No Mercy

by Torbert, R. J. ;

  She picked up Rachelle on Prospect Street to drive over to the jail to visit Madison for a couple hours. Rachelle was herself again. She jumped in the car and hugged Deborah and enjoyed giving her details of their first night together in months. Deborah was almost jealous listening to her talk about it. They got to the jail about 1:40 pm, and Madison was brought in to a special room to meet her sister Rachelle and Deborah. Correctional Officer Janet Gates was in the room as an escort during the meeting. Madison was informed that her attorney, Al Simmons, would also be stopping by.

  They were in the room only twenty minutes when Paul walked in as a surprise, and it was the first time in over sixteen months that Paul had hugged Madison without a sheet of glass between them. He kissed Rachelle, who didn't want to let go of him, but he finally explained what he was doing there.

  “Maddie, I wanted to let you be the first to see this.” He took a little box out of his pocket, opened it up, showed it to Rachelle, and said, “Thank you for accepting my proposal. I hope you like this.” It was a two carat marquis diamond with two round half carats on the side. Rachelle knew they were engaged, but seeing the ring and Paul putting it on her finger still made her misty-eyed. Madison looked at her sister and how happy she was, and she too became emotional. She looked up at Janet Gates, who was smiling at Madison.

  2:00 PM

  Detective Cronin drove up to the house and parked in the driveway and sat behind the wheel of his car for a few minutes and wondered if he should turn around and drive away. It was a fleeting thought, for he got out of the car and walked to the door. He rang the doorbell and walked into the foyer and was led to an office where there was a shadow of a figure sitting in the dark in the corner.

  “It's over,” Cronin said. “It’s over; you need to turn yourself in.”

  “What took you so long?” the figure from the shadow said.

  “I needed the evidence to back me up,” the detective lieutenant replied. “Quite frankly, whoever killed Phil Smith in the barn that night was not a major concern for me. He was a no-good murdering piece of shit. I didn't even care that people thought it may have been me. But you slipped up by not telling me you came back the night before instead of the following night. The money, the payoff, the high level of technology on the briefcase all had me thinking. Then the shots that were fired, one missed, then one in the throat. A cop wouldn't have missed on the first shot, and speaking of the shot, the ballistics on the bullet showed the gun was owned by Steven Anderson from the paper Rachelle worked at, and I'm sure if we look hard enough we would find it somewhere in the house unless you destroyed it. I have the flight information and I checked; the only place that sold that kind of briefcase was your chain of stores before you sold it. You should have left another for Simmons. The cash was yours, so it’s not illegal for him to keep it. The briefcase was too expensive for me or anyone else to have.

  I know it wasn't me who shot him, and only you had the means and money to do this. The money that went missing really was not missing. Anyone else but you would have made a fuss about where all the ransom money went to. Well, there was no fuss because you got your money back after you shot Smith. However, it was your love for your daughter that fired the bullet. Love, something so great can create hate toward others. I checked the technology used on the briefcase. It's the same as what's used on the mansion here. Everything has a signature.”

  “What do you want me to do?” the shadow spoke.

  “I want you to enjoy Christmas Eve tonight, Christmas Day tomorrow, and then I want you to turn yourself in before New Year's.”

  “Don't you understand?” the man said as he came out of the shadows. “I would do anything to protect my daughter. Any father would.”

  Cronin looked at William Lance. “Yes, I know, which is why I'm letting you turn yourself in. You can afford the best attorney, you were under extreme pressure. Public sympathy will be on your side. More important, there were only two people in the barn. One of them is no longer around. If you say you reacted out of self-defense it will be difficult for a jury to convict you.”

  “You think so?” Lance said.

  “Yes,” Cronin replied. “A jury is made up of people like yourself. There is only one version of the story, and that's yours. Get your attorney and turn yourself in. I'm sure he will want you to testify before the grand jury.”

  “That's it?” Lance said. “You are going to leave and not take me in?”

  Cronin took a step closer. “As I said, I won't take you in if I don't think you would do harm to yourself or others. William, your daughter needs you; she has been through a lot the past couple of years. Don't just think of yourself. Think about her.”

  William Lance nodded as he spoke. “I'll turn myself in on the 27th. I will need the 26th to talk to Deborah.”

  “OK,” Cronin said, “bring the gun with you when you do. Put it in a box and make sure there are no bullets in it.” He hesitated before speaking again. “Don't disappear, William. I will find you if need be, so think about Deborah. With a good lawyer, you won't do much time, if any.”

  The two men stared at each other for another thirty seconds before Cronin said, “Merry Christmas.”

  He nodded and turned around as William Lance said, “Thank you.”

  Cronin got in his car and called ADA Ashley, who picked up on the second ring. He barely said hello when Cronin spoke. “I kept my promise. Merry Christmas, you son of a bitch.”

  Ashley looked at the phone when he heard the click. He shook his head and thought to himself, Same to you, mystery man, same to you. He smiled as he rejoined his parents at the dinner table filled with his thought, I’m sorry, Kevin Cronin, for giving you those promissory notes, but it was time, my friend.

  4:00 PM

  Jason “Jack” O'Connor was in the TV room when the guard yelled, “O'Connor, you have a Christmas gift in your cell!” The former FBI agent smiled as the guard escorted him back to his enclosed room with the small window. He walked in and always had a sarcastic smile on his face because he had won the right not to have the victims' families on his walls as Paul Powers had threatened numerous times. The photos were put up numerous times, but lawyers had gotten them removed each time.

  On his bed was a shoebox-sized package wrapped in Christmas paper. He sat down on his bed and unwrapped the paper, opened the box, and found more tissue paper. He moved the tissue paper slowly to discover it was the white Ghost Face mask with the words in blood red, No Mercy. He jumped up from his bed and threw the mask against the door and started screaming.

  “Get this out of here! Do you hear me? Get this out of here!” He started kicking the door. “Open up! Open up!” He picked up the mask and started throwing it against the wall. “Get this fucking thing out of here! Do you hear me!”

  In fact the whole cellblock could hear him, but the burly guard smiled as he walked down the hallway listening to O'Connor's screams.

  5:10 PM

  Sherry Walker loved to walk along Cedar Beach in Mount Sinai. This snowy day was no exception. She had enjoyed her time off away from the task force. The officer who saved Rachelle Robinson's life and took a knife to her abdomen eighteen months prior was now concentrating on starting a new life. She walked out to the end of the pier, took out her disposable phone, and pushed the buttons. The call was picked up as Sherry said, “It's over, time to move on.”

  “OK,” the caller said. “Any last messages for her?”

  “Yes,” Sherry said, “tell her . . .” she hesitated for a moment trying to think of the appropriate words. “Tell her, her nightmares should end.” The call ended as she threw the phone in the water.

  As she started walking toward the beach with the snowflakes coming down, a figure started walking toward her. She stopped to see the figure of a man approach closer to her. He stopped about ten feet from her and spoke.

  “Hell of a day for walking on a pier in M
ount Sinai.”

  “I guess so,” Sherry answered.

  “This is over, right? No more calls, no more killings. Many lives have been lost for the sake of revenge.”

  Sherry nodded as she replied, “You're a smart man. No matter what side of the law you are on, revenge has no mercy.” Both of them stood still and did not move as Sherry spoke again.

  “Why did you kill Lawrence Stone in the parking lot? I left him alive for the cops to pick up.”

  “I was asked to help clean up the dirt surrounding this case. I did it for Madison. It's the same reason I got rid of Tangretti and Branca in the Keys. Madison has her revenge. and so do you”

  Sherry nodded. “I guess we all got our revenge. How did you find them?”

  “Oh,” the man answered, “like you, it's amazing the connections I have in my job. You found Caulfield at the mall, saved Lynagh at Sherman's house, and took good care of business at the garage, so we make a good team.” He laughed. “And you,” he continued, “are right, there is no mercy when it comes to retribution. They were shown none, and I did as you asked with the calling card. It had No mercy on it.” He took another breath as the conversation continued. “Why the use of the mask, Sherry? This could have been done without leaving calling cards that could gain national attention.”

  She put her hands in her pocket to warm them up as she replied, “I wanted to be sure both sides of the law knew there was a connection to the Face of Fear investigation. I knew it would raise the stakes and keep Tangretti, Branca, and that asshole O'Connor a little more stressed. I'm sure O'Connor is enjoying his Christmas present right now.”

  The man smiled as she continued, “His men tried to take my life and took the lives of people I cared about. I knew Powers and Johnson couldn't go outside the law. I wasn't going to see them go down without my help.”

  The man nodded before speaking again and moved a step closer. “Now for the big question. You know Cronin; he won't stop. The case may be over, but the killings of Caulfield and Talison in the mall parking lot and that other asshole Stone won't just go away by themselves. Cronin, as well as Powers and Johnson, know about the mask, and it wasn't cops who killed them. The bodies of Tangretti and Branca have been eaten by sharks, so that's not a problem.”

  Sherry smiled as she spoke. “Did you notice there has been nothing in the media about Ghost Face being involved in this case?

  I have a feeling it's going to stay that way, and as long as this is over, I don't think Cronin will be spending tax dollars on a calling card left at the scene. Call it woman's intuition.”

  “Well,” the man said, “I guess we are done here. You and I will never meet again.”

  “I hope not,” Sherry answered. “It would not be wise. It's time to concentrate on a life.”

  “So,” the man answered as he waved, “Merry Christmas.”

  “Same to you,” Sherry answered.

  The man turned around and started walking away to where she could barely see him when he turned around and gave Sherry one last nod before turning back toward his vehicle. You’re lucky I’m married, you delicious-looking man, she said in her thoughts.

  As his car pulled away, John Bay made a phone call. “It's over,” he said, “Merry Christmas.”

  “Thank you,” came the reply, and there was a click. Al Simmons put the phone down and went over to pour himself a drink. He raised his glass in the air and said, “Here's to you, Madison.”

  6:00 PM

  Bud was walking up Main Street holding hands with Deborah as the light snow continued to fall. She thought he looked so adorable in his knit hat. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I will come back later and see you. I want to spend Christmas Eve with you, but my Dad, it's uncomfortable.”

  “No worries,” Bud said, “as long as you have dinner with Rachelle, Paul, and I for Christmas. It's fine, Deborah. Really, it's OK.”

  “Thank you for understanding,” she answered. He kissed her on the lips and told her he would see her later. She started to get in her car as she watched Bud walk up Main Street. She looked at him as he kneeled down to a man who was sitting down on the park bench between Elements retail store and the Salsa Salsa Eatery. She waited in front of Spy Coast Bar as she saw him continue to talk to the man, who had his arms folded across his body to keep warm. She moved away from her car and took a few extra steps to get a closer look at what was going on. Bud put his hands on the man, then took off his snow hat and put it on his head. He then took off his gloves and put them on the man's hands. Deborah took out her phone and pushed the buttons to make a call.

  “Dad,” she said, “I hope you're not upset with me, but I really need to be with Bud tonight. I love him and don't want him to be alone. Will you be OK with your friends?”

  “I'll be fine, sweetheart. Merry Christmas, my love,” her father replied.

  “Thanks, Dad. I love you.”

  “Deborah,” her dad replied, “I want you to know how proud I am of you, and I know your mom would be proud as well.”

  It was rare for her father to bring up her mom, she thought, as he continued to speak.

  “Your mom knew that the name Deborah came from a woman who was a prophetess of the god of the Israelites and was the only female judge mentioned in the Bible.” Deborah tried to push the phone closer to her ear as her father continued to speak. “She was a strong person, a warrior and ‘The Song of Deborah' is considered the earliest sample of Hebrew poetry from the twelfth century.”

  Deborah looked back at Bud walking up Main Street as she replied, “Dad, is everything OK?”

  William Lance let out a small laugh to reassure his daughter before he spoke again. “I'm fine, honey. I just wanted you to know that your mom demanded you were named Deborah because the only female judge from the Bible was a strong, independent woman, and I think your mother would be so proud of you. Life gets in the way, and now I think it is appropriate that you know.”

  “Dad,” Deborah replied, trying to keep her emotions in check. “I love you, and thank you for telling me. I'll see you tomorrow.” She kissed the phone and pushed the end button. William Lance wiped the tear from his eye as he walked past the giant Christmas tree to his office.

  Deborah walked as fast as she could in the snow as she yelled for Bud to wait up for her. He turned around and had a look of concern on his face when she walked up to him and gave him a hug.

  “What's wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she answered, “everything is right. I'm staying with you tonight,” and she kissed him.

  He looked at her. “You are my Christmas present?”

  She smiled and answered, “Your Christmas past, present, and future, Bud. You have always been there for me since the day I met you.” He kissed her again as they started walking toward South Street to the Henry Hallock house.

  Bud turned his head as he put his arm around Deborah and saw Lindsey across the street looking at them with a warm smile on her face. She looked so beautiful under the streetlight that shined brightly on her. He nodded to her as he kissed Deborah, looked back again at the young girl, and noticed that there was no streetlight at all yet there was light on Lindsey. Bud felt a warmth throughout his body as he turned his attention back to Deborah. The beautifully decorated village normally played Christmas music from the Pie restaurant, but now at this moment it played a Christian song titled “Me, Without You,” by Toby Mac.

  Lindsey took her phone out of her pocketbook and sent Bud a text, Merry Christmas Bud. May God bless you. She was still looking at them through the falling snow as her phone made the sound when she received a text.

  “Lindsey! What are you doing? Let's go home,” Sharyn Wilkerson said.

  “Yes, Mother,” Lindsey answered. As they got in the car she looked at her text message. The young girl let out a long sigh, closed her eyes, looked up in the sky, and said, “He knows, Dear Lord.�
�� She smiled as she looked at the text again. It said, Merry Christmas to you as well, my sweet guardian angel.

  EPILOGUE

  THREE WEEKS LATER

  JANUARY 18

  As Kevin Cronin sat in the Mount Sinai diner waiting to meet a potential witness, his thoughts drifted to what occurred during the past few weeks and where everyone was. William Lance, as promised, turned himself in with his high-powered attorney claiming self-defense. Based on the nature of the crime he was released on bail after surrendering his passport. William Lance had gone before a grand jury satisfying them on his justification of the use of force. Deborah Lance took a leave of absence from the school and stayed by her father's side each time he appeared with his attorney. Her initial reaction was shock when he spoke to her, but after a long cry and hug she became strong with the help of Rachelle and Bud.

  Bud still had not returned to the task force but he informed Powers that his doctor at the rehabilitation center gave a date of March 1 for his return. He was never hurting for company, so he was never lonely. Even when he was alone at the Henry Hallock house he would hear voices downstairs, so he would just say, “Please, Grandma, let me sleep.”

  Cronin smiled as he continued down the list in his thoughts. Justin Healey would meet up with Bud and became a fan of the Pie and its owner, Kristen Pace. As Bud predicted, the young officer developed a crush on her. While she was older than him, you would never know it from the way she kept herself in shape. They became a couple and Cronin noticed the maturity in him since dating her. Bud would sometimes tease her and bring in a microphone to read the news like she was on Fox News. She always took it in stride, and Justin loved the way she laughed. Even the staff created a hot and spicy pizza called the Foxy Pie.