“Where's the picture? Do you have it?”
“Yeah, it's on my phone.” He pulled out his phone and searched for the picture as Lee hit the brakes and stopped on the side of the road.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You have a picture of the guy?”
Miller handed Lee the phone. “Here it is, but who knows if this even looks like the real guy.”
Lee wrote a text using Miller's phone. “Scott, this is Lee from Miller's phone. Attached is a picture of Mr. Valentine in one of his disguises. I'll hook up with some facial recognition software and see if we can ID this son of a bitch. This is their third get-together. When Miller saw him on the two prior visits, he had a beard and no double chin.” Lee attached the picture and sent the text.
“You think that might do some good?” Miller asked.
“Are you for real? Why did it take you so long to getting around to telling me you had a picture of this guy?” Lee said, sounding annoyed.
“I just didn't think it would help. The guy may not look anything like this.”
“That's possible,” Lee said, deliberately calming himself. “On the other hand, it may be enough to identify him.”
“I guess I should have considered that,” Miller said.
Lee wanted to smack him, but said nothing. What a dipshit.
* * *
June 16, 2016
At 6:30 a.m., Lisa and I sit at the kitchen table drinking coffee and waiting for the kids to emerge for breakfast. The morning we see through the window is a beautiful blue and cloudless.
“Anything more on the Kevin Walters threatening call?” Lisa asks.
“Nothing. The police are set to record on any phone the calls come in on, but there are no more calls. Maybe it was just a prank of some kind.”
She gave me her skeptical look. “Do you think so?” she asks.
“I don't know what to think. Yesterday I get a call from Consolidated's lawyer making a settlement offer and seeking to mediate the case to see if we can get it resolved. I find that hard to square with Consolidated demanding a dismissal without payment as a threat of some kind. And if Consolidated isn't threatening Kevin, then who else has a horse in this race? It's just baffling.”
“I see your point. It is very weird.” She goes quiet a moment and then adds, “Don't forget, tonight is my regional board meeting, so I need to hand off the kids at 5:30 p.m.”
“Got it. I'll meet you here at five thirty and take the kids to dinner. They've been wanting to get Chinese. Katy actually wanted to know if we can buy a whole box of fortune cookies so she can find the fortunes she likes best.”
Lisa laughs. “Sounds right. Good luck with that—she may want you to organize the fortunes alphabetically.”
I kiss Lisa good-bye and take off for what started as a reasonably uneventful day.
* * *
With cops circling all around the Walters residence, Jerry decided to focus on Scott Winslow. If Winslow was convinced to dismiss the case, he could get Walters to go along with it. It was about three thirty when Jerry started toward Scott Winslow's house. Having followed Winslow home a couple of times, he knew exactly where he was going.
Jerry arrived at the Winslow house at about 4:00 p.m. and parked two houses down and across the street. He was still contemplating how he would approach Winslow, but he had concluded that Winslow had to be scared—he had to have a strong motivation to dismiss the case. He pulled a towel up from the floor on the passenger side and placed it on the seat beside him. He unfolded the towel to reveal the small handgun that he had purchased. He had never used a gun, and it made him nervous, but he felt it was the best way to make his point. It looked like the safety was on, so he put the gun back on the towel beside him. He picked up a can of beer and took a deep pull. Nothing to do but wait.
* * *
It was 5:25 p.m. when Lisa pulled into the driveway. “Okay, guys, let's drop your books and grab coats for tonight. Everyone get their homework done?”
“Yes,” Katy said.
“Joey, how about you?”
“Mostly. I have to look over my spelling words one more time for tomorrow's quiz, but it's a no-brainer.”
“It's a no-brainer, huh?”
“Yeah. I been looking at these words for the past two days, and they're not that hard.”
“Dad will be home in about five minutes to take you to dinner. I have to run when he gets home.” She looked at Katy. “Where is your other shoe?”
“I had it a while ago.”
“Where were you just now?”
“In the bathroom.” When the bathroom was found devoid of shoes, Lisa located the missing item on the coffee table.
“Can we turn on the TV for just a little while?” Joey asked.
“No time. We're down to just a few minutes. Grab your coats.”
“Can't we just see a little of The Big Bang Theory?”
“No time. Besides, you guys have seen every episode of that show.”
“But it's good, Mom,” Katy said pleadingly.
“No, can't do it.”
“Where is Dad taking us to dinner?” Joey asked.
“I heard something about Chinese. What do you think?”
“Yeah, awesome,” Joey said.
“I want a whole box of fortune cookies,” Katy said. “So I can pick the best one.”
“That's not how fortunes work, nerd. You don't get to read a bunch and pick one,” Joey responded.
“Why not?”
“You guys stop, okay? Come on, let's go.”
Lisa led the way to the front door. “Dad will be here in just a minute, so let's head outside.”
“She stepped outside, and both kids grudgingly followed. “All right, guys, hop in the car. Katy, buckle yourself in your car seat.”
“I thought we were going with Dad.”
“You are, but we'll just trade cars so we don't have to shift your car seat.”
“I almost don't need it anymore,” Katy said, confidently.
“Yep, you almost don't. Maybe just a couple more months.”
I pull into the driveway next to her Lexus and see Lisa wave to me and smile. The kids are waiting in her car, although Joey is absorbed in something he is holding. Katy waves to me, and I wave back. I walk over to where Lisa waits and kiss her to booing and hissing from within the car. “Gross.” “Yuk.”
We laugh and then turn to see a man standing in the driveway with a gun. He is staring at us silently.
“Instinctively, I put my hands up, palms facing him. Please, point the gun down.”
He is unsteady and shakes violently as he continues to point the gun. He has deep-set, dark eyes, stringy blond hair, and slightly sunken cheeks. He looks almost undernourished, and his expression is intense. I do not recognize him, but I know instinctively that this has to be the guy who threatened Kevin Walters. “We are not moving,” I say. “Please be careful with that, and we will give you whatever you need.”
The guy stares for a time and then says, “You need to dismiss your lawsuit.”
“Okay. What lawsuit?”
“Walters.”
“Okay, why?”
He raises the gun higher. “You don't get to ask why. You just have to do it.”
“Okay, okay. Like I said, you've got the gun, and I will do whatever you want. You want the case dismissed, it happens.”
“Tomorrow. You do it tomorrow.”
“Okay, tomorrow.”
“If you don't, I will find you.” He pauses and then adds, “And your family.”
“I understand.” The guy is shaking so much that I thought the gun might go off accidentally. “Please put the gun down now.”
He seems momentarily satisfied. He lowers the gun slightly, and I am able to breathe. He backs up and then slowly turns to leave, but there is a sudden squeal of brakes, and a car stops in front of the house. Bernie climbs from the car and yells, “What's going on here?”
In an instant, the gun goes off, and Bernie
ducks behind his car. The man panics and scrambles into Lisa's car. I hear her scream, “Oh, my God, no.”
I hear Katy crying as the man finds the keys in the ignition and starts the car. He flies backward out of the driveway, smacking the tail end of Bernie's car as he roars out onto the street. I run down to Bernie's car and climb behind the wheel. He jumps in beside me, and we take off, following the Lexus, which is moving quickly through residential streets. Bernie pulls out his cell phone and calls 911, giving the details of where we are and which way we are heading. He provides the license plate number of the Lexus, and then describes what had happened. He tells them that two children are in the back of the stolen car. His voice breaks as he speaks excitedly.
My whole body is shaking as I focus on the Lexus, trying desperately to keep it in sight. The traffic is getting worse as we reach commercial areas. The Lexus is running red lights as cars honk and brakes scream. I follow through all of it, hoping that we aren't broadsided as we run through intersections at high speeds. We race westbound, the Lexus about five cars ahead of us and changing lanes wildly. Traffic is entering the road we occupy from all intersections, and getting through is getting harder. I am slowly gaining on the Lexus, which is sprinting around traffic, sometimes in the lanes of oncoming traffic. I follow.
The Lexus makes a sharp left and then another. I barely make the second turn, passing another car and moving into oncoming traffic as I do. My body is shaking, my heart is pounding, and I have feelings of fear as I desperately try to keep up. I lose sight of the Lexus for a few moments and then see it again as it surges around another vehicle. The Lexus sprints straight ahead and then makes a sudden right, tires squealing through the turn. I follow, the car fishtailing as I make the turn and then try to correct. The Lexus roars through a red light, narrowly missing being broadsided by a fast-braking garbage truck, which is coming to a stop in front of me. I bear left to go behind the truck, but several other cars are coming right at me, and I cannot find a path. There is nowhere to go. I am trapped, honking and yelling; watching helplessly as the Lexus moves ahead, and slowly out of my view. I work my way past oncoming traffic and then back into my own lane, following the path the Lexus had taken, but the Lexus is no longer in view. My stomach is knotted, and I can feel a rising sense of terror as I think of my kids alone with a crazy person. Bernie and I race ahead, looking left and right at every intersection, speeding recklessly and running red lights. After a couple of miles the reality hits—we have lost them. The Lexus is nowhere to be found. Bernie is on the phone with 911, telling them where we lost the Lexus, where we are now and the route we have covered. We go on as fast as possible, covering ten additional miles, searching for clues in every direction, as the weight begins to settle on us. We stop by the side of the road, having no idea what direction they went, and I begin to weep. My world is in that car, and I have no idea what to do next.
Chapter 25
I sit on the couch next to Lisa, and we clutch hands. Her eyes are red from crying and are filled with pain. Our living room is now a satellite operation for police agencies, and cops are all around us. Detective Landon sits across the coffee table, while the tech team hooks up recording and monitoring equipment. Detective Landon provides recollections about the initial threat to Kevin and Julia Walters to supplement the report that he prepared and that they are reviewing. Two FBI agents, Becky Sandoval and Greg Edmonds, review the notes they have taken.
“How tall?” Sandoval asks me.
“About five feet ten inches, I say.”
“And no other distinguishing features you can think of? No facial hair, moles, scars, anything distinctive?”
“Just those dark eyes. Almost sunken in.” I pause. “A couple of days' growth on the beard, uncombed blond hair. And skinny. They guy was pretty thin.”
Edmonds is now on the phone relaying the description. He adds, “Along with the APB on the car, get a list of all hotels, restaurants, and convenience stores within a twenty-mile radius. Contact them all and have them look out for the Lexus and a guy who meets this description traveling with two kids. Put out the Amber Alert with the car description and license plate.” There is a brief silence and then he says, “One more thing, get the description of this guy to managers at Consolidated, and let's see if anyone knows who he is. That's it for now.” He hangs up and turns to us. “I know how hard this is,” he says, “but we are going to need your help. This guy has an agenda. That agenda is not kidnapping kids, and as far as we know, this guy has no motive to hurt children; they just happened to be in the car he used to get away.” He pauses. “But they are now new leverage to get what he wants. And we know what that is. He wants you to dismiss this lawsuit. So we think that he will likely call you today or tomorrow to talk specifics.”
“And if he doesn't?” I ask. I see the look on his face and wish I could retrieve the question. The impact on Lisa is immediate, so I don't wait for an answer. “Okay, but you need to know that we will give him whatever he wants. You understand that, right?”
Sandoval says, “We get it. We want to make this come out right, so you need to do a couple of things for us. We don't care what you have to promise to give him. We have to keep this guy in play. Ask to speak to the kids, to make sure that they are okay. Then, keep the guy on the line as long as you can. And if there is going to be a drop-off or a meeting, we want it to be in a public place, so we can be there to watch it all without being seen. That okay?”
“Yes,” I say, in a painfully weak voice. “We can do all that.”
“When should we—when would you normally expect a call to occur?” I ask.
“Depends. In a kidnapping for ransom case, we usually expect a call within twenty-four hours, but this is not that case. Our guy didn't go after the kids; he simply took the vehicle they occupied. He may be shaken up and looking for a way out of all this. We will give him any opportunity to return the kids and think he can walk away.”
“What else can we do?” Lisa asks.
“Our people will be looking at employee photos of present and former Consolidated Energy employees tonight and trying identify this guy. We will chase every lead that comes from calls in response to the Amber Alert and the word we put out to all of law enforcement. And we will also get in touch with all of your contacts to see if anyone might know something. We will have teams following every lead.”
“Okay,” Lisa says, “but I mean what else can we do? I mean Scott and me.”
“Keep each other company and try to stay calm to be ready for that call. And we have a sketch artist on the way. You can help him develop a sketch of the guy, okay?” Lisa nods. “Then we'll get that sketch over to Consolidated employees as well to see if it results in any identification. It makes sense that this guy will have something to do with Consolidated. Why else demand dismissal of a lawsuit against them?”
“I feel like I should be out there,” I interject, “beating the bushes and looking for them. Not just sitting here, uselessly worrying. I feel like I am wasting time.”
Sandoval nods. “I understand, but we need you here, looking normal and nonthreatening. For all we know, he could be watching the house to see if the police are here. That's why, in twenty minutes, every visible trace of police presence will be gone, and you two will look to be home alone. We will set up a perimeter to see anyone who is watching the house, but that person will have no idea we've been here.” She pauses and then adds, “I know it's hard to sit here when your kids are out there, but it's what will work best. We have every law enforcement officer in the state as well as federal officers on the lookout.”
“I understand,” I say reluctantly. Then I stand and walk to the window and examine the street out front.
“One more thing,” Sandoval says, looking at me. “Sorry, but I need you to stay away from windows.”
“In case this guy shoots us?” I ask, incredulously.
She shrugs. “We don't know who we are dealing with here or what to expect, but this guy could be
somewhat irrational. We also don't want him to see you and be scared away. If he is watching the house, we want him to think no one sees him. We will have the whole area under a microscope, but he can't see any trace of what we're doing.”
I nod and walk over to Lisa. I have never seen such fear and worry on her face. I take her in my arms and whisper, “This guy is not after the kids. Everything will be okay.” She nods agreeably, but neither of us is convinced.
Twenty-five minutes later, Sandoval says, “Everything is in place, and we are exiting. The phones will record every call, and we will be listening to every call from a few blocks away, okay? We nod, saying nothing. “One more thing. This phone on the end table,” she points, “is connected directly to us. You pick it up, and we answer.”
“Thank you,” Lisa says.
Sandoval gives her a sad smile and then a quick hug. “We are with you.”
With her phone on speaker, Sandoval talks to an unseen observer. “We are ready. Are we clear?”
“Affirmative,” is the audible reply from a male voice. She nods to her team, and they all walk quietly through the back door of the house, leaving hidden technology as the only trace of their visit.
* * *
Jerry was shaking so hard he could barely hold onto the wheel. He looked in his rear view mirror every few seconds. Had he successfully ditched Scott Winslow? To make sure, he spent ten minutes making a random series of rights and lefts. He didn't seem to be following anymore. He tried to calm himself as he considered what he had inadvertently done. He turned into a residential neighborhood and pulled the Lexus over to the curb. He had crossed a line. He had kidnapped the lawyer's two children. Jesus help me, he thought to himself. What do I do now?
The kids were crying in the backseat. Jerry looked at the tearful faces in the mirror. The little girl was openly sobbing, and the boy was pushing tears away and looking at him like he was expecting to be hurt. Jerry's heart began racing as he looked at them. He suddenly felt trapped; like the air around him was getting thicker, and breathing was difficult. Could he just take them home? Drop them off and run? The cops might be there waiting for him. When they caught him, he would go back to jail. This time, forever.
[2017] The Whistleblower Onslaught Page 20