Letting You Down (An Allie Down Mystery Thriller Book 4)

by PJ Fernor

  “That’s a valid point. It’s safe to say after this gesture, you really owe me now, don’t you, Detective?”

  I swallowed hard.

  My right wrist ached and bled.

  “I’m getting dizzy, Giovanni,” I said. “I’m losing blood…”

  Giovanni turned. He looked at Timothy’s knife for a second but was smart enough not to touch it. He produced a switchblade knife of his own and cut through the ropes on my right wrist.

  I shut my eyes and breathed through the pain.

  He repeated the same motion for my left hand and then my legs.

  The second I was free of the chair, I took off my top shirt and quickly wrapped it around my wrist tight enough to stop the bleeding.

  I sat on the floor with my back to the wall.

  Giovanni stood up, towering over me as a dark figure.

  “Remember this, Detective,” he said.

  “I will never forget this, Giovanni,” I said.

  “You need to find him. The One.”

  “Timothy was working with The One. Taking directions.”

  “I know,” Giovanni said. “The One ordered Victor to be killed. The One called Victor to complete a job and set him up to die.”

  “That’s why you did this to Timothy?” I asked.

  “I hope he survives,” Giovanni said. “So he can talk and then I can have him killed.”

  “If he dies?” I asked.

  “Then oh well. You’ll still find The One and bring him to me. Just like we agreed upon. Right?”

  I stared at Giovanni.

  I refused to answer him.

  Slowly, Giovanni bent his knees and lowered himself down.

  “Detective, I cannot express how important it is you understand the roles of this relationship. This is not a detective calling the shots. You’re not going to turn this around on me. Ever. Do you understand that?”

  I nodded. “I understand. If you don’t mind, I’d like to figure out what to do next. My arm is bleeding. I need medical attention. My partner was on his way to Timothy’s house. So I need to call him and get him back here. And I need to come up with a story that makes what happened in here believable.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Giovanni said. “And then you’re going to find The One and bring him to me. Correct?”

  Reluctantly, I nodded.

  Giovanni stood back up.

  “Before you leave,” I said. “How did you figure this all out?”

  “Detective, I know everything,” Giovanni said. He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Plus, Timothy Perkins owed us money.”

  “What?”

  “He took out a loan a month ago. To cover his mortgage. He was so far behind, the bank was going to take his house. I stopped that from happening. And all I asked for in return was to be paid back.”

  “With an obscene interest rate, I’m sure,” I said.

  “That’s just the price of doing business,” Giovanni said. “Now look at him. He bumped into the wrong person. He killed one of my guys. Now he can suffer a little. Or a lot. You should make your calls and get patched up. You have work to do, Detective. I’ll be in touch again soon.”

  Giovanni walked to the door.

  I shut my eyes and called out his name.

  “Thank you for helping,” I said.

  “You can thank me by bringing me The One.”

  Giovanni started to leave.

  “It’s going to take time,” I said. “I can’t live like this, Giovanni. I can’t look over my shoulder. You need to trust me. I’m not supposed to be working on the case. Anything I do, it has to be done in secrecy.”

  “I don’t work with excuses, Detective,” Giovanni said. “I hear excuses all day long and they all bleed together. People have no problem coming to me for help. Their hands out. Begging. But when it’s my turn to collect, their hands are tucked away and they offer me nothing but excuses. Do you know how many cups of coffee I can buy with excuses?”

  “Not one,” I said.

  “Exactly. Not one. And I’m really in the mood for a good cup of coffee.” Giovanni knocked on the door as he held it open. “You really should get moving, Detective. If Timothy wakes up, I won’t be here to save you again.”

  Giovanni left the room and the door clicked shut behind him.

  Timothy still hadn’t made a move.

  My right hand, wrist, and arm hurt and shook.

  I reached with my left hand and dug my phone out of my pocket.

  As expected, there were texts and calls from Ben.

  Telling me Timothy Perkins wasn’t home. Wondering where I was.

  With one hand, I texted Ben back.

  I’ve got him.

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  “Do I need stitches?”

  That’s all I wanted to know as I stood outside the ambulance, waiting to talk to Ben again.

  Timothy never made a single move on the floor.

  I had gotten my gun out, just to be ready and be safe.

  I couldn’t believe Timothy tied me to the chair and left my gun in place. He was that dead set on tying me up and cutting off my hand.

  Ben finally found me, and he ordered Muldavey to keep an eye on Timothy as he called for an ambulance, for backup, and then he scooped me up into his arms and carried me out of that office.

  “You’re really lucky,” the paramedic said to me. “I know it bled a lot, but you should be okay. I would still like to get you to a hospital and-”

  “I’ll get there,” I said.

  I walked away with my arm bandaged up.

  Ben came out of the building and jogged toward me.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “They said I’m fine,” I said. “Just a nasty cut.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second,” Ben said.

  “Then don’t. I’ll deal with this later. I need to know everything about him. If he’s going to make it or not.”

  “What happened up there, Allie Down?”

  “I fought back and won,” I said. “Just leave it at that.”

  “You’re going to have to tell the entire story,” he said.

  “I will. Right now, I want to finish this thing.”

  “How?”

  “I want to see his house,” I said. “I want to know how many people he killed. I want to…”

  My eyes looked at the building as the doors opened and out came Timothy Perkins on a stretcher.

  Paramedics and police surrounding him.

  He was still unconscious.

  As they wheeled him by, I just stared, feeling way too many emotions at once.

  Ben touched my back. “Allie Down…”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I’m fine. No matter what happens to him now, he won’t hurt anyone else.”

  “That’s right,” Ben said. “Let’s get you to the hospital and get checked out for real. You look dazed. You look scared. You look like you’re hiding something from me.”

  I looked up to Ben. “I have to see his house. We have to start processing it, Ben.”

  “You’re not going to listen to me, are you?”

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “I think I should shut up and get you to my car,” he said. “You are not driving yourself over there. Muldavey will bring your car to the station.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  Ben put his arm around me and we went to his car.

  I was still putting together my story as to what happened in that office.

  The best I could come up with was partially the truth.

  That I stood up and charged at him.

  That I got lucky enough to hit him at the perfect angle that he slipped and hit his head off the door.

  That he stumbled forward, into me, taking both of us down.

  He smashed the back of his head off the door and then front of his head off the floor.

  And I used his knife to cut myself free.

  Done. Simple.

 
I told the story over and over in my head, until we arrived at Timothy’s house.

  There were other vehicles there.

  “It’s all happening now,” Ben said.

  I climbed out of the car and hurried toward the house.

  When I entered the front door, there was a smell that struck me as old. A mix of dust and mothballs.

  The place was very clean.

  In the kitchen, the freezer was open.

  I got close enough to see what was inside.

  There was no food.

  There were hands.

  Wrapped up in gallon freezer bags.

  I covered my mouth and stepped back.

  Ben touched my back. “There’s your total proof, Allie Down. Exactly what we thought. He cut their hands off and kept them.”

  “I know why he did it,” I said. “He told me everything, Ben. These were innocent people. Attacked for no good reason other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person following.”

  “The only solace we have is that he can’t do it again,” Ben said. “He will never do it again. Because of you. Your work. Your persistence. Even if you had to work with Giovanni on the side for a moment. That doesn’t matter now.”

  “It does matter, Ben,” I said. “I just…”

  “We’re looking at four in here!” a voice yelled.

  Four?

  That caught my attention.

  “Four?” I asked. “Show me all four.”

  We knew of Jessica, Harold, and Victor.

  But there was a fourth?

  “I want this done by the book so this guy fries, got it?”

  I turned my head and saw Johnny Barby tearing through the house.

  “There you are,” he said to me. “Ben called. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “She needs to go to hospital and have her arm checked out,” Ben said.

  “Then what are you doing here?” Johnny snapped at me.

  “Finishing my case,” I said. “There’s four hands in the freezer. We only know of three. I need to know who the fourth is…”

  “We can figure that out later,” Johnny said.

  “It’s no use in arguing with her,” Ben said.

  “Then why’d you call me?” Johnny asked Ben.

  “Because you were attached to the case through Harold,” Ben said. “And when I get her out of here, I need someone to be a thorn in everyone’s side.”

  “You obviously called the right guy,” Johnny said.

  I moved forward and watched as the hands were removed from the freezer.

  They were like pieces of meat being taken out to defrost for dinner.

  My stomach flipped and I told myself I was never going to look at frozen meat the same way again.

  When the four hands were placed side by side by side by side, I studied them.

  It was obviously which two were men and the other was a woman…

  And the fourth hand…

  “Oh,” I managed to say.

  I turned and grabbed for Ben.

  “What is it?” he whispered to me.

  “The other hand,” I said. “I know who it is.”

  “Who?” Ben asked, his eyes opened wide.

  “The hand… the rings… it’s Wendy’s hand.”

  Ben pulled me close without saying a word.

  “Who’s Wendy?” Johnny asked.

  “Don’t worry about it right now,” Ben said. “Go be annoying.”

  “On it,” Johnny said. “Take good care of your woman, Ben.”

  “I’ve got her,” Ben said.

  And he did.

  He hugged me tight as I fought back tears.

  All I pictured was Wendy leaving my house, thinking it was her only chance of escape from the life she lived. Only to be found by The One. Only to have The One use Timothy Perkins to kill her. To take her hand. Meaning her body was somewhere else.

  The sad ending to Wendy’s even sadder life.

  It was sad that Wendy died the way she did, and that nobody knew. And nobody cared.

  I heard Johnny behind me barking orders.

  I lifted my gaze to Ben’s eyes, and he stared down at me.

  “Ready to go to the hospital now, Allie Down?” Ben whispered.

  “Yes,” I whispered back.

  I had to get away from anything to do with Timothy Perkins.

  Even if this entire thing was still far from being over.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  “See, I told you I didn’t need stitches,” I said to Ben.

  I waved my wrist in his face as he stood holding two coffees.

  “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said. “Have a coffee. Let’s chat.”

  “About?”

  “Everything, Allie Down. Everything.”

  I exited the hospital and a rush of the cold air hit my face.

  It made the hot coffee that much extra tempting.

  “Everything Timothy told you was true,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “He was involved in a restaurant that went under. There was a lot of shady things done during the transaction but nothing that could be pursued. Hate to say it, but that guy got taken to the cleaners.”

  “And he took that out on others,” I said.

  “Doesn’t make it right.”

  “I would never suggest it,” I said. “But I could see it in his eyes, Ben. The pain. The pain was greater than the anger. He was bored with life and thought he was doing something great. My guess is he wanted the restaurant to get closer to people. I bet if we dug into his life, we’d find a whole story about him.”

  “I don’t want to do that,” Ben said. “I don’t think I care about that man anymore. Nor will I ever. If he manages to wake up, he’s going to be facing a life behind bars.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Ben and I stood at his car. “He’s in a medically induced coma right now, Allie Down. I was told he had swelling on his brain. They might have to cut his head open and take a piece of his skull to let his brain expand… I mean, if you really want to know the details…”

  “I actually don’t,” I said. “Do they think he’s going to survive?”

  “They don’t know,” Ben said. “No matter what, he won’t hurt anyone ever again. If he dies, there’s our justice. If he lives, he faces a jury and I’m sure that won’t end in his favor.”

  “A good defense attorney will find a way around it,” I said.

  “Not four murders.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  I got into Ben’s car.

  He did the same and started it.

  “Now where?” he asked.

  “To your house,” I said. “I need to see the whiteboard again.”

  “You think that’s a good idea right now?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  Ben didn’t say another word about the whiteboard for the rest of the ride to his house.

  I told him about Timothy and The One.

  He understood this was hitting close to home for me.

  And speaking of close to home, when we arrived at his house, his father was in the middle of a heated argument with the nurse. Ben Senior thought it was time to put on his work boots and head to the shop. He was calling out people’s names and what was wrong with their vehicles.

  Ben sprang to action to help his father - and the nurse - while I went upstairs.

  In the bedroom, I looked at the whiteboard.

  I grabbed a red marker and wrote Timothy Perkins’s name.

  It all felt so close. But it was so far from my reach.

  I felt like I was being watched but had no proof.

  That was the most hopeless feeing in the world. Believing something yet having no proof of it.

  I put the marker down and sat on the edge of the bed and lowered my face to my hands.

  That hopeless feeling of being followed and no proof…

  Just like Lori.

 
The woman Muldavey saved.

  The woman who came to the station to talk to me and I all but shooed her away.

  If it hadn’t been for Muldavey trusting his instinct, Lori would have been murdered and we would have still been trying to find Timothy.

  And with The One calling the shots, who knew how close Timothy would have gotten to me and my life.

  “Okay, that’s settled…”

  Ben entered the room and froze.

  I looked at him, my eyes glossy.

  “Allie Down.”

  “I’m good,” I said. “Just reflecting.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up.”

  “How’s your dad?”

  “A little bit calmer,” Ben said. “Just a bad night for him.”

  “Can I bug you for a ride home?” I asked. “I need to get home to Lo. Sorry for telling you to bring me here.”

  “I told you this room was yours, Allie Down. No matter what. Muldavey has your car at home already. I’ll give you a ride. You should watch something with Lo and forget about the world. Including me.”

  “I can never forget about you, Ben,” I said with a smile as I stood back up.

  “Come on,” he said. He put his arm out and I walked to him. “I think it’s pretty cool I get to finally drive Allie Down home.”

  He kissed the top of my head and I smiled even bigger.

  The smile hung around until I got home.

  Ben and I shared a kiss goodbye and I went to my car to find the keys under the front seat where Muldavey left them.

  I waved to Ben and went inside to see Lo.

  Before seeing her, Miss Kesslier met me at the door.

  She touched my arm. “How bad?”

  “Just a scratch,” I said.

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “I know,” I said. “Where’s Lo?”

  “In her room. I think she sat in super glue.”

  “What?”

  “Her butt hasn’t left the bed since she got home from school,” Miss Kesslier said.

  I laughed. “Thanks for holding the fort down.”

  “Everything good?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “We got the guy. Things can start to settle again.”

  “Do they ever settle?”

  “Never,” I said.

  Miss Kesslier hugged me and went home.

  I checked on Lo and smiled when I saw her.

  “What happened to your arm?” she asked.