by A. C. Mason
An alarm had been installed, but it wasn’t armed. How ironic was that? She finally got a security system except it came too late to keep him from grabbing her.
He should have officially called for back-up, but he didn’t know who would respond. Just his luck, Marino and Bergeron would be his back-up. He could have requested some uniforms to back him up.
The house was dark except for a light in the kitchen. An eerie feeling came over him. He didn’t believe she was here, but he had to check anyway.
He slowly walked up the stairs, careful not to step on the first one that supposedly creaked. At the top, he checked other rooms and found them clear. No one was hiding in closets or under beds.
Jamie’s bedroom lay to the right of the stairs. Her door was open. It was closed the night someone came into her house. His heart raced. Cautiously he peered around the doorframe.
No sign of a struggle anywhere in the house. Phillips must have overpowered her when she arrived at her front door. But where had he taken her?
Fifty-four
A couple approached Caleb from a nearby residence as he started to get in his truck. He placed his hand on his gun in a reflex action.
“Are you a cop,” the man asked.
“Caleb Bourque, Oak Pointe City Police,” he answered. “Can I help you? Mister…?”
“Maybe we can help you,” the woman interrupted. “I’m Marilyn.” She pointed to the man. “This is my husband Kenny. We live directly across the street.”
Caleb closed the truck door and faced the couple. “Did either of you observe something unusual happening at this residence?”
Kenny hesitated. His wife poked him on the arm.
“Tell him what you saw.”
“It might not mean anything,” he said.
“Tell me and I’ll decide whether it’s important or not,” Caleb said, brusquely.
“I saw Jamie drive up and get out of her car. I was outside trying to fix some of our Christmas lights. She waved and I waved back.”
Caleb’s patience grew thinner by the minute. “Go on.”
“I resumed working on my lights. Something made me look in her direction again. A man had come up behind her…don’t know where he came from. But they went inside.”
Caleb’s heartbeat sped up. “Was there any kind of struggle?”
“Not that I could see.” Kenny shrugged. “Of course it was almost dark and I really didn’t think anything about it at the time.”
“How about his vehicle?”
Kenny shook his head. “I didn’t see one then.”
“Did something else happen?”
“A while later, a car drove up and this same guy got out and went back inside. At least I’m pretty sure he was the same guy. That caught my attention. Minutes later he came out with his arm around her and he helped her into his car.”
Caleb glared at him. “And you didn’t think to call the sheriff?”
Kenny studied his feet.
“He didn’t believe it was anything weird.” Marilyn sounded and looked annoyed.
“Well, she could’ve been drunk or sick and he was taking her to a doctor.” He shot her an irritated look of his own.
“Thanks for your help.” Caleb got into his truck. “Next time you see something unusual, even if you don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about, call nine-one-one.”
“We will,” Marilyn said. “I hope everything is all right with Jamie.”
Everything is not all right with Jamie. So what the hell had he done to her?
Caleb got back in his truck and started the engine. He glanced at Father Greg. “You heard?”
“I never imagined Michael would hurt Jamie.”
“Looks like he did something to her and it wasn’t good.” Caleb thought a moment. The deal with Phillips’ car was a puzzle.
Caleb drove back to the highway, made a left turn onto the street behind Jamie’s house. He remembered her statement about the intruder jumping over her fence. Was this where Phillips parked his car then and when he initially arrived tonight?
Only vacant lots lined one side of the street behind Jamie’s house and the roadway ended in a dead end. On the opposite side all the way to the dead end, a forest of oaks, pines, and Chinese tallow trees, a species that grew wild in many areas of South Louisiana, made a perfect spot for Phillips to park his car without attracting too much attention.
Phillips took a big chance bringing his car around in front of her house. What would he have done if that doofus across the street had come over to see what was wrong with Jamie?
“Father, do you have any idea where he might take her?”
“I’m sorry to say I don’t,” the priest lamented. He perked up as if an idea had come to him.
At the same time, Kim Hendricks’s photo came to Caleb’s mind. “Phillips takes photos of his victims after they’re dead. His photo studio.”
“Yes, thinking back to earlier today, I recall Jamie seemed surprised about Michael’s photography studio. You did also, except you didn’t comment.”
“You read people pretty good, Father. We need to head back to his house. Fast!”
The drive to Phillips’ house took about fifteen minutes, but it seemed more like hours to Caleb. He slowed his truck to a crawl as they approached the residence. “Father, I hope you’ve got plenty of pull with The Man Upstairs. I know Michael is your nephew, but please pray he hasn’t seriously hurt Jamie because I sure will hurt him.”
The priest exhaled. “I’ve been praying all the way there and back.”
Anger and fear gripped Caleb; anger with Phillips, anger with himself for his decision to not answer Jamie’s first call. If Jamie were hurt or worse, he’d never forgive himself.
Caleb spotted Phillips’ car, a black Nissan, parked behind the garage apartment. Leaving the priest in the truck, he exited and crept around to the car’s location. He felt the hood…still warm.
Father Greg left the vehicle and quietly moved toward the stairs. Caleb motioned for him to stay back.
“You can’t go barging up there. We don’t know if he’s armed,” he whispered.
“I’ve got to speak to him. I might be able to convince him to come out peacefully.”
Caleb clutched Father Greg’s arm. “I can’t let you go up there alone. It’s too dangerous.”
“I’m not in the habit of disobeying orders from police, but if you come up with me, there’s no chance of Jamie or Michael coming out alive.” He gently slipped out of Caleb’s grasp.
Caleb didn’t like the idea of putting a civilian in danger. Chances were Father Greg’s endeavor wouldn’t work. He doubted Phillips would even open the door, but it was worth a try. He reluctantly agreed.
The priest walked slowly up the stairs. He knocked on the door loudly and called out. “Michael, it’s Uncle Greg. Please come out so we can talk.”
Fifty-six
Jamie breathed a small sigh of relief when she heard Father Greg’s voice even though she knew this ordeal was a long way from over. Anything could go wrong.
“Go away, Uncle Greg,” Michael shouted. “I’ve got to take care of unfinished business.”
“I know you have Jamie in there,” Father Greg said, his voice muted through the door. “I’m asking you not to harm her. She is an innocent victim. Please come out. I’ll go with you to turn yourself into the police.”
“She’s not innocent. She and Joanna helped those worthless women. They were all parasites living off their host just like my mother.”
“Don’t do this, Michael. Please open the door and come out.”
Michael walked slowly toward the door, holding his revolver in front of him.
Jamie held her breath. Was he really going to turn himself in? Surely he didn’t intend to shoot his uncle.
He unlocked the door, cautiously slipped the safety chain off, and opened it about a foot. In a flash, he yanked the priest inside by his arm. Just as quickly, he flipped the lock and slid the chain back into
the slot.
Waving his gun in Father Greg’s direction, he ordered the priest to move. “Get over there by Jamie. I’m sure she’d like you to hear her final confession.”
She felt her chest tighten. Why was Father Greg here by himself? Are the police outside? Is Caleb here? She squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe if I keep my eyes closed, this terrible scene will go away. Not likely.
~ * ~
Dammit! Now Phillips has two hostages. He had underestimated him. Caleb pulled his phone out and punched in Alisha’s number. She picked up right away. “I need back-up. Michael Phillips is holding Jamie and his uncle, Father Greg, in a garage apartment behind his residence.” He provided her the address. “No sirens.”
“Understood.” She disconnected the call.
Caleb surveyed the exterior, searching for an alternate entrance to the apartment. He couldn’t see one from this advantage point. Moving back around to the spot where Phillips’ car was parked, he realized the back portion had been added on to the place. No wonder it seemed larger than usual to him.
He spotted a door. Probably for storage, but he tried it anyway. It was unlocked.
How lucky was this? The door led to a second set of stairs. Maybe he shouldn’t get too excited. This could be a dead end.
Drawing his gun, he slowly advanced upward. Inside, a musty smell hung in the cold air like a room that had been closed for a long period of time.
Two more doors were on either side of the top step. All those doors made him feel like a contestant on “Let’s Make A Deal.” Any one of them could be a bad deal.
What was behind doors number two and three? A bullet? A booby trap? Or a way to rescue the two hostages?
Adrenalin pumping, Caleb reached the top. Door number two. Tonight he was a gambling man.
He twisted the knob. This door was locked. Number three proved to be a fake entrance, a door to nowhere. It appeared his luck had run out.
Looking around the area, he spotted several boxes filled with who-knew-what were stacked nearby. He brushed aside cobwebs in the top one and carefully checked the contents.
Caleb smiled. What do you know? Maybe my luck hasn’t run out after all. He pulled out a rusty screwdriver.
Ear against the door, he listened for any sounds. Faint voices could be heard. Hard to tell where they were in the apartment. He kept listening…definitely two male voices. Was Jamie still alive? His stomach clenched. She can’t be dead or hurt.
For all he knew, this led directly into the room where Phillips held his hostages. I’m really gambling tonight. But he had to take that chance. He had to pick the lock or remove the doorknob. If all else failed, he would kick the door in and take his chances, a choice he hoped not to be forced to make. Jamie and Father Greg’s lives were on the line.
After failing to deal with the uncooperative lock, he moved quietly down the stairs and stepped outside. He sent a text to Alisha. Where are you? Her answer was a relief.
Just arrived out front with Bergeron and two uniforms. Where are you?
Back of apartment. There’s a door opening up to hidden stairs. Get B. & uniforms to distract Phillips any way they can safely do so from the front. Join me in back. I’m going to kick in door.
A few minutes later, Alisha edged around the corner of the apartment with her weapon drawn and joined him. She followed him inside and up the stairs.
“Baby, this is some kind of set-up in here,” she whispered. “A secret entrance.”
“God help us if this ends badly.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
Bergeron’s voice came over a loudspeaker. “Michael Phillips, this is Detective Bergeron with Oak Pointe Police. Let your hostages go and come out with your hands up. Give yourself up and you won’t get hurt.”
Caleb heard movement inside the apartment like someone walking around. Sound of glass breaking, then a gunshot…Caleb’s heart slammed against his chest. He kicked the door open and raced inside.
Turning away from the window to face Caleb, Phillips looked stunned.
“Drop your gun,” Caleb ordered.
Alisha stepped up beside him with her gun drawn. “There’s no way out. Drop it.”
Phillips stood firmly in place, pointing his weapon at them. “I’ll shoot all of you.”
“Listen, Michael, this isn’t going to be suicide by cop,” Caleb said. “You’re going to prison. Now drop your gun.”
Father Greg rose from his seated position on the floor. “Michael, please do as he asks. Don’t hurt anyone else.”
“Why should I? I’m going to die anyway.” He moved his gun toward the priest. “You prolonged my mother’s addiction. You could’ve have stopped her from living a life of sin.”
“How did I prolong her addiction?”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Phillips said, his weapon and his gaze still pointed at his two hostages.
With his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed slightly, Caleb aimed his gun and fired. A blast echoed in the room. His expert shot sliced across the top of Phillips’ hand. The smell of gunpowder filled the air.
Phillips yelled in pain, dropping his revolver. He clutched his wound for a second before scrambling around on the floor in an attempt to reach the weapon again.
Alisha got to it first. With Caleb’s help, she subdued Phillips on the floor and handcuffed him. “Subject in custody,” she said into her shoulder mic.
Caleb rushed over to Jamie. Stooping next to her, he pulled her close. “You okay?” he whispered.
“I am now.” She nestled tight against his chest.
Fifty-seven
Still holding his arms around Jamie, Caleb surveyed the room. Bergeron and other officers swarmed around Alisha and Phillips. Adrenalin or electric energy permeated the whole area. A bullet hole scarred the window where Phillips had fired at officers who waited outside.
Photos of the five victims hung on a bulletin board in the center of one wall like trophies signifying Phillips’ conquests.
Everything he’d heard about serial killers appeared to be true, especially the part about keeping souvenirs from their victims. In this case, photos were Phillips’ keepsakes of choice. Caleb smiled at Jamie, happy and relieved hers wasn’t one of those on display.
Her smile seemed forced. Her sad gaze moved to Phillips. What was she thinking? Knowing her, Caleb thought she simply wondered why someone she considered her friend would commit such terrible crimes and she might eventually forgive the creep. She had a tender heart.
If this scumbag had killed a member of his family, Caleb knew what he would be feeling—anger, a lot of it. The word forgiveness wouldn’t be anywhere in his vocabulary for Michael Phillips under those circumstances.
A uniformed officer escorted Phillips outside, followed closely by Father Greg.
“Michael is being taken directly to jail?” Jamie’s expression seemed pained.
“First he’ll be transported to the hospital for treatment of his wounded hand, then off to jail.” He eased his embrace. “Did he knock you out when he surprised you at home?”
“He came up behind me, put a cloth over my nose and mouth, and pushed me inside. That’s all I remember.”
“That’s what I figured. Did he tell you why he killed those women?”
“Not really,” she said. “His killing spree was all about his mother, regardless of his statement about ‘standard psychobabble.’ Maybe Father Greg can get more insight into Michael’s actions. That is, if Michael will even talk to him.”
“Time will tell.” He caressed her cheek with his hand. “But for now, it’s time to get out of here.”
“I definitely agree.”
Chief Baker met him and Jamie before they reached the door. “Congratulations on this arrest. Good work.” He offered his hand to Caleb.
“Thanks, Chief.” He removed his gun from the holster and handed it to Baker. “You’ll be needing this.”
Baker nodded and accepted the weapon. “But this time you’ll be place
d on leave for the right reasons. No worries. From what I hear, it was a good shooting.” He made a quick glance at Jamie, then looked back at Caleb. “I need to have a word with you in private.”
Caleb really wanted to be in private with Jamie…to make things right with her. But Baker was his boss. “Sure thing. Jamie, wait for me here.”
“I won’t take too much of his time. Only be a few minutes,” Baker said.
Jamie offered a faint smile.
Caleb walked to the other side of the room with Baker, out of earshot of anyone else. “What’s up, Chief?”
“As we speak, there’s a warrant for Marino’s arrest being prepared. Also for a search of his home. So I’ll be placing him under arrest in the presence of a couple of uniforms tomorrow morning early.
“For Branson’s murder?” Hallelujah!
“Right,” Baker said. “I plan to play Bergeron’s recording. After which I’m having a press conference to announce that and also the arrest of Michael Phillips for murdering those women. There’s DNA evidence for Phillips only for the last death, Tracy Dumont, but with all these photos and some other trace evidence on one of the others we can tie him to at least two.”
“I don’t suppose I could be in on Marino’s arrest?”
“That’s not a good idea. State Police will be investigating your shooting…and Branson’s murder also. But I have no doubt you’ll be back to work in no time. Stay home and watch on TV. Press conference is scheduled for eleven. Several Baton Rouge channels are gonna be there.”
“I’d be interested to know how Marino knew I had found his ring at the crime scene. I need to get that to you as soon as the bank opens.”
“Definitely. I want to show him the ring right off. Of course he’ll say he lost it while working the scene. Then I’ll let him hear Bergeron’s tape.”
“Good deal.” He still wished he could see the look on Marino’s face when he was arrested. He also wondered about the chief’s position if Marino divulged Baker’s past and his connection to Robert Blanchard.