Justice for Hire

by Rayven T. Hill

  THE REAR DOOR of the Cadillac Escalade slid open and David took a step forward. Two men in the rear seat looked his way and smiled.

  “Excuse me.” The nearest man turned in the seat. He was holding a map, poking at it with one finger. “Could you direct me to this street?”

  David took another step, leaned in and looked at the map. The location the man was pointing to was on the other side of the city.

  Suddenly, the map whisked away, the man’s hands shot forward, and David was seized by both arms and pulled off balance. He stumbled once, and before he could react, was dragged into the vehicle and something pulled over his head from behind. It felt like a cloth bag.

  He struggled, his shouts muffled, “What are you doing?” He attempted to scream, but couldn’t. The rear door slammed and he felt the vehicle surge forward.

  He heard a zip as a plastic cable tie tightened about his wrists and held them securely. Strong hands at either side held his arms. He couldn’t move.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  Silence.

  He twisted in the seat and struggled to free his arms. The ties bit into his flesh and held on.

  “Stay still. We’re not going to hurt you.”

  The SUV picked up speed. The tires hummed as it travelled a short distance, and then he heard the click, click of the blinker, the vehicle swerved, and then the engine labored as it accelerated.

  The musty smell of the bag in his nostrils impeded his breathing. He panicked, kicked his feet and continued to struggle.

  Where were they taking him? Who were these guys and what did they want with him?

  “You must stay still.”

  He closed his eyes against the blackness and tried to relax. He was afraid and though he didn’t know how to pray, he did his best. His panic subsided and he sat quietly, confused and bewildered.

  They must have made a mistake. If this was a kidnapping, surely they must be confusing him with someone else. His parents had no money. If they wanted a ransom, he was doomed. He hoped it would be straightened out, but he wasn’t so sure.

  They drove for several minutes, making a variety of turns, speeding up and slowing. Eventually, the vehicle came to a near stop, turned again and he could feel the roughness of the road as the vehicle shook. They may be going into a driveway. A long driveway.

  The Escalade slowed to a crawl, stopped, and the engine died. The doors hummed and he was yanked from the vehicle and dropped onto his feet. His captors continued to grip his arms.

  “Walk,” the same voice said, and he was pushed from behind.

  He almost lost his balance a few times as they prodded him over rough ground. It felt like gravel under his feet.

  A door creaked.

  “Step up.”

  With his feet, he felt his way up three steps, and then stumbled across a hard floor.

  “Sit down,” the voice said, as someone pushed on his shoulders. He dropped into a hard chair.

  The bag was whisked away and, for a moment, he was blinded by overhead lights. He squinted away the glare and peered around. He was in a small room, about the size of his own bedroom. The walls, ceiling, and floor were painted white with no furniture in the room except a small bed against the far wall, the chair he was sitting on, and a toilet with a small sink above.

  There were no windows in the room, but the fluorescent lights embedded in the ceiling lit the chamber with a dazzling glow.

  One of his captors had left the room, the other still in front of him, eyeing him up and down.

  David looked up, and his voice shook as he asked, “What do you want with me?”

  “You’ll be ok. Just relax.”

  “Please, please let me go,” David pleaded, his lip trembling. “What are you going to do?”

  “If you promise to stay still I’ll free your hands.”

  David nodded and didn’t answer.

  The man moved behind the chair. David heard a snap, like the sound of a switchblade popping and the plastic ties sprung loose. He brought his arms forward and massaged his wrists.

  “My parents have no money,” David said. “If you’re hoping for a ransom, there won’t be much.”

  “You’re not here for that reason.” The man’s voice was not unkind, but not pleasant either. “It’ll all be explained to you later.”

  “My parents are expecting me home soon. When will you let me go?”

  No answer.

  The man avoided his eyes as David twisted in the chair and lifted his head. “Please let me go,” he begged.

  “Stand up.”

  David stood obediently.

  “Go and sit on the bed.”

  David turned and trudged across the room to the bed. It was covered by a sheet with a single pillow at the top. He sat on the edge, and watched as the man grabbed the chair and carried it from the room. The door breezed shut, and he heard the metallic sound of a bolt sliding in place, and then all was quiet.

  He stared around the empty room, alone and terrified. Afraid for himself and afraid for his parents. They would undoubtedly be worried. Though he’d skipped school often, and basically done his own thing a lot, he never missed being home for supper. He looked at his watch. At least they hadn’t taken that from him.

  Eventually, he laid on the bed and stared at the stark white ceiling. He wanted to cry but held back. Surely this was all a mistake, and they would let him out of this place soon.

  He felt hopeful, and then hopeless, and angry as he closed his eyes and attempted to pray again. He didn’t know much about God, but he sure hoped He was listening right now.

  Chapter 27

  Thursday, August 25th, 7:30 AM

  DETECTIVE HANK CORNING was being slowly consumed by this case. He’d had a sleepless night, with thoughts of the victims running through his mind.

  He got up early and attempted to keep his emotions in check. He knew letting a case affect him personally was not a good thing for a cop, but he was angry. Angry at himself for not being able to come up with the solution, and angry at the senseless murders afflicting the city.

  He felt numb, and as he took a quick shower and dressed, he ran the circumstances of the last few days through his mind. He thought about the three killers and their three victims. It all seemed so illogical and irrational. The death of another human being always affected him deeply, especially if that death was at the cold-blooded and cold-hearted hands of another.

  He had a breakfast consisting of two pieces of toast with jam, checked his service revolver, grabbed his briefcase, left his humble apartment and headed for the precinct.

  As he weaved his way in and around the morning rush hour traffic he thought about the city he loved so much. He’d lived here all of his life, and it seemed to him things were getting worse. Richmond Hill’s robbery/homicide division had always been small, and mostly he’d investigated robberies, as the few homicides rarely amounted to anything as mind-numbing as murder. The odd suicide, a fatal car accident, but barely a spattering of murder victims as long as he could remember.

  Until recently.

  It seemed like the city was changing. No, the world was changing, and he wasn’t convinced it was for the better.

  Hank pulled into the precinct parking lot, parked his Chevy in its usual spot, climbed wearily from the vehicle and made his way around to the front of the building. As he came through the precinct doors and headed for his desk, he was stopped by Detective Callaway.

  “This came in a couple of hours ago, Hank. I thought you might be interested. Could be related.” Callaway handed Hank a sheet of paper, a police report. “A missing kid. 9-1-1 took the call and reported it.”

  Hank took the paper and glanced at it briefly.

  “I know it hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet,” Callaway said with a shrug. “But still . . .”

  “Thanks, Callaway. I’ll look into it. Right now, anything and everything could be important.”

  Hank turned and browsed the report as he crossed the
precinct floor and sat at his desk. He leaned forward and studied the paper.

  According to the report, a Mr. Haines had called and stated his son didn’t return home from school the day before, and as of 6:00 am this morning, they still hadn’t heard from him.

  The boy was sixteen years old, and though he legally couldn’t be forced to go home at that age, the report said he still lived with his parents and had never missed coming home every day, and he’d never been out all night before without his parents’ knowledge of where he was.

  He pulled his cell phone from its holder and called Jake.

  It rang three times, and then, “Jake here.”

  “Jake, we have a report of a missing boy. I’m going to interview his parents. Do you want to come?”

  “A missing boy?”

  Hank filled Jake in on the details that were in the report. “I can drop by there in a few minutes.”

  “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready,” Jake said.

  “I’ll be there in ten.” Hank turned off his cell phone, tucked it away, snapped open his briefcase and dropped the report inside.

  “I’m going to see the missing boy’s parents,” he called to Callaway as he strode from the precinct.

  ~~*~~

  JAKE SET HIS CELL phone on the kitchen table and looked at Annie. She’d paused her job of washing up the breakfast dishes and had turned to face him, a quizzical look on her face.

  Matty was sitting at the side of the table, his feet pulled up under him, looking at something on the iPad. He seemed to sense something was up and set the tablet on the table and looked at his father.

  Jake glanced at Annie. “There’s a missing boy. Missing since yesterday.”

  Annie dried her hands on a towel, pulled back a chair and sat. She waited for Jake to continue.

  Jake looked at Matty, and then back at Annie. “A sixteen year old boy. He didn’t come home last night. Apparently, something he’s never done before, and his parents are understandably worried.”

  Matty listened with wide eyes as Jake told Annie the details. He finished with, “Hank thinks it may be related. He called to see if I wanted to go with him to interview the boy’s parents.”

  “What do you think happened to him, Dad?”

  Jake turned to Matty. “We don’t know. I hope he’s all right, but the police need to look into it, just in case.”

  Annie looked worried. “I hope he’ll just come home,” she said, and glanced at Matty a moment. “I know how his parents must be feeling.”

  “Perhaps you should come with us?” Jake asked.

  Annie hesitated. “I would, but I don’t want to overwhelm the parents.” She looked at Matty again. “Perhaps I’ll drive Matty and Kyle to school today.”

  Matty shot her a disapproving look. “Aw, Mom, we’re ok. We always walk to school.”

  “Just for now, Matty. Just until . . .”

  Jake interrupted. “Matty, your mother is right. Let her drive you to school for the next few days.” They had drilled into him the importance of being careful, of using common sense, especially around people they didn’t know. He wasn’t as concerned as Annie, but still, you can’t be too careful.

  “All right, Mom.” Matty closed the iPad cover and slid off the chair. “I have to get ready now.” He paused a moment. “I hope the boy’s ok,” he said, as he dashed from the room and headed upstairs.

  Annie watched him leave and sighed. “I’m not being too over-protective, am I?”

  “Not at all. Until this case is cleared up, I think we would be irresponsible not to take extra precaution.”

  Annie nodded and looked thoughtful.

  Jake stood. “And now, I have to get ready. Hank’s on his way.”

  Chapter 28

  Thursday, August 25th, 8:23 AM

  AS HANK PULLED the car to the curb in front of the Haines’ residence, Jake eyed the small house. Located in an older part of the city, it was showing its age and was in need of a few critical repairs. The roof drooped slightly in the middle and the shingles were worn and buckling.

  They climbed from the vehicle and walked up the crumbling concrete walk to the front door. Hank pressed the doorbell and the door was opened a few moments later by a smallish man with lines of worry evident on his face.

  “Are you the police?” he asked. He had a high pitched voice, and as he spoke, he twiddled nervously with his fingers.

  Hank nodded, they introduced themselves, and then were led through the foyer to the front room. Mrs. Haines, a slight woman, sitting in an armchair, watched as they took a seat on the couch. Anxiety showed on her face as she worked her hands in an agitated manner.

  Mr. Haines dropped into a chair beside her, and leaned forward. “Detective, as we told the woman on the phone this morning, David didn’t come home last night, and we’re very worried.”

  Hank slipped a notepad from his inner pocket, produced a pen, and flipped open the pad to an empty page. “We’ll do our best to find your son, Mr. Haines. I’ll need a few details first, such as names, etc.”

  Mr. Haines answered, “My name is Max, and this is my wife, Bev. David is our only child, and it’s not like him to stay out all night. In fact, I don’t believe he ever has before.”

  Hank jotted down the names before asking, “Do you know if he was at school yesterday?”

  “I assume he was, but I can’t be sure. He left here at 8:30 in the morning, as usual, and we haven’t heard from him since. I know he does skip classes from time to time, but as of now, I can’t get any information from the school yet. It’s too early.”

  Hank looked at his watch. “I’ll check on that a little later. What school does he go to?”

  “Richmond Hill High School.”

  Hank scribbled in his notepad. “Does he have a cell phone?”

  Mr. Haines shook his head. “No. That’s not something we could afford to get for him. Money’s a little tight lately.”

  “What about a job? Does he have a part-time job?”

  “No. He spoke often of getting some kind of job after school and on the weekends, but he never did.”

  “And he’s sixteen years old?”

  “Yes. He turned sixteen last month.”

  Mrs. Haines voice was soft as she spoke, “David’s not a bad boy, Detective. He’s rather restless and perhaps naive about life at times, but overall he’s a very good boy.”

  Hank nodded and forced a smile before asking, “Does David have any close friends?”

  Mr. Haines glanced at his wife a moment before replying, “Not that I know of. David’s a bit of a loner, really.”

  Mrs. Haines spoke, “I’m sure he knows some of the other kids at school, but he’s never mentioned anyone in particular.”

  “What about a girlfriend?”

  The woman shook her head, “I don’t believe so. I’m sure he knows some of the girls at school, but there’s no one serious as far as I know.”

  “Would you have a picture of him? Perhaps a school photo, or one that shows his face clearly?”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Haines said, as she rose to her feet. She went to a bookcase on the wall and flipped through a photo album. She returned a few moments later and handed Hank a picture. Jake recognized the style as one of those posed shots with the fake scenery behind. It looked like a school photo. “This is a recent picture,” she said.

  Hank took the photo and examined it briefly. Jake glanced over at David’s cheerful pose, a bit cocky maybe, with a crooked grin splitting his face.

  Hank tucked the picture into his notepad. “We’ll canvass the neighborhood and the area around the school. I’ll talk to the people at the school as soon as possible, and check with anyone who knows him and may have seen him yesterday.”

  Mrs. Haines was on the verge of tears. Her voice quivered as she spoke, “Please find my David, Detective.”

  “We’ll do our best, ma’am.”

  Mr. Haines covered his wife’s hand with his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He turned
back to Hank. “Is there anything we can do?”

  Hank pulled a card from his pocket, leaned forward and handed it to Mr. Haines. “Give me a call if you think of anything else that might help. In the meantime, you can contact anyone who might know David. There’s a possibility someone may have seen him yesterday.”

  Mr. Haines took the card and gave it a glance before tucking it into his shirt pocket. “We’ll call everyone we know.”

  Hank glanced at Jake and nodded. As they stood, Hank said, “We’ll get to work on this right away.”

  Mrs. Haines remained sitting as her husband followed them to the door.

  “I’ll be in touch,” Hank said, as they left the house.

  They made their way back down the path and climbed in Hank’s car.

  Jake buckled his seat belt and glanced at Hank, who was leaning forward, his arms on the steering wheel, as he gazed through the car window toward the house.

  “What do you think?” Jake asked.

  Hank leaned back. “I don’t know,” he said. “I hope David turns up safe, but I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “For starters, I don’t think he wandered off and never told anyone. He doesn’t seem like that kind of kid, from the sense I get about him from his parents, and I don’t think he has it tough at home.”

  Jake nodded. “Yeah, I get the same feeling.”

  “He’s about the same age as the other killers,” Hank added.

  Jake sighed. “I sure hope you’re wrong about what you’re thinking.”

  “So do I,” Hank said, as he put the key in the ignition and brought the engine to life. “I’ll drop you home, and then head out to the school and see if I can find out anything.”

  Chapter 29

  Thursday, August 25th, 8:45 AM

  OLIVER CRAIG PULLED his BMW in front of the building, killed the engine and stepped from the vehicle. He commended himself for his brilliant idea to turn this place into the nerve center of his operation.