Acoustic Shadows

by Patrick Kendrick

  ‘Not anymore,’ said Thiery, and smiled in spite of himself.

  Logan smiled back, then twisted her mouth to one side as she thought of something. ‘You got their name from the rental car company, right?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘So, where is the rental car?’

  ‘I told you, I think Erica Weisz escaped in it last night. I don’t know where she would’ve gone. I’m hoping my boss can get some additional information from his connection with the US Marshal’s Office.’

  ‘You know, some rental car companies maintain GPS monitors on their cars.’

  Thiery turned to her as if she’d goosed him and grinned. ‘Yeah, I’m waiting to hear back from Chief Dunham on that. He was following up on the rental agency. Maybe got side-tracked. I’ll call them.’

  Logan inched over the side of the bed, wearing the white, now wrinkled, button down shirt and nothing else, her libido surging again. ‘I think you’re too tired, baby,’ she said, running her hands up his stomach. ‘And too pent up, poor thing.’

  He smiled looking down at her, extricating her hands from under his shirt. ‘Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, doctor, for the assessment. But, I think I’m okay. Can we get a little police work done?’

  ‘But, you’re relieved of duty. You can’t work— ’

  ‘You can. Let’s go, Agent Logan. If this pans out, I’ll owe you again. Deal?’

  ‘Deal,’ she said eagerly, jumping out of bed. ‘God, you’re easy.’

  Thiery called the rental car company whose information Dunham had sent to him. He identified himself and asked about the car rented by the Lopez brothers. They located the records while Thiery was on hold, listening to a cheesy pop music knock-off tune chosen by some corporate lemming. They confirmed the rental contract.

  ‘Do you happen to keep a location monitoring device on that car, like a Lo-Jack or GPS?’ asked Thiery. ‘In other words, can you find out where that car is currently?’

  ‘We don’t like to reveal that type of information, sir, but I understand this is an on-going police investigation?’

  ‘Yes, that’s correct.’

  ‘That’s fine. We do like to assist our law enforcement agencies when we can. Let’s see, now. I’m currently showing that car at 6000 West Osceola Parkway, in Kissimmee.’

  Thiery jotted it down with Logan looking over his shoulder.

  She nudged him in the ribs. ‘Hey, I know that address. That’s the Gaylord Palms, where I’m staying.’

  Thiery thanked the man at Enterprise and turned to Logan, a quizzical look on his face. ‘So were the Lopez brothers.’

  This time, it was Logan who dropped the playfulness. She finished buttoning up and sliding into her shoulder holster. She took out her gun, a Glock 22, .40 calibre, and checked it out, sliding the clip out then back in, checking the slide before placing it back in its holster.

  ‘Let’s go find your girl, Agent Thiery.’

  ‘Okay, but can we brush our teeth first?’

  ‘I’ve got chewing gum. Let’s go.’

  When they got to Thiery’s car and started to get in, Logan said, ‘No way. This thing smells like an ashtray. Let’s take mine. Follow me, big guy.’

  They walked briskly to a Porsche Cayenne sitting at the edge of the parking lot, away from other cars.

  ‘Nice,’ said Thiery, getting into the car. ‘Another Porsche.’

  ‘Tried to get you to come over to the FBI years ago, Justin. They pay better.’

  She cranked, then over-revved the German motor, grinning, as the tyres barked on the pavement.

  Thiery called Dunham as Logan began making some calls of her own.

  ‘I’ll have to rain check you on that breakfast, Chief,’ said Thiery. ‘We think we found where Erica Weisz might be.’

  ‘Thought you were on admin leave,’ said Dunham.

  ‘I am, but I’m assisting the FBI. They took the lead over for me.’

  ‘I saw that on THN. FBI agents are better looking than I remember them.’

  ‘Yeah, some of them are even women now, Chief.’

  ‘You don’t say. Well, let me know if you need any help.’

  ‘You were already a big help. I called that rental car company you found, and they have GPS locators on all their cars.’

  ‘Cool. They never got back to me. Must’ve been shift change when I talked to them. Hey, wanted to run this by you – I heard Coody, Junior was awake and talking – I thought I’d go see if he has anything to say.’

  ‘Is that going to upset your city manager?’

  ‘Too bad if it does. As first officer on scene, I still have an obligation to complete my report, and I can’t do that without talking to one of the suspects, if we have one. Seems we do.’

  ‘I hope it doesn’t get you into hot water, but I’d like to get a copy of that interview when you’re done.’

  ‘No problem. I’ll record our conversation and send you a copy as soon as I have it transcribed. One last thing. Remember we were wondering why more of the male staff weren’t shot at the school? Well, I was looking through the security videos and found an outside view. It showed three men I’ve identified as Ed Bremen, Tim Cress, and Randy Perry. They all worked there but ran out and hid in a tool shed behind the school when the shooting started.’

  Thiery felt anger bubble up from his stomach, then let it settle. Not all men are meant to be brave. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘At least Jim Swan, the janitor, made a stand.’

  ‘And that teacher. You let me know if you find her. I’d like to talk to her myself some time. Gotta be a story there, right?’

  ‘I’m sure. You got it, Chief Dunham. And thanks again.’

  When he hung up, Logan was wiggling her eyebrows at him. ‘Guess what?’

  ‘You got me. Spill.’

  ‘I asked the young man at the front desk if anyone checked in matching our description of Weisz. He said no one with that name, but this morning a woman came in, seemed pretty strung out, wearing what looked like a handcuff bracelet. Came in saying she lost her purse last night and gave him the name of a guest staying there, so he gave her a room key.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And the guest was Alejandro Lopez. The guy you put down last night.’

  ‘This just keeps getting weirder. What do you think about getting the Orlando PD over there?’

  Logan scrunched up her brow while she chewed the inside of her cheek. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘This woman seems pretty gun shy. If she saw black and whites rolling in, she might be out the back door and gone again.’ She looked at her wristwatch. ‘I can get us there in twenty minutes. Trust me?’

  Thiery squinted at her. ‘No … but that’s one of the things I like about you.’

  Logan reached over and squeezed Thiery’s thigh, then let her hand drop to the Cayenne’s shifter and slammed the car into passing gear. It was early morning, the traffic light, and Logan dodged around the few cars on the road like a NASCAR driver.

  Thiery’s phone rang. He looked at the number calling, but did not recognize it. He picked it up and said, ‘Hello?’

  The caller was silent for a moment.

  Thiery repeated, ‘Hello?’

  ‘Agent Thiery?’ asked a female voice.

  A chill went down Thiery’s back and he sat up, his stomach, suddenly, inexplicably knotting up. ‘Yes, this is Justin Thiery, with the FDLE.’ He looked at Logan and she knew.

  ‘Huh, hello. This is Erica Weisz. I think you’ve been looking for me … ’

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Dunham greeted the Calusa County deputy guarding the entrance to Coody’s room. He told the deputy who he was and what business he had there.

  ‘Trying to wrap up my end of this thing. Got it covered if you want to grab some coffee.’

  The deputy allowed him into the room.

  It was dark, other than a blue glow from a silent television in the room. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Dunham saw Coody lying there, staring at him. It made him un
easy, but he tried to remain professional as he approached him.

  Coody’s face was swollen, his bright red hair combed back from his scalp giving him the appearance of an overripe tomato ready to burst. Some flowers were next to him on the nightstand and Dunham wondered who would be so concerned with a man who had gone into an elementary school with a cadre of guns and the intent to kill as many people as possible.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Coody,’ said Dunham, removing his flat-brimmed hat. ‘I’m Chief Dunham from the Sebring Police Department. Has anyone read you your rights?’

  ‘You mean Miranda rights?’ his eyes darting toward Dunham. ‘Am I being arrested?’

  ‘Yes, to both questions.’

  ‘No.’

  Dunham put a small digital recorder on the nightstand near Coody and turned it on. Just to be on the safe side. He read him his rights before he began the interview, then opened with, ‘I’d like to ask you some questions about your involvement at the Travis Hanks Elementary School.’

  ‘My involvement?’ Coody said, his voice harsh, his face reddening with the exertion of talking. ‘I wasn’t just involved. It was my plan.’

  ‘So, you are admitting that you did, wilfully, gain access to the school and premeditatedly shot innocent people?’

  ‘Innocent? I don’t think so, but yes, I planned the event.’

  ‘The event?’

  ‘Yes, that’s how we talked about it when we discussed it.’

  ‘You and Frank Shadtz?’

  ‘Yeah. But, Frank was just a mule, really. He brought the guns in.’

  ‘I see,’ said Dunham, surprised at the young man’s willingness to talk so openly. He leaned over and pulled a cord to crack open the blinds. Slats of lights striped Coody’s face and caused him to blink.

  ‘Is this the part in the movies where the cop shines the light in the guy’s face to make him talk?’ Coody grinned, showing his yellow teeth. His sour breath created a fetid cloud around his head.

  Dunham resisted the urge to spit in his face. ‘Were there any other people involved with the event?’ he asked.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Coody, coyly. ‘Some people I talked with online in chat rooms. People that encouraged me to act on my beliefs. You won’t find them, but believe me, there are a lot of people who think like I do, who applaud what I did. I’m not alone.’

  Dunham heard the grandiosity that Coody was trying to lend his cowardly act and something occurred to him. ‘Do you take any medicines for your condition?’

  ‘What condition?’ Coody asked incredulously. ‘Fuck you, pig. You can’t ask me about my medical background.’

  ‘I can if it helped influence your crime. Hey, by the way, no one has called me a pig since I was handing out speeding tickets almost ten years ago. Thanks for the nostalgia.’

  Coody said nothing.

  Dunham stepped closer, trying not to inhale Coody’s odour. He looked at the tubes going in and out of his body, so much effort to keep him alive. The bed tipped side to side, one way, then the other, to keep his blood from coagulating, Dunham assumed. What a waste of a human being, he thought, then asked the question everyone wanted to ask.

  ‘Why did you do it?’

  Coody blinked his eyes, his anger seeming to fade as he reflected.

  ‘I … It’s like, one day you think about it. Another day, you are buying some ammo, or a new gun, and you think about it again. Then you start to think about it every day. Like a kid wishing for Christmas to come. Video games don’t do it for you, anymore. Neither does shooting the neighbourhood dogs and cats. You drive by the school and watch these entitled kids with their shitty parents who spoil them and treat them like they’re something so, so special. And the dumb-ass teachers who drag themselves into their boring jobs and try to act like they care about these little fuckers. It’s all just one big fantasy land. People who really don’t like each other, acting like they do. I can’t stand the pseudo caring, the fake people who go through life acting as if they are living it, when they are all really dead already.’

  Now Dunham was really creeped out. He didn’t know what else to say or ask. What do you say to someone who is so insane, anything they tell you will just be a crazy diatribe that makes sense solely to them? He wasn’t a cruel man, but he felt his anger rising like a festering boil, so fevered it could lance itself. He cleared his throat. ‘I bet your daddy bought you your first gun, right?’ he asked, his tone bitter.

  Coody’s eyes darted to the Police Chief’s face. ‘Yeah, he did. Gave me a Colt .45 western revolver when I was fourteen. We used to hunt together all the time. My stupid fucking mother didn’t like it. Hated guns. She was a whore. She left him for another guy, and my dad suffered for it. But, she got what was coming to her, too.’

  Dunham nodded his head, his jaw muscles flexing. He used to hunt with his father, too. The commonalities with this sick kid ended there. I’d like to take this bastard out of his misery, he thought. Put his pistol against the fucker’s head and save the taxpayers the hundreds of thousands of dollars it would take to convict, then house, a homicidal quadriplegic. Instead, he reached over and turned off his recorder, and said:

  ‘Your father was shot last night when he tried to hunt down the woman who shot you. He’s lying over at the county coroner’s with a tag on his toe, along with that same stupid look you have on your face right now.’ He leaned over, closer, and whispered, ‘For every person you killed at that school, I hope they come back as an itch on your head. You think about that when you get one and wonder how you’re going to scratch it while you’re lying there like a carrot with your arms hanging by your sides like limp dicks.’

  Coody’s eyes were wild with fright and frustration as Dunham turned and strode out of the room, resisting the urge to slam the door behind him.

  Julio Esperanza’s phone rang and, distracted by the view out his penthouse window, he picked it up without looking at it. He regretted that for the rest of the day. It was his father.

  ‘Could you fuck this up any more than you already have?’ asked Emilio.

  ‘Papi—’ Julio tried.

  ‘Shut up. Just tell me you have the woman and the problem is taken care of.’

  ‘We are getting close.’

  ‘I’m coming down there.’

  ‘But, you are sick,’ Julio argued. ‘The trip will be rough on you, and you know the kind of trouble you could get into.’

  ‘I don’t care. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to kill that woman. I might kill you too, you useless maricon.’

  Julio’s lip curled in anger as he tried to think what he wanted to say to his father, the man he had loved, hated, emulated, and feared his whole life. There was a knock on his hotel room door. He lowered the hand that held his cell, without breaking the connection. Julio went to the door and opened it. It was Moral. He was panting as if he’d run several miles, red-faced, his grey streaked hair stuck to his sticky pate. A dollop of sweat rolled off his nose.

  ‘She … she’s here,’ he managed.

  Julio frowned at him. ‘Who?’

  ‘The woman. Erica, or Millie, whatever you want to call her. The Adkins woman. I just saw her in the lobby.’

  Julio slowly brought the phone to his face. ‘Papa? Did you hear that?’

  ‘Yes. Who was that?’

  ‘Moral.’

  ‘Ok,’ he said, his icy voice coming through clinched teeth. ‘Try not to fuck this up. You get that woman. You hold onto her. I’m going to come there and personally kill her and that fuck-up, Moral. I’m bringing El Monstruo. Do you understand?’

  For a moment Julio thought he might faint. Since the day El Monstruo had used his chainsaw on the men he had been forced to behead, Julio had feared him. El Monstruo knew it and so did Emilio. Even his father did not frighten him as much as this hulking man with ice for blood.

  ‘Ye … yes, Papa. Whatever you say.’ He hung up the phone and turned to Moral. ‘Are you positive it was the woman?’

  ‘Of course,
’ said Moral. ‘She’s dyed her hair blonde, but it was her.’

  ‘Why would she come here, to this hotel?’

  Moral frowned at Julio. ‘I … well, I have no idea. The local law enforcement’s put out an APB on her. Said she was driving a stolen rental the Lopez’s were using. Maybe she used it to find her way here. I dunno. Was that your father on the phone?’

  Julio stared at Moral, his face still flushed from the heated conversation with his father. His eyes shone wet, like a child who has been scolded.

  ‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘He’s coming here unless we kill the woman first. He’s bringing … a man. One who has lived in my nightmares … forever. He’s not a man you’d want to meet.’

  Moral felt panic creeping up his spine like some parasite that had found itself into his body and was eating its way toward his heart. ‘That’s not a good idea,’ he pleaded. ‘There’s too much media attention now, too much at stake. He’ll stand out here like fucking Madonna. If he’s seen at all, the least he’ll get is violation of probation. They’ll lock him up until his trial. You have to stop him.’

  Esperanza shook his head. ‘I cannot tell my father what to do. The only way I can stop him, stop them, is if we kill the woman now.’

  Moral swallowed, his Adam’s apple riding up his long neck like a bubble rising through a viscous fluid. He knew if Emilio Esperanza came there, it would mean they had not completed the task he had given them and that would mean he had been worthless to them. If you were worthless to Emilio, you were already dead.

  ‘Then, let’s do it. Once and for all, let’s kill this bitch.’

  Moral’s tone gave Julio some slight comfort. Perhaps he was right. Maybe he could get this thing turned around. Maybe he could make his father proud of him, perhaps for the first time. Maybe, he could even save himself, because he was sure, if his father did come to Florida, he would kill him, too.

  He called Davies.