by Ryan Horvath
“That’s great,” Chad said. “Now maybe ‘this guy’ can go put some pants on so we can talk. I’d hate for something the fly out and smack me in the face. And there’s a lady present.” He nodded toward Holly.
Mitchell didn’t move and instead held onto the door. He let out a laugh. “Wait. What do we have to talk about?” He paused. “I haven’t done an illegal thing with my computer since I was a kid,” he recited in a well-rehearsed fashion.
Chad returned his laughter. “It’s okay, Mitch. I’m not a cop anymore. Relax.”
“Then what’re you doing here?” Mitchell returned.
“We’re helping on a case,” Holly said and stepped beside Chad. “We think Chad’s wife was murdered tonight. And there are some people missing.”
“Fuck,” Mitchell said and wiped all the humor from his face. “Sorry, Offi- er… Chad.”
“It’s okay,” Chad said and held up a hand. “Now is not the time for me to grieve. Now is the time to save some other lives and catch the fucker who did this. And I need your help to do it. I know you’ve got a computer in there. Probably more than one and in spite of your line of horse shit a minute ago, I’m betting you’re still up to some stuff Uncle Sam wouldn’t be too happy about.” He paused and looked Mitchell in the eyes. “But I’m not here about any of that. Holly?” Chad turned his head to say her name but didn’t take his eyes of the younger man’s. Chad held a palm up and Holly quickly dropped something into it. With a slight flip of his hand, Chad held up the fob they found at Andrews’s place for Mitchell to see.
Mitchell looked apprehensively between Chad, Holly, and the fob, but there was intrigue hiding in his eyes as well. He crossed his arms over his smooth chest but still didn’t move or offer them to come inside. He nodded once toward Holly and said, “Holly, is it? Who’re you? How do you know this flatfoot?”
“I’m the assistant medical examiner for Anoka County,” she responded.
Mitchell continued to eye them for a moment more and then said, “Well, an old cop and an AME who’s a bit outside of her jurisdiction seem pretty harmless to me. Step into my abode.” He opened the door wider and turned into the dark house.
Holly and Chad entered after him and Holly pressed the door closed. A light snapped on and they were in a ten-foot hallway. Mitchell was already at the far end, which was a small bathroom and from the doorknob, he took a pair of running shorts. He pulled them on.
“Anything to drink?” Mitchell said.
“We’re fine,” Chad answered. He was surprised to find his body didn’t protest and say tequila, bourbon, beer, beer, beer!
“So what’s the fob for?” Mitchell asked, leaning against the bathroom door frame.
Chad stepped confidently down the hallway. When he was few feet away from Mitchell, he tossed the fob to him. Mitchell caught it easily. “That’s what you’re going to tell us.”
“How many people are missing?” Mitchell asked.
“Two,” Holly said.
“No,” Chad contradicted. “Three.”
“What?!” Holly spat. “Three??”
“Not now,” Chad snapped. “Can you do it?”
Mitchell bounced his head in an easy nod. “Let’s see what we can find out.” He stepped into the dark room to his right. Chad went in too.
Holly was perplexed about Chad’s revelation but she followed the two men.
~*~0~0~*~
In the room, Mitchell switched on two lamps. They illuminated six monitors of the exact same size mounted to one of the walls and with no visible wires. On a desk in front of them rested three wireless keyboards. On two attractive end tables were two identical devices that made Chad and Holly exchange a puzzled look.
Mitchell saw this as he sat down in the one chair in the room. “Those two bad boys are the CPUs.” More pride washed over his face. “I built them myself and they are… well… state of the art to say the least. They can process-“
“Hey, buddy,” Chad interrupted. “You could tell us all about how those things work but I push paper for a living and she handles the dead, so we’ll probably never understand how anyway.”
“Hey!” Holly countered. She actually did have a slight interest in computer science and she touched one of the monitors.
But Chad flashed her a look that said they didn’t have time for a lesson and she ceased any argument she might have been about to offer.
“Fair enough,” Mitchell said. He held up the fob and eyed it. “This isn’t one of ADT’s or Xfinity’s.” He paused. “In fact, it’s not one I recognize.” He leaned over and, on one of the keyboards, he typed a few keystrokes bringing two of the monitors instantly to life.
“But you can open it up and get the serial number right?” Chad said. “Surely you’ve got some program you can hack to look for it that way.”
“That’s what I’m gonna try,” Mitchell answered. He got a small screwdriver from a nearby cup and placed the fob on the desk. “What’re are the numbers here?” He pointed to the four digits.
“We’re not sure yet,” Holly said with a shrug.
“Okay…,” Mitchell responded, drawing the word out. He leaned over and set to unscrewing the back of the fob. When he was finished, he lifted the cover. “Wow!” he said with genuine fascination. “This belongs to a very nice security system.”
“Can you tell us whose?” Chad said.
“No harm in trying,” Mitchell returned. He went back to the keyboard and his fingers flew so fast across it that they appeared to blur.
Mitchell navigated the windows on the monitors so quickly and expertly that it made Holly feel like her slight interest was really more of a petty pipe dream. She’d never be as good as he was.
Within five minutes, the windows on the screens stopped changing and a single name flashed in green.
“There,” Mitchell said and waived a palm toward the word. “ViaCorpSec,” he supplemented. “They are a security company a lot of large corporations use. And hotshot doctors and exclusive hospitals too, given the sensitive material they have to guard.”
“Can you tell us what property this fob it for?” Chad asked.
“Oh, you mean hack ViaCorpSec? Sure. I can do that.” He waited a beat. “If I wanted to go to prison. They have some of the best security tracking out there. I break into them to see what place this fob it for, then they’re gonna be on me like flies on fresh shit.”
“What about whose account? Can you tell us that?” Holly asked.
“Same problem. I’d have to break into their records. That’d mean either Mitchell would be on the lam for the rest of his life or he’d be in a cell for two getting his ass raped by his three hundred pound cell mate. Since I don’t see any large sums of cash with you guys and a nice new untraceable getaway car outside, that’s… not gonna happen,” Mitchell returned with a grimace.
“You said doctors and hospitals use this security company too,” Chad said, steering in another direction. “What can you tell me about a Dr. Justin Andrews? Outside of ViaCorpSec, I mean. He’s a psychiatrist.”
Mitchell didn’t say anything and moved to a second keyboard. Soon images of Justin Andrews popped up in the windows on a third monitor as Mitchell pulled up information on the man. One piece of information was his bank records which suddenly appeared on the fourth monitor. Chad walked closer to it and began to scan.
“Wait! Stop!” he directed when something caught his eye. “Look at this.” He tapped the monitor where there was a charge labeled US SEC OF STATE REGISTRATION.
Mitchell recognized the charge. “He started an LLC.” Without being told to, Mitchell searched the Secretary of State records for the date the charge occurred. “There it is.” A company called JA, LLC had been created that day. “But look here. The LLC closed a month later.”
Chad’s mind was working more quickly than it had in a long time. He found he was slightly enjoying his new sobriety. He ran a hand through his hair, freeing a few loose strands. “Can you search the property reco
rds?”
“Of course,” Mitchell said, and he set to it. In seconds he had something. “Yep. Looks like Justin Andrews used his LLC to buy a piece of property.”
“Where?” Holly asked.
Mitchel gave the address.
“That’s it,” Chad said, tapping the monitor. “That place is what this fob is for.” He studied the address until he had it committed to memory. It was in Plymouth. Not that far at all. “Holly, we’ve got to go.” He turned and headed to the room’s exit. He and Holly disappeared from the room and, a few seconds later, they stepped back outside.
“You’re welcome!” Mitchell hollered after he heard the front door close.
~*~0~0~*~
“Okay,” Holly said when they were back on the front porch. Chad was walking fast and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Hey? Are you going to tell me who this third missing person is?”
“It’s Walt’s mother,” Chad said without hesitation. He opened his phone and saw a missed call from Terry.
Holly gasped.
Chad punched in a number on his phone and called a cab service. To his surprise he was told they had one close, and they were picked up within two minutes.
“How did you know about Walt’s mother?” Holly asked when they were in the cab and moving toward Plymouth.
“Because of this,” Chad said. He pressed some buttons on his phone and handed it to Holly. He saw her turn white in the darkness as she watched the image of Walt’s mother.
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Holly remembered something else Chad had said earlier.
“Hey. Before Mitchell answered the door, you said we weren’t being watched. Why do you think that?” Holly said.
“Cop’s instinct,” Chad returned. “Besides, this asshole is guiding us there. He wants us there.”
“So we’re walking into a trap,” Holly stated rather than questioned. She looked in the cab’s rearview mirror and the driver’s eyes meet hers ever so quickly. She saw no trace of sympathy in them.
“Yeah,” Chad said.
“And we’re just walking right into it,” Holly said, looking back at him.
Chad nodded. “Yeah,” he repeated. “But sometimes the mouse springs the trap and still gets the cheese.”
Holly’s lips quavered and she said, “Not very often.”
“Yeah,” Chad said for the third time. “I know.”
~~28~~
Tim Rock traversed into Plymouth on foot. His body was sore and tired, yet he had no choice but to continue on.
Not far away, Terry and Walt crossed into Plymouth in Terry’s police-issue sedan. Terry was awake and alert but on edge and as they passed the sign for the town line. Clouds rolled in from the west making the night even darker. In the distance, Walt heard a low groan of thunder in the wake of the approaching clouds and it seemed to match the drum in his own chest.
Also, not very distant from there, a taxi crossed into Plymouth. Chad Dean sat behind the driver and looked out the window beside him and thought how he’d gone from suspect to victim to target to a rat tempting a trap and, how underneath all that, he was still just a drunk, but a drunk who’d been sober for more than a full day. He thought, if he survived this, he might be done with the booze. Holly sat next to Chad and thought about how much fear and uncertainty the missing people must be feeling right now along with a growing sense of dread over the near future for all of them.
And at the point where those three parties were converging, Miedo sat and rocked his body in anticipation. He watched the monitors which showed five separate blips indicating the approaching five people. Some, if not all of them, were bound to know who he really was, but that mattered little. It mattered little, as well, that the drunk phobic enlisted another computer geek to help him get there because Miedo would slaughter the geek as soon as he was done here tonight and destroy any evidence the kid might have compiled. What did matter was that, when everyone got here, the fun would begin and, when it was over, there would be no one left standing but Miedo.
~*~0~0~*~
The phone buzzed in Tim’s hand. He was so focused on moving he forgot he was even holding it. He raised the device, looked at the screen, and saw the caller ID read UNKNOWN, but Tim knew who it was.
A few sprinkles of rain hit his hair and shoulders and another low rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. Tim pushed the icon to accept the call and brought the phone to his ear.
“Hello Mr. Star,” the hateful monster said mockingly. “You need to make a slight turn, but you are very close.”
Tim didn’t bother asking how his antagonist knew where he was. He simply said, “What do you want me to do?” Another rumble of thunder rolled in. It was getting closer and the sprinkling got a bit heavier.
“Move to your right. In about a half mile you are going to come to a wrought iron fence.” There was a pause as Tim shifted his course. “And put your ‘jog’ on, Mr. Star. Heather is waiting and time is of the essence.”
In spite of his fatigue, Tim started to jog.
“That’s better, Mr. Star. I see even with your broken dick you still know how to hustle for this silly little phobic girl,” Miedo said. “But having indulged in the girl’s snatch myself, I can’t say as I blame you. For instance, Mr. Star, did you ever notice when you were really deep in her how she’s got this spot that just…”
“Shut up!” Tim fired. He heard the madman’s chuckle mix with more thunder and the sound of his huffing breaths. “I’ve played pawn this whole fucking time. I’m still playing… but I don’t want to hear about the shit you’ve been doing to her. I loved her at least.” He paused. “You fucking unthinkable bastard,” he added.
More laughter came into his ear and Tim’s anger welled into rage as if an accelerant had been poured onto it.
“Do you see the fence yet?” his tormentor asked. “I know it’s dark out there so I don’t want you to slam into it.”
Tim thought he heard genuine compassion at the last part of that sentence.
“You should be coming up on it soon. Very soon,” the monster said.
Tim looked ahead of him. The fence loomed in the darkness but was suddenly illuminated by a bright flash of lightning overhead which caused Tim to flinch and stop his stride.
“Don’t stop, Mr. Star,” the voice goaded. “It’s just a little lightning. From the looks of the weather report, it’s just the beginning of what’s to come. That should make things more interesting. Don’t you think?”
But thunder answered instead of Tim. Tim held the phone to his ear and the rain turned from sprinkling into spitting.
“You know, thanks to you, sweet little Heather here is just terrified of loud noises. You should see how she shook with that last peal of thunder. Her whimpering has got me so fucking horny,” the antagonist went on. “But I don’t have time for her anymore. You sure fucked her up good enough but after what I did to her, well, she’ll probably jump willingly right into Death’s maw tonight… Kind of like Marcia Dean did.” He laughed again.
Tears slid out of Tim’s eyes and mixed with the rain on his cheeks. He’d been partially responsible for Marcia Dean but his culpability in Heather’s torture was greater. “Tell me where you’re at, asshole, and I’ll kill you quick. But if I have to find you, I’m taking my time. And I think you know what I’ll be cutting off first.”
More laughter came to mock Tim and he felt his ire turn to burning rage.
“I love to listen to you talk all macho, Mr. Star,” the antagonist said. “Especially since I know you’re broken below the belt. But I can tell you this: you will never come close to me,” he added with absolute certainty in his voice. “Now, follow the fence to your right. You’ll come to the back gate after twenty-two feet. For your convenience, I’ve left it open for you.”
There was a pause while Tim moved along the fence. Another flash of lightning lit the night and the rain intensified. The top half of Tim’s shirt was now wet and his thin shoes were soggy. Soon
enough, he found the gate.
“There you are, Mr. Star,” the voice said. “Now come inside.”
Tim put his free hand out and pushed on the metal just as another flash of lightning dropped from the sky. And it landed close. He snatched his hand away from the metal and felt the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up. As the thunder chased the lightning and shook the ground, Tim steeled himself and pushed open the gate.
Inside the perimeter of the fence there was a path cut through large pine trees that created a thick canopy to shelter a passer-through from the elements. The brown needles on the ground made an echo-softening bed. He turned and looked back at the gate and the rain coming down. He still had a hand on the gate and without thinking, he tossed it closed. A secure click sounded.
“Now just make your way down the path,” the caller said.
Tim did as he was told and moved away from the gate. When he was about ten feet from it, it clicked again and popped open a few inches.
Tim worked his way down the short path and heard the storm intensifying from outside the canopy. When he got to the end of the path, he saw the storm was in full swing. Lightning streaked the sky and pounded into the ground in the not-too-far distance. Thunder bellowed. Driving rain pelted his face and stung his eyes. Wind swirled around him and chilled his skin and bones.
“Mr. Star? Mr. Star?” the voice said loudly in his ear.
Tim turned from the storm and went back a bit into the path so he could hear.
“Mr. Star?” the voice said. Tim thought he heard real concern.
“I’m here,” Tim said. “Fucking bitch of a morning you picked to have me over.” And Tim couldn’t help himself and started to laugh. He did not like the sound of his muffled laughter but his antagonist also laughed at his comment.
As it often does, laughter turned serious and the caller said, “You saw two buildings. Heather is in the one on the right. Come and get her. Of course, you’ll be soaked through those thin clothes and, by the time you get there, everyone will be able to see what that little bitch did to your cock, but at least you’ll get to save the damsel in distress!”