Haunted

by James Patterson

  I sat in the living room with Sadie. She was quiet, and I wanted to make sure she was okay. She’d been careful to wipe the tears from her eyes and make sure no one would realize she had been crying.

  I just sat next to her on the couch quietly. We both watched as the paramedics came through and the state police started to secure the house. I hadn’t told them anything yet. They knew who I was and suspected that I had quite a tale to tell.

  First I needed to talk to Sadie about a few things.

  “Sadie, sweetheart, I need you to listen to me very carefully.”

  She turned those big, intelligent eyes to me but didn’t say a word.

  “Someone is going to ask you questions about what happened down there. I don’t know who it will be or when, but it’s going to happen.”

  She nodded.

  “You need to tell them how scared you were and that you were just protecting yourself.”

  “I wasn’t really scared. I knew what I was doing.”

  “And that’s exactly what I don’t want you to tell anyone.”

  She gave me a sly smile. “Doesn’t giving me advice like that violate your oath as a police officer?”

  “I can’t watch another kid go to jail. I can’t bear to see you sent away for something like this. That’s why I’m asking you to do it as a favor to me.”

  “You want me to lie?”

  “Did you think Dell Streeter was going to come after you at some point?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you won’t be lying. It was self-defense. You had to do it to save yourself. Be very vague on everything else. Tell them you’ll only talk to Detective Coles from the Linewiler PD. They won’t realize you already know her.”

  I could see her considering it. Finally she said, “I’ll do it for you. But you’ve got to make sure Dell goes to jail.”

  I was already working on that in my head. There were a few problems. Streeter himself had already mentioned the biggest problem. Anything he said and anything we found could be suppressed by a judge.

  I had to figure a way around that.

  Chapter 88

  As the house became crowded with paramedics and cops, Sadie and I moved out to the front porch to wait for Sandy Coles to arrive. I’d already made Sadie run through her story a couple of times and was starting to feel confident that we would at least be able to walk away from the scene.

  That still left the problem of finding a way to use the information Streeter provided while under duress. Legal procedure dictates that cops shy away from torture when questioning suspects. We needed another source of the information.

  Sadie and I both suppressed smiles as they brought Streeter out of the house on a stretcher. He was already yapping like a little dog. His twang made his tirade even more comical.

  When the wheels of the stretcher scuffed the hard wood, he barked, “Easy on the floor, asshole. I paid a lot of money to have that floor laid down just right. You ruin it with this stretcher, and the county will be hearing from my attorney.”

  As they brought him down the stairs on the porch he was jostled pretty hard, and one of the wheels of the stretcher bounced off the second step. I knew it was probably done on purpose.

  Streeter yelled, “Great! Now I’ll have spinal issues along with everything else. Have you guys ever been able to rescue someone alive?”

  Then, when they turned him around to load him into the ambulance, he saw the two of us sitting outside on the porch swing. That really agitated him.

  He pointed with his left hand—the only one that still had fingers available to point—and said, “She did this to me. Someone needs to arrest that girl. I mean right damn now.”

  As they closed the ambulance door, we could still hear him shouting for someone to do something about Sadie.

  I looked at her and said, “See? He was threatening you again. Anything you did was in self-defense.”

  Sandy pulled up and parked outside the fence of the compound. The property was already filled with rescue vehicles and police cars. She made her way around them and headed for the porch.

  As soon as she saw Sadie sitting safely next to me, she started to cry. I had never seen Sandy Coles cry in my entire life. She bounded up the steps and embraced the girl. When she squeezed her tight, Sadie started to cry as well.

  I was about to explain to Sandy exactly what had happened and what I’d told Sadie to say. I was also going to tell her about the drugs in the closet. Then fate stepped in. That’s the only way I can describe it. I suddenly saw a chance to fix the biggest problem with our case.

  A Dodge Charger drove past the compound slowly. I stared through the open window at the passenger and driver.

  Next to me, Sadie said, “That’s D.T. and Billy Ray.”

  “Those are Streeter’s bodyguards, right?”

  Sadie said, “They’re the other two who live here full-time. I don’t know what their exact job is. They came from Texas with him.”

  I said to Sandy, “Let me borrow your keys.”

  She said, “What are you going to do, Bennett?”

  “Fix this case’s biggest problem. But I’ve got to do it right now, and I’ve got to do it alone.”

  Chapter 89

  I knew the road went on for more than a mile before it petered out into an unpaved trail. Eventually it just stopped in the woods. Either I would catch up to the bodyguards or they would have to come back the same way. There were no other options.

  I can honestly say that while working for the NYPD, I had never chased anyone named Billy Ray before. Still, this wasn’t actually a chase. They weren’t running from me. I wasn’t even sure what was going to happen if I caught them.

  I passed a few houses similar to Dell Streeter’s on the way up the winding road. One house looked out of place because it was spectacularly well maintained and had a stable behind it with two horses loitering in front of the building.

  But I still didn’t see the Dodge.

  Finally, just as the paved road turned into the trail, I saw the car turning around and preparing to head back down the road. This was the moment of truth. How much force could I use to stop them? How could I explain the force I used? Were they suspects? Were they witnesses? I had to play this smart.

  I pulled Sandy’s car at an angle across the road. There was no mistaking it was a police car, and I didn’t want them to drive past me. I stepped out of the driver’s-side door and kept the car between me and the two associates of Dell Streeter.

  The driver—I didn’t know if it was Billy Ray or D.T.—revved the engine. The powerful Hemi motor sounded like a jet preparing for takeoff.

  I pulled my pistol from its holster but kept it out of sight. I was starting to question my judgment in chasing down these two by myself. But I had a plan and intended to stick to it.

  The tires of the car squealed and kicked up gravel as it started down the road directly toward me. I judged the distance, figuring out whether I needed to spring off to the side or fire a couple of rounds into the windshield.

  Then the driver hit the brakes, and the wheels skidded along the road, causing smoke to come off them. The Dodge slid to a stop inches away from the car I’d borrowed from Sandy.

  I kept my cool and walked around the police vehicle’s trunk. I kept my eyes on the Dodge and noted that neither of the occupants moved a muscle. They were both staring at me. That’s when I noticed how young they were. Probably not even thirty. That worked into my plan very well.

  I stayed at the trunk and used my left hand to motion both of them to come over and talk to me. It was a casual movement, not an order from an angry cop.

  They both showed some decent judgment as they eased out of the car slowly and made sure I could see their hands clearly as they approached.

  The taller one, who had a scraggly beard, said, “Is there something we can do for you, Officer?”

  I gave him a quick smile and said, “Let’s cut through the bullshit. You’re Billy Ray, right?”

&n
bsp; The lanky young man looked a little surprised and nodded.

  I kept my eyes on both of them to make sure no one did anything stupid. My pistol was still in my right hand, hidden from sight below the trunk of the car.

  I said, “You saw we had the entire cavalry at your house. I know you’ve got to be curious about what’s going on.”

  They both stared at me silently. Then the shorter one, D.T., shrugged. “I wondered what could attract so much attention.”

  Good—I had them hooked. The first step in my plan.

  I said, “Your boss, Dell, is in custody. He’s already told us quite a bit. He told me that you hid the heroin in a compartment at the top of the closet in his office.”

  That got their attention. Just the way I wanted it to.

  Now I took a little risk. “He told us about the bodies, too.” I let that sink in. “But I know you two work for him, and I want to give you a chance to save yourselves some serious prison time. Prison time up here, in a place where you have no family and no friends and where no one really likes Texans.”

  Streeter was right all along. If I went into court and said he told us where the drugs were hidden while he was being threatened with a pistol, he’d be out in less than an hour. But if these guys volunteered the information, if I used their statements, then we had a much better chance in court. But I had to sell it. This is what cops did all the time. They sold their ideas to peers and superiors.

  I said, “Boys, you better make a business decision real quick. You can be on the train as it leaves the station or under it. It doesn’t make much difference to me. I just want to make a better case against your boss. He’s already implicated you guys. I was just curious if you wanted to act tough or go home and see your families.”

  It was Billy Ray who cracked. He realized I wouldn’t know about the drugs in the closet unless Dell really had said something. He had no idea how much or how little his boss had said, but he had definitely talked. That’s all it took.

  The lanky young man said, “What do you need from us?”

  I smiled. I knew Sandy had a voice recorder in the car. This was going to work out just fine.

  Chapter 90

  I showed up back at the house and met Sandy on the porch. I had a well-deserved smug smile on my face. She looked over my shoulder at her car and saw D.T. and Billy Ray sitting in the backseat.

  She said, “What’s this? Do you have probable cause on these two?”

  “They’re on our team now. They’re not even cuffed.” I held up her voice recorder, which I had used to take statements from both young men.

  I hit Play, and Billy Ray’s voice said, “There’s a hidden compartment at the top of the closet in the office. We always keep as much as ten ounces of heroin in that compartment, plus whatever else we’re selling.”

  Sandy just stared at me. It was exactly the kind of reaction I was hoping for. I like to surprise people once in a while.

  I said, “They both have lived here in the house for more than two years, and I had them write out their consent for us to search the entire premises.”

  Sandy was still speechless.

  I liked it more as each second passed. I said, “Now no cheesy lawyer can attack the search warrant we were going to get. And it doesn’t matter what Dell Streeter babbled about before they took him to the hospital.”

  Sandy said, “So you’re saying there are drugs hidden at the top of the closet in the office?”

  Two state cops overheard it and raced into the house. Someone would claim a great stat and possibly a cash seizure. It wasn’t in Sandy’s jurisdiction anyway.

  Sandy said, “All I’ve gotten out of Sadie is that she was in fear for her life and defending herself. She keeps repeating it like a mantra. If I were the suspicious type, I would think she was coached by a professional.”

  “Is that something you want to look into?”

  “Not a chance.”

  I smiled as I sighed with relief. I said, “My two new partners have some other interesting information for us. I just got a few details, but it’s pretty good stuff. I thought you might want to invite one of your state friends in for a longer interview.”

  “What did they say?”

  “That the Canadian mob has been trying to corner the market on synthetic drugs. They’ve made a big push into meth, ecstasy, and anything else that can be cooked up in a half-assed lab.”

  “Interesting, but will it help with our case at all?”

  “It seems that a couple of Quebecers with an attitude came to explain the market to Mr. Streeter around five months ago. During the course of the explanation, Mr. Streeter lost control and shot both of them. For one reason or another he and D.T. and Billy Ray buried the bodies behind the barn. That should be pretty easy to check out. That would also give us a murder rap on good old Dell.”

  Sandy let out a little laugh and shook her head. “Could you be any more satisfied with yourself?”

  “Not as it relates to this investigation. Neither of these two admitted to shooting Mickey Bale. I didn’t want to scare them off by mentioning something they could be charged with. Maybe during the longer interview, you and one of the state cops can get them to talk about it.”

  “I’d say you did all right. At least for a rookie Linewiler cop. Maybe you’ve got a future in this business.”

  “It’s funny you say that. I’ve been looking at all my options recently. I’m going to leave it up to other people. I’ve missed out on too many things with my family not to include them in any decision I make about my career.”

  “Good for you.” She looked over her shoulder at Sadie, who was swinging gently in the little porch swing.

  I said, “Do you think she’s going to be okay?”

  “I’ll keep a close eye on her. I think she might have exorcised some of her demons today. But she’s got a lot of healing to do.”

  Then Sandy looked me in the eye and said, “Now what? You’ve only got a couple more days of vacation. What’s your plan for that family? You’ve solved all the world’s problems here. Now you’ve got to focus on them.”

  “I’ve got big plans for them. Right now I’m going to go home, grab a few hours’ sleep, then run into town for a couple of errands. By this time tomorrow, everyone will have a clear idea of how serious I am about my family’s future.”

  Chapter 91

  It was late in the afternoon by the time I drove into town. Linewiler was abuzz with rumors and comments about what happened at Dell Streeter’s compound. The best one I heard was that he was running a cult that involved human sacrifice. I hoped that one would keep spreading. I made no comment when I heard a woman in one of the stores I visited say it.

  It was big news, and two different TV stations had sent teams to cover it. The fact that there were so many police at the house meant that something big had happened. I watched one quick news report designed as a promo for the evening news. All it said was that a man was being treated for gunshot wounds as a murder investigation was unfolding at a residence outside the city limits. Close enough.

  It was only a matter of time before stations up and down the East Coast cruised in for the story. There was too much to ignore. Drugs, guns, bodies. The media would have a field day with this. CNN would give the story its own theme music.

  I’d already been through two stores when I found exactly what I was looking for. The man behind the counter agreed with my choice and happily accepted my American Express card.

  When I stepped out onto the sidewalk in the quaint little downtown area, I almost ran into a large man in a red-and-black plaid shirt. It took me a moment to realize it was one of the vigilantes from the other night. The guy with a big mouth. Anthony.

  It turned out he was obnoxious even without his friends behind him.

  He immediately said, “I figured you’d be in here, spending someone’s money. Did you find a stash of cash at Dell Streeter’s house?”

  “Look, I don’t know what you want, friend. Dell Stre
eter is in custody. We told you it would happen.”

  “All you New Yorkers are the same. You think you’re so much smarter than everyone else around the country. You look at me and just see a country boy who’s not sophisticated enough to know how the world works. I got news for you, Bennett. I went to the University of New Hampshire. I’ve been around. I know how things work.”

  I avoided any cracks about a university not named New York or Columbia. It wasn’t easy, but I ignored my smart-ass instincts. “I’m sorry you feel that way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got things to do.”

  The beefy man didn’t move. He just stared at me with his brown eyes set under bushy black eyebrows.

  He said, “What are you charging Streeter with?”

  “Not that I need to explain the criminal justice system to you, but I believe they have a decent narcotics charge on him for a start. They’re looking into some kind of homicide charges for the bodies that were buried at the house. I’m not involved in that part of the investigation.”

  “Sounds like we’ll never get an answer about who shot poor Mickey Bale. He was a great guy who lived right. He was gunned down in our own little town, and the cops aren’t going to do shit about it.”

  Somehow I managed to keep my cool. I don’t even know why I continued to engage this moron. He sounded like the people who spouted off about officer-involved shootings but didn’t have any more facts than a newscaster did and had no experience in police work.

  I counted to five silently, then said, “I think the drive-by shooting will fall into place once they get clear statements from everyone. Just show a little patience and calm down. I think you’ll be surprised by how satisfied everyone will be with the efforts of the police.” It was a subtle little dig to tell people to calm down when they were agitated. Usually it only served to upset them further. Maybe I wanted to take this argument to the next level. But it wasn’t worth worrying about anymore.