywhere close to being true. You were lied to, Caleb. I don’t know a lot about you, but I know you are a conflicted young man. I know you were a straight-A student in school. I’ve spoken with some of your old teachers. I also know that once they got past your quiet nature, they found you to be a pleasant young man. I know more about you than you think. I know I don’t want to shoot you. That won’t solve a goddamn thing. I don’t want to see you die here today. There’s been enough killing, don’t you think?”
Tears poured down Caleb’s face. I didn’t know if he was emotional because of the things I was saying to him, or if he was thinking back to his mother or his lover, Marci. He was thinking, though; I could tell.
“You don’t give two shits about me. You never have. All you’ve done is cause pain—for me and the people I love. So screw you and your help!”
Caleb fired a warning shot into the air. My heart jolted. The gunfire was sure to make a few lookie-loos wander out into the streets. Not what we needed right now. The shot also reminded me how fragile Caleb was and how volatile this whole ordeal had become. What the hell was I doing here? I looked over at Deluca. She had her weapon aimed at Caleb’s chest. I gestured for her to stand down.
I took another half step toward Caleb. With my gun aimed at the floor and my empty left hand raised, I took another hesitant step toward Caleb. “You stay right there! Don’t come one step closer. I ain’t playing with you!”
“Caleb, look around. Listen. You hear those sirens? There are cops closing in on us. We don’t have much time before this will be out of our hands. And all those guys know about you is that you’ve killed fellow officers. Their orders are to bring you in dead or alive. For what it’s worth, I really don’t want to have all those guns pointed at me either.”
What I was about to do went against every training class I’d ever been a part of. It went against every book I’d read and every seminar I’d attended. I took a deep breath, squatted slowly, and laid my weapon on the ground. Then I stood up and stared at Caleb with both hands in the air.
My stomach knotted and I swallowed hard, willing myself to be calm. I’d just given this killer—my son—the upper hand. “Look. No gun. Nothing up my sleeves. I’m not hiding anything from you, Caleb. No tricks, no games here. But I need you to listen to me. I can help you. Don’t get me wrong; you are going to do some time. But who knows? If you plead this thing out, I can keep the death penalty off the table. That’s a start. We convince the courts that you weren’t the mastermind here. You give us information on the other members, other murders, and who knows where this thing ends up? I know you aren’t the one who hatched those plans. You were a pawn, Caleb. They used you. They tricked you. They lied to you. Please let me help you.”
Caleb paced back and forth. “You pick your damn gun up right now and let’s finish this. No one will ever listen to you. When they get me into a jail cell, they’ll kill me deader than dead So knock off the mumbo jumbo psychobabble bullshit. Look—she wants to kill me now.” He waved his gun at Deluca.
I stared her down and motioned for her to back away. I didn’t want anyone else getting caught up in whatever happened next. She stepped out of Caleb’s line of sight and hesitantly lowered her weapon.
I took another step closer to him. “I’m not touching my weapon, Caleb. If it means you shooting me right here, right now, then maybe it’s my time to go. I’m prepared for that to happen. I’ve made peace with myself and everyone else in my life.”
Caleb aimed the gun at my chest again. His hands trembled. His crying picked up intensity and his breathing labored. I could hear and see others moving in around us now. We were completely surrounded. This was it.
“Caleb, talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking,” I said, inching even closer to him.
I watched a million emotions flash across Caleb’s face—from raw, unbridled anger to sadness, confusion, and fear. He was still aiming the gun directly at my torso. If he even so much as flinched, he’d have a hundred rounds in him before he could blink. And since I was standing beside him, it didn’t bode well for me either.
“You probably just feel guilty as hell, don’t you?” Caleb said. “It’s all a big game to you. Maybe you get off on always doing the right thing, but I don’t. Here’s something that’s not a maybe—to the rest of these fucking cops, I ain’t shit but a cop killer. They want me dead.”
Caleb was right about a couple things. I did feel guilty as hell. I didn’t even fully understand why. I hadn’t known about Caleb, and I sure as hell wasn’t a deadbeat dad. And yes, cops take murder seriously, no matter who the victim might be.
“Caleb, stop for a second and looked around. Think about this, for Christ’s sake. There’s only a few ways out of this thing. Listen to me, please. I’m trying to help you. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a liar.”
Despite Caleb’s warnings, I inched closer. I was only about ten feet away from him now.
“You stop moving! Even if I wanted to cop a plea and turn my life around in prison, they’d never let me,” he said, waving his gun toward the cops who surrounded us. “We both know that. Cop killers don’t get second chances. But let’s pretend for a second that I was to trust you. No. No, screw that. What am I thinking? No, you stop right now. Stop talking to me. You’re a freaking rapist, a pig, a liar.”
Caleb steadied his pistol, aimed right at the center of my chest.
Fear zipped through my body. Had I miscalculated this? Was I going to pay the ultimate price now? If Caleb shot me, he’d be killed. Did that mean I died for nothing?
It wasn’t long after Caleb aimed the pistol at my chest that the first shot went off. My time was up. A gunshot to the stomach. Pain ripped through my entire body. I felt a sudden, gut-wrenching sadness that I’d never felt before. I’d been shot before, so I knew exactly what it felt like. But this was different. My own son, my flesh and blood, had pulled the trigger.
Then a second shot rang out. This time the shot hit center mass. I fell to my knees. I couldn’t express the mixed emotions I felt, but I knew this was it. The finality of it all seemed so surreal. What could I have done differently?
My eyes locked on Caleb’s. I no longer saw a killer or a monster but a confused boy, afraid and unsure of what was going to happen next. The gun slipped from his grasp and crashed to the ground, as Caleb fell to his knees. Not thinking, I got up and stumbled over to him, catching him as he toppled over. Blood gushed from his mouth, and tears flowed down his face.
He lay there in my arms. I could tell he was trying to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out.
“Don’t talk,” I said.
His breathing was ragged and heavy. He gasped and gargled as blood spewed from his mouth. I pressed against the bullet wound in his chest to slow the bleeding. He took another deep breath and then he was gone. I closed Caleb’s sightless eyes as tears flowed from my own. I didn’t bother to wipe them away.
The SWAT team
moved in, weapons still drawn. I was numb. I felt like I should have done something more to protect him. I was sad and angry at the same time. Thoughts of Stacy poured into my brain. I hated her even more than I already had. This could have-no-this should have all ended differently.
One of the officers placed his hand on my shoulder. “Porter, you okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah.” One word. It was all I could manage.
DeLuca sprinted toward me. She knelt beside me and pried my fingers from Caleb’s body one by one. I was covered in blood. She wiped the tears from my face and wrapped her arms around me.
Lafitte and Lt. James made their way over to us. Paul reached down, grabbed my hands, and pulled me to my feet. “Come on, David. It’s over. Let’s get you out of here.”
Somehow, I managed to follow him, my legs numb and my vision blurry. I heard mumbled words of encouragement from the other officers as we passed them, and while I appreciated the gesture, I was still too stunned to do more than nod at them. My son, a cop killer, lay dead. I knew my fellow officers were satisfied by that. . . and I couldn’t really blame them.
Chapter 58
Plane rides always calmed me. No clue why. Maybe it’s the motion, the mindless hum of the engines. It didn’t matter; I needed calming. I needed my wife. I needed my family. I needed to hold them and tell them how much I loved them. I’d learned so much over the past two years of my life. Painful lessons, though—ones I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I loved my girls, but I think there’s a time when most men wonder what it would be like to have a son. Those thoughts had long left me, but I saw glimpses of myself in Caleb, despite all the evil he’d been taught. I wondered for a second what it would have been like if . . . . I let it go.
I got a text from Mitchell thanking me again for letting him help with the case. I shot him one back, apologizing for his loss and bidding him farewell on his travels.
Miranda had texted me a few hours earlier and said she and the girls were having Christmas dinner at six p.m. She didn’t know that I’d found Caleb or that he too was gone now. She also didn’t know that I was sneaking into town again to see them.