Jack didn’t hesitate. It took him a few minutes to stumble out of the hollow, but he followed her inside.
Danni was already loading the coffeemaker when he arrived. It felt weird being back in this house under the circumstances. The last time he had been there, he and Danni were having a torrid love affair. Now a killer might be stalking her.
“Have a seat,” she said, motioning to the little table where she and Sam Jeffries had had coffee just a few days before.
Jack sat down. He didn’t know what to say to her so he didn’t say anything. He just watched her as she made the coffee. She’d been at the condo to dress him down for taking Felton’s case but under those circumstances, he hadn’t taken the time to look at her as he did now. She looked great—hadn’t changed a bit in two years. It was funny but he still felt connected to her. He’d known many women who were probably considered more beautiful than Danni but he hadn’t been attracted to them. What does that? he asked himself. How can I instantly feel connected to this woman all over again? Maybe it was her personality. Maybe it was her strength of character. She was so straightforward and direct. Those things were certainly part of it but Jack was sure there was something else, something in the universe that was unrecognizable to humans, that attracted certain people to each other. Of course, Danni was no longer attracted to him, he was sure. She probably wanted to shoot him. Maybe that’s why she invited him in.
“Do you want something to eat?” she asked. “I’ve got some apple pie.”
“That would be great.” Four days in the woods was enough to make him salivate over the thought of apple pie.
Danni set the pie and two mugs of coffee on the table and sat down across from him. Jack was still speechless so he filled his mouth with pie. Now he had an excuse not to talk and something to say when he was done.
“This pie is delicious.”
“Thank you.”
Another bite, a few chews, and he was cornered. Danni wasn’t making it easy for him. She could have made some small talk but she didn’t. He decided to wade right in.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“You mean besides the fact that you’re putting your life in danger to protect me from a serial killer?”
“A serial killer I freed from death row.”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, Jack. I think the supreme court and Apache County had something to do with your client going free.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do. You set the process in motion because you found some irregularities in the way he was arrested and prosecuted.”
“You told me to let it go and I didn’t listen to you.”
“You weren’t supposed to listen to me. I wasn’t answering your questions; I was just telling you to leave it alone.”
She was right but he couldn’t believe her attitude.
“I put your daughter in danger.”
“There you go again thinking you control the universe. You represented a client to the best of your ability. And my daughter is safe, by the way, because a man you freed from death row is protecting her.”
Jack was dumbfounded. He stuffed another hunk of apple pie into his mouth. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Danni sipping her coffee and Jack steadily making the apple pie disappear.
“Do you want some more?” she asked.
“Sure.” The woods were looming in the background. He wasn’t going to pass up a second piece of the best pie he’d ever eaten, or so it seemed at the moment.
“I see Sam Jeffries in the woods every day at least two or three times,” he said.
Danni was cutting the pie. “Don’t ever let him see you, Jack. He doesn’t feel the same way about things as I do.”
“Nor should he.”
“Let’s not go back there again. Just stay away from him. He’s not himself these days. I shudder to think what would happen if he came upon you like I did. Speaking of which, I can’t talk you out of going back out there again, can I?”
Jack finished chewing his newest piece of pie.
“Nope. This is something I’ve got to do.”
Danni certainly understood that sentiment. She reached down into a cabinet below the sink off to the right and pulled out a thermos. She poured the rest of the coffee into it.
“Try and stay awake out there. Remember who you’re dealing with.”
“I can’t forget,” he said, taking the thermos from her and heading for the door.
“Thanks for the coffee. I’ll bring this back in the morning.”
“Just leave it by the back door. I’ll refill it for you,” she said.
Jack looked at her. “Really?”
“Don’t read anything into it. If you’re going to be out there, I want you to be alert.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Felton finally showed up on a Sunday morning, debunking the predictions of all three of his antagonists who were sure it was going to be a nighttime assault.
Jack had already made his early morning run and had been back at the pup tent for about an hour. He’d lain down for a short nap and for some reason, he could never say why, he woke up and immediately stood up to look at Danni’s backyard. He saw a figure dressed in black from head to toe enter the woods from the backyard!
Oh my God—Danni! he thought. He’s coming back from her house. What the hell has he done to her? I’ve got to go to her.
He wasn’t even sure it was Felton but he had a way to find out. Jack had Felton’s number in his phone since Felton had called him at the condo to tell him that he no longer wanted to file the claims bill. Two nights ago Jack had called the number to see if Felton still had the phone. Somebody answered but didn’t speak.
“Tom, are you there? This is Jack.”
Felton never did say a word but Jack got the information he needed. He knew how to contact Felton.
Now, as he stood in his bunker paralyzed with fear, wondering what Felton had done to Danni, wondering whether the man in black was even Felton, wondering what he was going to do—go after Felton or go to Danni—he decided to call the number. He pressed Felton’s name in his cell phone directory and watched the man who was now in the woods moving slowly toward the road. He was maybe a hundred yards away from the bunker now. Jack didn’t hear a ring, but he saw the man first look toward his right pants pocket then reach his hand in and pull out a phone and look at it. He didn’t answer it; he didn’t need to.
Jack had his man and he made his decision in that instant. Whatever happened to Danni had already happened. This might be his only chance to capture Felton. He sprang from his foxhole, taking one last look toward the house. I’ll be there as soon as I can, he thought to himself and took off after Felton, the Sig Sauer in his right hand. He closed the gap rather quickly since Felton wasn’t running. When he was within fifty feet or so and had an unobstructed view of the man, Jack raised the gun and called out.
“Tom, this is Jack Tobin. I want you to stop.”
Jack continued to move forward slowly, his gun aimed at the target. Felton looked back once, saw the gun and saw Jack coming and started to slow down. For a moment, Jack thought he was going to give himself up. Then Felton suddenly wheeled around, and Jack saw something in his hand—it looked like a small gun.
“Don’t do it, Tom.”
Felton raised his arm. Jack had no idea if he was preparing to fire or not. He had to make a split-second decision. He fired the Sig Sauer. Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion. The bullet hit Felton in the chest. He knew it because Felton fell straight back, his legs and feet flying in the air. He lay motionless on the ground. Jack did not move toward him, though. Once the crisis was over and Felton was down, his attention immediately turned to Danni.
He ran in the opposite direction toward the backyard and Danni’s house. He saw her in his mind as she had stood in the kitchen just two days before, smiling at him and telling him to be careful and stay awake. He finally reached the back do
or. It seemed as if it took an eternity to get there. The door was locked.
“Danni, Danni!” he yelled as he banged.
When nobody answered, he took the heel of the gun and prepared to break the closest window. Just as he was about to swing his arm, the door opened and Danni stepped out.
“What’s going on, Jack? I was sleeping and thought I heard a gunshot. Are you okay?”
Jack’s face broke into the biggest smile.
“I couldn’t be better now that I see you standing there.”
“Was that a gunshot I heard?”
“Yeah. It was Felton. I shot him. I thought he was leaving your house. He’s in the woods out there.”
“Is he dead?”
“I don’t know. I came to see about you.”
“Don’t tell me you left him there without making sure he was dead.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s not going anywhere,” Jack said.
“Wait here. I’m going to go get my gun,” she said as she retreated back into the house.
It was ten o’clock on Sunday morning when Sam Jeffries started into the woods to do his first walkabout of the day. Normally he was out earlier, but he’d had a few too many the night before and decided to sleep in. His walks into the woods were getting to be a routine and Sam was focused on negotiating through the trees and the brush rather than doing any observational investigative work. Then he heard voices and a shot directly ahead. Sam took off like the high-school running back he had once been. Branches were scratching his face and his body as he ran along but he hardly noticed. Felton was out there and Felton had killed his wife and daughter. He was so focused that he almost tripped over Felton’s body, stopping at the last minute. Felton was lying on his back. Sam could see blood flowing from a bullet hole almost dead center in his chest. The face was untouched, but it was bearded and filthy and it took Sam a few minutes to realize who it was.
“Shit!” he said aloud to the trees and the wind. He was too late. Felton was dead. He’d been robbed of the opportunity to kill the man who had murdered his wife and daughter. Danni had to be the one who did this. But where is she? First things first. He called the station and made his report. He wanted a forensic team out there on the double along with a team of homicide detectives. Now that Felton was dead, he wanted to make sure his department handled everything efficiently.
After he made the call, he started looking at the scene and the surrounding terrain in greater detail. He removed a small pair of binoculars from his pants pocket and focused them on Danni’s backyard. If Danni had done the killing, as he suspected, why had she left the scene? He caught a glimpse of someone banging on Danni’s door. It was a man, a fairly tall man, with speckled gray hair.
Who is that? he asked himself, unable to pinpoint the man’s identity through the small field glasses. Maybe he’s the shooter. Then he saw the man take something out of his pants pocket—it looked like a gun, but he couldn’t be sure—and reach his arm back as if he were going to break one of the back windows. Just then Danni came out of the house and started talking to the man. She knows him! Sam said to himself. Who the fuck is it?
He could have continued to watch them, or even better, he could have walked toward them and maybe gotten some answers, but he decided against it. His people would be there soon and he wanted to do his own investigation before they arrived. Danni and her friend weren’t going to get far in the next few minutes. Besides, he couldn’t have chased them if he’d wanted to. The old tank was empty.
He hesitated to move the body but he saw that Felton had a small backpack on. Putting his rubber gloves on first, he rolled Felton over rather easily and opened the backpack. Inside were some clothes, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and some papers. Nice to know a serial killer brushes his teeth, Sam thought. He perused the papers. One set was a document called a claims bill that had a lot of legal language in it and another set was a document called a contingency fee agreement. Sam scanned them quickly. The claims bill was basically a request by Felton for twenty million dollars from the Florida legislature for his wrongful incarceration. The contingency fee agreement was an agreement to give Jack Tobin one-third of whatever he got from the legislature on the claims bill.
So that’s how Tobin does it, he thought to himself. He puts himself out to the public as this great human being, and then he makes his money on the back end if he’s successful. What a slimy son of a bitch. Then he started laughing to himself thinking about all the money Tobin had lost when Felton killed again. It was a morbid laugh since Felton’s victim had been his own daughter. Serves the prick right. He makes his money getting maggots like this set free, it’s only fair that he should get fucked good once in a while. He probably wanted to kill Felton himself. Too late, Tobin, Danni beat you to it.
Wait a minute! Now he knew who the tall man was who had been banging on Danni’s door. Tobin! He started putting the pieces together. Tobin killed Felton. Danni never would have left the scene.
Jeffries made his other big discovery while he was kneeling on the ground stuffing the papers back into the knapsack. There was a gun in the grass right next to Felton’s right hand. He picked it up, careful not to smudge any fingerprints that might be on the handle, and looked it over. It was a small 22 caliber Ruger. Almost missed it, Sam thought to himself. Must be slipping.
He didn’t realize how much he had slipped until he heard the moan. He looked down at the body and saw Felton make a jerking motion with his head and right arm. He’d never checked for a pulse! He looked up at the blue sky leaking through the tall pines. “Thank you, God,” he whispered.
Felton moaned again. He opened his eyes and looked at Sam, apparently not focusing too well. “Help me,” he whispered to the man whose daughter and wife he had so brutally murdered.
Sam grabbed his head and jerked it toward him so that his face and Felton’s were almost touching. “Look at me, fuckface! You killed my wife and daughter. You’re asking the wrong person for help.”
Felton did look at him. Sam could see the recognition in his eyes—the fear. He was so thankful for this moment.
“I had to,” Felton whispered. “No control.”
“Well then, you’ll understand what I have to do—for my wife, my daughter, and all those other people you murdered—you piece of shit. I only wish I had more time.”
There was a good-sized rock off to Sam’s right. He reached for it and slid it in place under Felton’s head.
“I hope this hurts real bad,” he said just before he smashed the man’s head on the rock over and over again. Blood oozed out and started leeching into the dirt and the grass, and the little life that had been there clearly left Felton’s body. Still, Sam didn’t stop until he heard the sirens in the distance—and something else: leaves rustling in the woods. Somebody was coming from the direction of Danni’s house.
He stood up quickly then, taking off the rubber gloves and stuffing them into his pants pockets as he moved, fielded the binoculars, and looked through the trees. Danni and Tobin were running toward him.
Sam picked up the revolver off the ground where he had laid it while he attended to Felton, held it in the palm of his hand and looked at it for several seconds as he continued to listen to Danni and Jack rustling through the woods, getting closer and closer. Then he smiled to himself as he placed the gun in his inside jacket pocket.
“Stop!” Sam yelled to Danni and Jack, putting his hand up when they were about twenty feet away. “I’ve got a dead body here. It’s Felton.”
Danni and Jack both stopped for a moment.
“We know,” Danni said. “At least, we knew Felton was shot. We didn’t know he was dead.”
“How did you know?” Sam asked.
“I shot him,” Jack said.
Just then the sirens stopped.
“I want you two to stay right there. This is a crime scene and my forensics team is going to be here in a moment.”
The team arrived at the scene a few minutes later: three men and
two women, accompanied by two male homicide detectives. The forensics people didn’t need any direction. They saw the dead body and went to work.
Sam addressed the detectives.
“That’s Jack Tobin over there. He says he was the shooter. I want you to read him his rights and then take a statement if he’ll give you one. Take a statement from Danni, too. Same procedure. I know she’s one of us but I want it done by the book.”
“Jack says Felton had a gun,” Danni said to Sam.
“I want someone to look for a gun,” Sam said to the people on the ground. “You don’t happen to know what kind of gun, do you?” he asked Jack.
“No,” Jack said. “I was about fifty feet away.”
“But you’re sure it was a gun?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Pretty sure?”
“Yeah, like I said.”
Sam turned to the two detectives. “No need for you to be here. Why don’t you take them down to the station and interview them there.”
“What’s going on, Sam?” Danni asked.
“Nothing, Danni. It’s standard procedure—you know that. I’ll have this team scour the area. We’ll find the gun if it’s here. Then you and Mr. Tobin will be able to go home.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
By the time they started for the police vehicles, Jack had made the decision to stop talking. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything to begin with, but even experienced trial lawyers made mistakes, especially when they were innocent and wanted to help the investigation. When he heard his own words that he was “pretty sure” Felton had a gun and then heard Sam Jeffries repeat those words as a question, he instinctively knew he had said too much. So he sat in a small room for two hours across from a homicide detective named Cal. Cal asked questions, and Jack smiled and refused to answer.
“Do you want a lawyer?” Cal asked. “Because we’ll get you one.”
I’ll bet you will, Jack thought to himself as he smiled at Cal and said, “No thanks.”
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