Purgatory (Jon Stanton Mysteries Book 11)

by Victor Methos

  “You, too.”

  Stanton watched her run down the beach and into the arms of her husband. They kissed, and he playfully splashed some water on her, causing her to squeal before trying to get him back. It made Stanton smile. Then the smile went away when he realized he couldn’t do that. Even the simple pleasure of spending time with the woman he loved seemed a burden. He tried to think of one thing in his life right now that brought him joy, and he couldn’t… except the time he had spent with Dane.

  He couldn’t wait anymore. It was getting dangerous. Stanton felt himself drawn to Dane in a way that would suck him in, make lines and loyalties blur. It was now or never.

  He was going to call it in and arrest Dane.

  53

  Stanton sat in Captain Kai’s office, Laka next to him. He had just told them everything: the undercover work, the surfing, the jump off the building. Kai looked like he might faint. He sat still a long time, his massive girth inhaling and exhaling loudly.

  “So,” he said, “I mean… you… I mean there was…”

  “I know, it’s not aboveboard, and if you want to report me to IA, I completely understand. But I saw those masks in his jeep, Joan Wells will give a statement about Dane and Thomas’ relationship, and I bet if we had a warrant for that church we would find something. Lime, or liquid nitrogen, maybe a trophy from the killings or the weapons that were used to beat them.”

  Kai rubbed his head. “A good defense attorney might be able to get all this thrown out.”

  Stanton shook his head. “I didn’t take the masks, and we can just find them as part of the search. There’s a lot of evidence there I didn’t touch. Even if some of it gets tossed, there’ll be more. And I bet someone at the church will flip. Somebody there knows something.”

  Kai exhaled and looked at his niece. “What you think?”

  Laka glanced at Stanton. “I think I would’ve liked my partner to let me in on what he was doing, but apparently he didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

  “That’s not it,” Stanton said. “I trust you completely. You and Julie might be the only people in my life I trust completely. I didn’t want you involved in this. I knew it could come back to haunt me, and I didn’t want it to happen to you. IA might suspend me over this, maybe even take my shield. I couldn’t let that happen to you.”

  “And I wouldn’t have let you do this shit in the first place. You did it alone because you knew I would stop you.” She sighed and looked at Kai. “Do it. We don’t have shit now, anyway. Let’s see if something shakes out.”

  Kai nodded. “Okay, okay, but you stay the hell away from this case, Jon. I mean it. You’re done with it.”

  “Fine. I’ll file my reports and give a statement to IA, and then I’m going to need an extended leave.”

  Stanton waited anxiously at home. He sat with Hanny on the couch, pulling on a chew toy while the dog growled and tried to steal it away, the television on to provide some background noise. All Stanton could focus on was a picture in his head of Dane in handcuffs, being hauled into the station. It was right and just, but it didn’t sit well with him. Dane had touched something inside of him that even he didn’t see. Maybe IA taking his shield wouldn’t be the worst thing.

  The text came from Laka. They had Dane and Mackie in custody.

  Stanton chewed on his lower lip. He’d only been ordered not to work on the case. Didn’t mean he couldn’t watch it as a spectator. He kissed Hanny on the head and shouted to Julie that he would be back for dinner. She shouted back, “Okay” from upstairs, and he bolted out of the house before she asked any questions.

  The station was buzzing. The murders hadn’t gotten any press, not yet, but the rumors had spread throughout the PD. Stanton went to the interview rooms and glanced into each one. In interview room 4, Mackie sat with his arms folded, his eyes drooping, falling asleep. In room 3, Dane lay on the table, his hands on his chest, fingers intertwined in some meditative posture.

  Two other detectives, Ario and Daniel, were grilling him.

  “We found the masks, you piece’a shit,” Ario said. “You’re done. Life in prison without the possibility of parole. Know what that means to a good-lookin’ guy like you? Danny, don’t you think he’s good lookin’?”

  “Oh, the Aryans are gonna love him. Maybe they’ll even pass him around to the blacks and Islanders for payment. Your asshole’s gonna be the size of a soccer ball by the time they done with it.”

  “But there might be a way out,” Ario said. “Give it up. We’re here to help, and the prosecutors listen to us. They value our input. So if we tell them, hey, this guy cooperated, that’s going to go a long way. Maybe cut your sentence in half. You’re young, you get out in your forties or fifties and you can still make a life.”

  Dane kept his eyes on the ceiling, refusing to respond. He seemed…serene.

  “The shit, isn’t it?” Laka said, coming next to Stanton. “They been at it an hour. He hasn’t said a word. They said he came quietly, just smiled when he saw the officers with their firearms out, and lay down.”

  “They executing the warrant?”

  “Yeah, haven’t found shit yet. The church might be clean.”

  “Then he’s keeping everything somewhere else. We need to go through his finances and interview everyone in his life. He might be stashing it in someone’s basement or a storage locker or something.”

  Laka looked at him. “You need to go home to that pretty fiancée of yours. We got this.”

  “I… um…”

  “I know. But you need to go home.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Please.”

  Stanton took one last look at Dane and left.

  54

  Stanton went home and told Julie that he was done and they could leave.

  “I don’t want to wait,” he said. “Let’s just take some bags and leave now. I don’t care where. The first flight they have available.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, and Stanton saw her eyes wet with tears. They held each other awhile, her head resting on his chest, and he knew she was listening to his heartbeat. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and then let go.

  “I’ll take Hanny to the daycare,” he said.

  “Hurry back. Do you want me to pack for you?”

  “Sure.”

  They kissed again, and he leashed his dog and got into his jeep.

  The daycare was one of those upscale places that had twenty-four-hour access through video monitoring. Hanny had always loved it there: several hours a day, they took the dogs out with each other to play, fed them the fanciest food with fresh meat as a topping. If Hanny hadn’t enjoyed it so much, Stanton would’ve found a way to take him with them out of the country.

  As he was driving, his sunglasses covering his eyes, for the first time he could remember, a feeling of lightness came over him. A grey weight was lifting off of him, and he kicked himself for not making the decision to leave sooner.

  His phone rang. It was Laka.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Um, we got kind of a situation over here.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Dane finally talked.”

  Stanton’s heart dropped. “What’d he say?”

  “He said he would talk, but only to you. No one else. They grilled him about it for a while, but he’s comatose again.”

  Stanton tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “You guys were the ones that kept telling me to leave.”

  “I know, and I’m so sorry to have to ask this, but they haven’t found anything at the church. Not one thing. We need him to talk.”

  He looked at Hanny, secured in a crate in the back. “Okay. Give me thirty.”

  Stanton dropped Hanny off, and the dog couldn’t have been happier. He ran to the caretaker and jumped on her as several of the staff gathered around him. He was one of the most beautiful pit bulls Stanton had ever seen.

  “How long will you be gone for?” she asked.

&nb
sp; “Not sure. We’ll call and let you guys know once we get where we’re going.”

  “Take your time. We love Hanny.”

  Stanton watched his dog for a bit and then left.

  When he got to the station, Laka was waiting for him near the interview rooms.

  “Has he said anything else?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. The other one, Mackie, he just cusses out the detectives that go in there. Getting nothing from him either.”

  Stanton walked by room 4 and heard Mackie say, “The only time I have a mask is when I make your mother wear one when I’m fucking her.”

  Dane was in the same position as before, laid out on the table. Stanton hesitated but then opened the door.

  55

  Dane turned his head slowly and smiled. Stanton looked at the detectives and said, “I got it from here.”

  They left without saying anything, though giving Dane glances that told Stanton if he weren’t in the room things might have turned physical. When they had left, Stanton poked his head out and told Laka, “Make sure no one’s watching or listening through the glass.”

  “You got it.”

  Stanton shut the door behind him, went to the camera in the corner of the room, reached up and pulled the cord, shutting the power off. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Dane looked up at the ceiling, staring directly into the light hanging down.

  “Do you feel it?” Dane asked.

  “What?”

  “That buzz when one of us walks into a room with the other. We’re connected, man. Our hearts beat at the same rhythm. We’re brothers.”

  Stanton didn’t respond. He watched as Dane ran his fingers over his chest, stopping at his heart and closing his eyes.

  “How’d you know I was a cop?” Stanton said.

  “I knew the second I saw you,” he said, keeping his eyes closed.

  “Then why take me in?”

  “Because you’re sick, and I knew I could help you.”

  “That’s not true. You just thought it was fun. A thrill.”

  Dane looked at him. “You don’t believe that for a second. Be honest.”

  Stanton looked down at the floor. His back and shoulders felt like they were on fire: a combination of being unable to heal when he slept and lack of nutrition. “No, I don’t.”

  Dane smiled. “We could’ve been real brothers in another life, Jon. Close. Always have each other’s back. If you would break free from this ridiculous morality that’s been shoved down your throat, we still could be. Follow God; you don’t need men to tell you what God thinks. You ask Him.”

  “You asked and God told you to kill people?”

  “We talked about Sodom and Gomorrah once. How many people did God kill there? Do you think He enjoyed it? The killing?”

  “No.”

  Dane nodded. “I don’t enjoy what I do. I hate it. But it has to be done.” He inhaled deeply. “My parents were killed. Right in front of me. The men that did it saw a scared child… and they laughed. They laughed that I had to stand over the dead bodies of my mother and father.” He swallowed, his face taking on a solemn expression. “Then they threw me some towels and told me to clean up the blood.” He looked at Stanton again. “I had to clean up the blood from my parents’ cold bodies.”

  Stanton was speechless. He could tell immediately that Dane was telling the truth. All he could say was, “I’m sorry.”

  “Do you know, when I was a teenager, I contemplated killing myself. I stood on the edge of a cliff barefoot, staring down at the rocks below, my toes hanging over the edge… and then God spoke to me.”

  Stanton was quiet for a moment. “What did He say?”

  Dane looked back into the light. “He told me that I had a mission and my death wouldn’t serve it. The first thing I had to do was serve justice on the men who killed my parents.” He turned his head slowly, a grin on his face. “I cut their heads off like they were livestock, and I knew what I had to do from then on, what God had planned for me. It was to serve His will in a way no one else would, or maybe could.”

  “Not like that, Dane. Those men deserved death, but it wasn’t yours to hand out.”

  He chuckled. “Whose was it then? The government? Where was the government when my parents were killed? These guys got away with it because a ten-year-old boy couldn’t give proper testimony because he was too frightened. That’s not justice. What I did was justice. The universe balanced. If you ever recognize that, you’ll be one of God’s chosen, too.”

  Stanton’s phone buzzed. He took it out and saw a text from Julie.

  All it said was, Sorry.

  “I am, you know,” Dane said.

  “You are what?”

  “Sorry.”

  Stanton was silent a moment before it dawned on him. “What did you do, Dane?”

  Dane swung his legs over the table and sat on the edge. “I’m sorry, man. I really am. I love you like a brother, and it hurt to have to do it.”

  Stanton stood up in a flash and grabbed him by his collar. He swung him down onto the floor and had his elbow in his throat, pressing down on his windpipe.

  “If you hurt her—”

  “She’s safe,” he said, the air being squeezed out of him. “Lemme talk, man. Lemme talk, or you won’t see her again.”

  Stanton hesitated, pressing harder against his throat, and then let up. “So talk.”

  Dane sat up and chuckled. “You are an aggressive son of a bitch when you’re provoked, aren’t you? I bet you got a tiger caged up in that body’a yours.”

  “Where is she, Dane?”

  “Bobby has her. He’s a brother, too. I told him not to harm a hair on her head… yet.”

  “Yet?”

  “I mean, I told him not to hurt her… for twenty-four hours. For twenty-four hours she’s safe, and then Bobby’s going to stick a hunting knife into her spine, paralyzing her, and then thrust that knife into her heart. It’ll be quick, man. I can promise you. She won’t feel any pain.”

  Stanton stared at him for a long time. “She’s not a monster. She doesn’t fit your pattern.”

  “She’s a tool used in the pursuit of God’s glory. She’s fair game.” He stood up and sat on the edge of the table. “I’m sorry, compadre, I really am. I hate seeing you in pain. But, you gotta trust me and trust God that this is for your own good. I’m gonna be in this cage for twenty-four hours, ’cause I know you gotta make it look like you grilled me before releasing me. But I’m not staying here the seventy-two hours you can hold me, and you guys sure as shit aren’t filing charges against me. You got twenty-four hours to do it alone, and then you’re gonna get me outta here, or else she’s gonna die.”

  Stanton wanted to lash out, to break his nose, to toss him into the wall or through the window, but all he could do was curl his fists up and say, “If I find her first, you’re gonna rot in a cell.”

  He grinned. “Ain’t no way you’re gonna find her, brother.”

  56

  Stanton stepped out of the interview room.

  He motioned for Laka to come over. “One of his church members has Julie.”

  “What? Fuck that. How the hell did he even know who you were?”

  “I don’t know. He says he knew I was a cop the second he saw me. I had my badge that first time, maybe he got a glimpse of it. We went surfing, and I left my stuff on the beach. Someone must’ve gone through my wallet to get my last name and address.”

  “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” She sighed. “We gotta tell Kai and get—”

  “No, he said only me. If they find out other cops are involved, they’ll kill her.”

  “Do you even know where to look for her?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me anything.” He ran his hand through his hair, exhaling. “He wants us to keep him for twenty-four hours, just for appearances’ sake, and then cut him loose. I don’t want to ask this of you…”

  “You don’t need to. I’ll make sure he’s cut loose.”

  “They’
ll give you grief for it because they’ll want to hold them the full seventy-two.”

  “I’m the captain’s niece. They’ll do what I say. But what’re you going to do?”

  “I need to find her.”

  Stanton sprinted back to his house. He ran inside. The door was locked, undamaged. As he ran through the living room to check upstairs, he saw the broken glass.

  The sliding glass door in the kitchen had been shattered. Someone must’ve waited for him to leave the house. He ran upstairs and checked every room. His bedroom was messy: the dresser drawer dumped over onto the floor. Julie had struggled. He tried her cell phone, just in case, but it went to voicemail.

  Stanton went downstairs and checked the rest of the house. Empty. He went out onto the beach to see if there were footprints or anything that indicated they had come through there. But there was nothing he could see. He assumed they’d taken her back out through the sliding glass door. Whoever took her wouldn’t have dragged her down the beach in front of everybody: they had to have a car waiting in the back. He took a few steps out and saw the tire marks. It was a long shot, but he took photos and forwarded them to Lorenzo, asking him to see if he could identify the make of the tire. Stanton didn’t know what exactly that would do, but he had to do something. Had to have some forward motion.

  He stared down the beach, wondering if anyone saw anything, but the beach was sparsely populated. Stanton had nothing else to do but lean against his patio table and watch the waves, his mind racing.

  After a few minutes, he went upstairs and ran a full background check on Dane. Nothing came up again, but he printed off the previous addresses listed anyway. They weren’t in residential areas, but there was a possibility some abandoned warehouse was on there and he might’ve stashed her inside, though Stanton knew Dane wouldn’t make it that easy for him.

  When he thought of a warehouse, the image of Thomas Wells came to him, bloated and skinless, floating in a tub of ooze. He saw Julie in that same tub, and the shock went through him, made him quake with rage and disgust. He rubbed his head, a flash of pain so powerful going through him that it nearly made his knees buckle. Covering his eyes with his hands, he lay down on the bed.