Wrecker

by Dave Conifer

  Creedmoor led them down a ramp onto the dark, windy beach and all the way to the wet sand where the ocean surf splashed over their feet. Allie started to cry, either because her feet were cold or her new shoes were getting wet. Jane knew they were walking north, parallel to the boardwalk, but she was too distraught to understand exactly where they were. They were moving so quickly that all three were breathing hard by the time they turned away from the ocean and headed back toward the glittering haze of the casinos. Still hand in hand when they reached the boardwalk, they weaved through the still-heavy pedestrian traffic and entered a building through a wide bank of doors.

  The bright light that pierced Jane’s eyes was so painful that she kept them partially closed as she followed Creedmoor, who guided them through a lobby and into an elevator. After ascending what felt like about six floors the doors parted and Creedmoor pulled them into a long, bright hallway that made Jane squint again. A few dozen steps later he let go of Jane’s hand long enough to swipe a plastic card through a slot on a numbered door and push it open.

  It had been a long day, Jane thought as Creedmoor waved her and Allie inside before securing the door. Jane remembered how she’d arrived at the hospital that morning on her off day to spend a few hours doing research at the computer. It seemed so long ago. A lot had happened, most of it bad.

  Chapter 20

  Ordinarily Duane Rockingham wouldn’t have been very happy that his cell phone had gone off at just past two o’clock in the morning. This time was an exception. He was in bed, but hadn’t gone to sleep yet. All he could think about was Jane Havelock and her family and he had no doubt that this phone call was about exactly that. Without turning the light on he felt around for the phone in time to answer it before it stopped ringing.

  “You’re not going to believe this!” he heard Boone say even before he’d lifted the phone all the way to his ear. “Duane? You there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. What happened? Is it about Jane?”

  “Sure is. Her husband, actually. Or his car. It was found in Atlantic City. Somebody put a bomb in it and blew it up. Five other cars burned up with it.”

  “Jesus God,” Rockingham said. “This is crazy. Was anybody in it?”

  “No,” Boone answered. “It was empty. A 2008 Audi A4.”

  “That’s what he drives, all right. But you already knew that,” Rockingham said. “The neighbors at their house were talking about it. They said it was sitting in the driveway during that fire at the house. A lot of fires happening all of a sudden, huh?”

  “Two in a space of three hours,” agreed Boone.

  “And how in the world did it get to Atlantic City?” Rockingham asked. “Actually, come to think of it, they all said that they saw Jane drive that car away from the house. Not the husband. What’s his name again?”

  “Steven Havelock. Age thirty-three.”

  “So it was probably Jane that had the car in Atlantic City, not Steven,” Rockingham surmised. “But what the hell was she doing in Atlantic City a few hours after her house burned down? Whatever it is, it ain’t gambling or partying.”

  “Not on the same night her house burned down,” Boone agreed. “There’s more, Duane. They found two bodies near the car. Nobody we know.”

  “No? Who were they?”

  “I couldn’t get an ID. It was two kids. Late teens. One, boy, one girl. The boy was shot and the girl died of blunt trauma to the head. Duane, they said her skull was completely crushed. She wasn’t just killed. She was brutalized. Somebody split her head open like a coconut.”

  “I’ll bet it was just a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Rockingham said. “At least I know what I’m dealing with now.”

  “We need to give the AC police a call about this, Duane,” Boone said. “We have to tell them what we know.”

  “And what exactly is that?” Rockingham asked. “What do we know?”

  “Come on, Duane. We know who killed those two kids. We have to tell them about this man Creedmoor. He’s a killer on the loose.”

  “Not until I get down there. I owe this guy and I’m going to take him down myself if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “Duane, you—“

  “Anything else, Joe?” Rockingham asked as he hunted for some clothes.

  Boone sighed. “Well, there’s this. I did some checking. Creedmoor owns a condo in AC. It’s not under his own name but I was able to trace it. Does the name ‘Robert Manteo’ mean anything to you?”

  “That name means a hell of a lot to me. Where was the car when it burned?”

  “In the Tropicana parking garage. Creedmoor’s condo is at the Atlantic Towers. It’s close by,” Boone said. “But of course, in AC, everything’s close by.”

  “Here’s what I think happened. Creedmoor took the little girl with him. He probably went to his place in Atlantic City. Then he used her to lure the mother. That’s why the car ended up there. The car that we know she was driving.” Rockingham found the pen and pad that he kept on the nightstand. “The biggest question is where the hell the husband is. Okay, let me have the condo address.” He scratched it out on the pad and slid the pen behind his ear. “I’m going to Atlantic City.”

  “Okay, Duane. I’m only on for another hour but I’ll stick around after that. If I see anything else I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks, Joe, I appreciate it,” Rockingham said. “Hey, I tell you what. Let’s do everything by cell phone instead of regular channels. I don’t want to hear any jurisdiction crap from every cop between here and AC who hears us talking. We’ll just keep it to ourselves as long as we can.”

  “Will do, Duane, will do.”

  ~~~

  “Eddie, it’s Steve. Were you up?”

  “Dude, it’s the middle of the night.”

  “Sorry, but I’ve got problems,” Steve said. “The caveman kidnapped Jane and Allie.”

  “Is that all? Take two aspirins and call me in the morning.”

  “Eddie, I’m not joking. He burned our house down and took Allie. Now he’s got Jane.”

  “Not funny, man. Are you drunk?”

  “Eddie, I’m not trying to be funny. Come on, this is real. Help me.”

  “I’m going to pretend you’re serious,” Eddie said. “He burned your house down? Did you call the police?”

  “He warned us not to. Last I heard they were at the Trop in AC.”

  “They all went to Atlantic City? You’re a bad storyteller. That’s the best you could do?”

  “Go check out my house if you don’t believe me. Then get over here and pick me up. I’m at the Sea View Motel in Absecon without a car, so hurry your ass up. Come on, Eddie, I need help. I swear to God I’m not bullshitting you. I swear to God. I don’t know what to do. Just hurry.”

  ~~~

  His unofficial case file was growing. After getting dressed and setting off for Atlantic City, Rockingham pulled out the grubby sheaf of papers and tossed them onto the seat beside him. As he drove he scanned each under the tiny dashboard light until he found the one with cell phone numbers for Steve and Jane. It was a shot in the dark but maybe he could learn something with some quick phone calls. Maybe, just maybe, things weren’t as bad as they seemed and Jane would laugh at him for worrying so much and driving around for half the night. Of course, even if that was the case, he reminded himself, he still had to account for the house that burned down, a firebombed car and two corpses in an Atlantic City parking garage.

  He tried her number first. It rang and rang with no answer. Just before it cut into voicemail he hung up, rechecked the number, and dialed again. The same thing happened. Looks like Jane is busy, he thought. He looked on the sheet for Steve’s number and dialed it, expecting the same result, but was surprised when somebody answered it almost immediately.

  “What the fuck’s going on!” an angry voice demanded. “Where are they? I’m coming after you! You’re a dead motherfucker when I find you!”

  Rockingham glanced at th
e phone, which of course offered no explanation for what he was hearing. What the hell is this? “Hello? Mr. Havelock?”

  “Cut the shit, Creedmoor!” For the first time in his life Rockingham actually felt a tingle run from the base of his spine all the way into his brain. He said Creedmoor. I’m not wrong. I’m on to something.

  “Mr. Havelock! Listen to me!” he said. “It’s not Creedmoor! It’s Sergeant Duane Rockingham from the Hammonton Police Department. I know what’s going on with you and Creedmoor. Jane’s been keeping me up to date. We’ve been working together on this. Where are you?”

  There was a momentary pause. “Wait. Who are you?” Steve demanded. “You know where she is?”

  “There’s no time for me to explain. Not now. I think your wife and daughter are in danger.”

  “No kidding. How—“

  “There’s no time,” Rockingham repeated. “I’ll explain later. Are you safe? You’re not at the house are you? Tell me where you are. I’m coming to get you.” He flipped on the lights and siren and jammed his foot onto the accelerator even before Steve had a chance to answer.

  Later, as he sped toward the shore as fast as the cruiser would take him, he laughed to himself. He’s all the way down in Absecon? I guess there was time to talk after all.

  ~~~

  Jane recognized the ring tone of her cell phone as she lay stretched out on the bed. Got to be Steve, she thought. If only she could find a way to answer it. But Creedmoor was lying on the bed next to her and it didn’t sound like he was asleep either. Besides, she was lashed tightly to the bed in at least four different places. Nothing had happened since they’d arrived except that they’d been tied up and the lights were turned out. For an hour she’d listened to Allie crying on the other bed, where she was presumably restrained in the same way. It was a relief to Jane when her daughter finally cried herself to sleep.

  “Should I get it?” asked Creedmoor. “Nah. It’s probably not for me,” he said, snickering at his own joke. Jane squeezed her eyes closed as tightly as she could, wishing it was all a bad dream. But of course it wasn’t. She knew that for sure when the phone started ringing all over again.

  ~~~

  There wasn’t just one but two anxious-looking thirtyish men waiting outside the battered motel when Sergeant Rockingham barreled into the parking lot. Certain that one of them was Steve Havelock, Rockingham pulled the cruiser into a spot near where they were standing and jumped out. “Havelock?” he asked.

  One of the men moved closer. “That’s me. I’m Steve Havelock.”

  “Duane Rockingham. Holy hell!” Rockingham exclaimed when he saw blood seeping from a deep gash on Steve’s forehead. “How did that happen?”

  “Manteo cracked me with a can of paint. Knocked me out. It still hurts like hell.”

  “It’s already turning blue. No way you don’t have a concussion. When was this?” Rockingham asked.

  Steve sighed. “I don’t even know where to start. It was at my house this afternoon.”

  “Before the fire?”

  “You know about that?” Steve asked. “Who are you?”

  “We’ve got to get to Atlantic City,” Rockingham said. “Let’s go. We’ll talk on the way.”

  “What good is that going to do? We’ve got to call the police!” Steve argued. “We’re running out of time!”

  “I am the police,” Rockingham said.

  “You’re one man!” Steve said. “We need the whole force!”

  “The police don’t know this man. They can’t handle him.”

  “And you can?”

  “I have an advantage. I know how to get at him. They don’t. He’ll see them coming and that’ll be it.”

  “You sound just like Jane. She laid that same bullshit on me three or four hours ago. Now she’s gone, too.”

  “Who’s our friend here?” Rockingham asked.

  “This is my buddy, Eddie Durham.”

  “Okay,” Rockingham said with a nod. “You guys can call me Duane.”

  “Jane called me about an hour ago,” Steve said. “She said they’re going to Maine. I think we should call the police.”

  “Hmm. Back to where this all started,” Rockingham said. “You know, it’s starting to make some sense. Today’s the fifteenth, right? Tomorrow is exactly five years since the accident. He must have had this planned all along.”

  “You know an awful lot about this,” Eddie observed.

  “I’ll try to explain why on the way to AC. Let’s go.”

  “They could be anywhere between here and Maine!” Steve interrupted. “I’m calling the police!”

  “He’s not taking them to Maine,” Rockingham said. “If he was, why would he tip us off? It’s a smokescreen.”

  “We can’t be sure,” Steve answered.

  “I can,” Rockingham told him. “But even if I’m wrong, Maine is six or seven hours away. If we don’t find them here we have plenty of time to call up to Gorham and tell them to be on the lookout.”

  “Gorham?” Eddie asked.

  “That’s the town where the accident happened,” Rockingham explained. “If he really is planning some kind of celebration in Maine, that’s where he’ll do it.”

  “How the fuck do you know so much about this?” Steve demanded. “Who are you again? You’re really creeping me out.”

  “Don’t worry about it for now. Who’s got a car?”

  “I do,” Eddie volunteered.

  “Good. We’ll take that.”

  “Why aren’t we taking the squad car?” Steve asked.

  “Same reason we’re not calling in the ACPD. Because we’re going undercover. I don’t want to give this guy any clue that anybody knows where he is. Even some lone sergeant from Hammonton.” He took a look at the blue Dodge minivan that Eddie was unlocking. “Well, if we’re going undercover this is as good as it gets.”

  “Maybe you’re right. He did tell Jane not to tell the police,” Steve allowed. “Or else.”

  “Of course. He’s got leverage and he knows how to use it.” Rockingham walked over to the cruiser and opened the trunk. After rummaging around he pulled out a duffel bag and some equipment before returning to the rear of the van. “Hey, can you pop the hatch open?” He stowed the gear in the back of the van and they were off.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” Rockingham asked Eddie.

  “Downtown AC, right?”

  “Yes sir,” Rockingham answered before turning to Steve in the back seat. “You know who this guy is, right? How much do you know about what’s happening here?”

  “How much do you know?” Steve retorted.

  “This is no time for a pissing contest,” Rockingham warned. “Tell me what you know.”

  “Jane called me this afternoon about it. He’s a guy I used to work with on a drug project. Narvatek. I guess it was just dumb luck that we hired him to work at the house. Who’d have thought he was working as a handyman now?”

  “Dumb luck?” Rockingham asked. “You still don’t get it, son! This is not a coincidence!”

  “It has to be,” Steve countered. “It was completely random. I can prove it. I was at Home Depot the same day he was. That’s where it all started. We both just happened to be there that day and I hired him. That’s all it was.”

  “You’re underestimating him. That’s what he wanted you to think,” Rockingham said. “But it was all part of his plan. He probably followed you around for months looking for a way in. You know about the accident in Maine, right?”

  “Jane told me about that today, too. First I ever heard of it. Creedmoor told her it was my fault. If it wasn’t for me he’d have been there with them. Then somehow they wouldn’t have crashed,” he added sarcastically.

  “He said straight up that he holds you responsible for it?” Rockingham asked. “She didn’t mention that to me. That explains everything.”

  “Wait a minute,” Eddie said. “Are you saying this is the guy from Narvatek? The caveman?”

  �
��That’s what Jane says,” Steve answered. “I can’t recognize the guy at all.”

  “He’s added a hundred pounds of muscle, shaved his head and he’s got a foot-long beard,” Rockingham pointed out. “Of course you don’t recognize him.”

  “But why would he blame me?”

  “You’re joking, right?” Eddie asked. “Why wouldn’t he? You told me yourself. You lied through your teeth and blamed the whole fiasco on him. His company folded. You wrecked his career. Now it turns out that his entire family died because he wasn’t with them because he was busy defending himself against your lies. How could he not blame you?”

  “And now he’s got your wife and daughter. I guess his plan’s kind of obvious,” Rockingham said. “He wants revenge.”

  “Okay. That’s my end of it. So let me ask you this,” Steve said to Rockingham. “It’s the middle of the night and you’re in a minivan thirty miles from your jurisdiction with two guys you’ve never met before. You’re not even on duty. What are you doing here? It isn’t your problem. I appreciate it and all, but I’m confused. Why do you care?”

  Rockingham stared out the window for a moment before he answered. “Your wife called me. Does it really matter?”

  “I just want to understand what we’re doing here,” Steve explained.

  “We’re rescuing your wife and daughter from a madman,” Rockingham volunteered.

  “That part I get. So how long before we’re there?” Steve asked.

  ~~~

  “Rob?” Jane said quietly into the darkness after Creedmoor had returned from the bathroom where she’d heard him vomiting.

  “What?” he answered immediately.

  “Are you getting worse?”

  “I’m good.”

  “I kind of thought we’d gotten to be friends,” she said.

  “We did,” he answered.

  “Then why are you doing this?”

  “It’s not about you,” he told her. “Or your daughter.”

  “Of course it is. We’re the ones you’re going to kill, aren’t we? That makes it all about Allie and me. It’s about revenge, isn’t it?”