Tough Justice: Countdown Box Set

by Carla Cassidy

  The most likely to fool you completely.

  Maybe Brenda had no idea what her son was capable of. “But Mitchell does live with you, right?”

  Brenda glanced at the ground before quickly looking back at her house. Typically a nonverbal gesture suggested she was hiding something.

  Maybe Brenda was also someone who could fool you.

  “Brenda?”

  “Yes, he lives here. But he comes and goes as he pleases. I work nights and sleep days so I don’t see him very often.” She glanced down again.

  Was something about her job what she was hiding? Was she embarrassed that she did janitorial work?

  “I see. But you’re sure he’s not in his room now, right Brenda? You wouldn’t want Mitchell to get hurt because we don’t know he’s there.”

  The older woman stiffened. “He’s not there, okay? I haven’t seen him for a few days. His door is always closed so I didn’t realize it at first. But he hasn’t been home in a while.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “No. He doesn’t tell me much.”

  She looked Lara right in the eye as she said it, not glancing away or showing other nonverbal tells that suggested deceit. Brenda may not be happy about the fact that her son didn’t share much about his life with her, but she was telling the truth.

  Lara didn’t want to mention that Mitchell was their suspected bomber. That line of questioning would be better suited for when they had her in a more isolated area with someone like Dr. Oliviero who could take his time questioning her, looking for nuances in her expression and nonverbal communication.

  Not in the middle of a crowded neighborhood—where neighbors were coming out to see what in the world was going on—and Brenda had gone back to screaming that she didn’t want her walls or carpet damaged by some Cyclops.

  Lara was pretty certain the woman meant cyborg, which still wasn’t correct, but was at least closer. Lara didn’t say anything.

  Nick joined them. “Bomb unit says the room is clear. No traces of explosives or denotation devices.”

  Lara took a step back and gestured for one of the uniforms to come over. She tried not to smile at the man’s grimace at the knowledge that he’d have to babysit again.

  “This officer will stay with you while we go inside, Mrs. Halpert. If you think of where your son might be, please notify us immediately.”

  “Do I have to stay out here on my lawn? All my neighbors are looking at the commotion.”

  “No, you’re welcome to come inside. Officer—” Lara glanced at the man, one eyebrow raised.

  “Fretwell,” he supplied.

  “Officer Fretwell will come with you inside if you want to do that,” Lara continued, feeling her temper beginning to simmer. “We just ask that you stay out of way.”

  The woman didn’t like that, but Lara didn’t wait around to pander to her any longer. Lara slapped Officer Fretwell on the back as she walked by, rolling her eyes.

  “Good luck,” she muttered.

  The team convened in the house and began working their way back toward Mitchell’s room.

  Lara and Nick could now see what was behind door number three.

  Without even saying anything to each other they both drew their weapons before opening the door. Just because the room wasn’t going to blow to kingdom come didn’t mean there wasn’t going to be any danger.

  Nick glanced at her, hand on the doorknob. “Ready?”

  She nodded.

  He threw the door open and they both stepped in, weapons raised.

  And were met by the most boring room in the history of the world.

  Nick checked in the closet and Lara looked under the bed to make sure no one was hiding and hoping for the best. Then they reholstered their weapons.

  And just looked around.

  The room looked like something out of a small liberal arts college’s brochure for a dorm. A neatly made bed in the corner with a dark blue comforter and sheets and pillow cases in a matching lighter blue.

  On the wall was a poster of Kate Upton in a bikini sandwiched by two larger posters of constellations. A globe sat on the desk in the corner, above which were shelves containing CDs, books and a few computer magazines.

  “Not what I was expecting,” Nick muttered.

  “Me either.” Lara’s lips pinched together. “This can’t be right, Nick. Guy responsible for killing over a hundred people and blackmailing some of the smartest and most savvy people in the city lives with his mom? In the most innocuous-looking bedroom that has ever existed?”

  Nick shrugged. “I agree. Either this isn’t our guy or he isn’t here very often.”

  “Ben Johnson was sure that picture of Mitchell Halpert was the man who kidnapped him.”

  “Then maybe he doesn’t live here anymore. Or has another place. Or has left town completely.” Nick wiped a hand over his face. “What was your take on the mom?”

  “Something’s off about her a little, definitely. Something she’s not sharing. I didn’t tell her that Mitchell was the suspected bomber. Didn’t seem like the right place with all the neighbors watching her scream at the Cyclops.”

  Nick swallowed a small chuckle. “Do you think that was an act?”

  “Honestly? No. I think she’s hiding something, but I’m not sure it has to do with Mitchell. But it could.”

  All trace of humor was gone from Nick’s face now. “Let’s go inform Brenda that her son is wanted for questioning in the bombing death of over one hundred people. See if that helps her to remember anything.”

  Chapter Three

  Telling a mother that her child was a suspected murderer was never easy. Brenda Halpert didn’t take the news any better than any other mother would’ve.

  She stood up so rapidly from the kitchen table that her chair skidded back across the floor. Nick and Lara just kept still from where they sat across from her.

  “No. Mitchell is a good person. He wouldn’t have done that. Not my Mitchell.”

  Lara felt sorry for the woman. Finding out someone you loved had an evil core inside him wasn’t easy.

  Lara should know.

  Brenda wanted to hang on to the illusions she’d lived with for so long. She might not ever be able to see her son as guilty. She might always find one excuse or another for whatever horrible thing he did.

  Lara had been tempted to walk that path with Moretti, just for the briefest of moments when she found out who he really was. To excuse his actions because of her own personal feelings.

  But only for a brief moment. Then she’d done what had to be done. Arrested the man she’d fallen in love with.

  But Brenda’s situation was different. Mitchell was her son. The bond was too tight for her to see the evil that was right in front of her.

  “How often is Mitchell here, Brenda?” Nick asked from his seat beside Lara. “Does he have another place?”

  “Whether he’s guilty or innocent, we need to find him before more people get hurt,” Lara continued.

  Brenda walked over and got a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. “He lives here with me. Takes classes at the local community college, but lives here. Like I said, I work nights, so I don’t see him a lot, but he lives here.”

  “And when did you see him last?” Lara asked.

  “Three days ago. But he might have been here while I was working. Sometimes we go a few days without talking to each other. And he likes to hike and camp so sometimes he does that and I don’t see him.”

  “What’s his major at the college?” They would need to interview anyone who knew him there. Friends. Professors of classes he’d taken.

  “Computer science. But he’s, um, undecided in what he wants to do.” For the first time Brenda did that little shift in her eyes
as she answered.

  Nick noticed it, too, and glanced over at Lara. Why would Brenda be hiding something about Mitchell’s college courses?

  Nick leaned a little closer to Brenda. “Does your son have friends? People he hangs out with?”

  “Nobody that has ever come here that I know of. But like I said, maybe when I’m not home.” But her expression suggested that she didn’t think it was likely.

  A loner. Not surprising in a bomber. And perfectly fitting Oliviero’s profile.

  “What kind of car does your son drive?” Nick asked, notebook out in front of him.

  “An old Honda Civic. I’ll see if I’ve got his license plate written down anywhere.”

  Brenda wandered off toward the room with all the boxes, still looking pretty shaky.

  “She’s going to need some good luck to find anything in that room,” James said. “I looked through some of the boxes. Couldn’t find any sort of organizational pattern for all the papers and stuff in there.”

  “Is there any sign of Mitchell Halpert in this house at all?” Nick brows knitted together.

  “Yeah. There’s clothes that definitely aren’t the mom’s in the laundry. Jeans and T-shirts. And I’m sure his fingerprints are all over everything. Nothing has been wiped down. Definitely not trying to cover his tracks.”

  Lara looked at Nick then James. “Maybe the best thing we could do would be to get out of here. Put a surveillance team on the house and hope he comes back.”

  Nick shook his head. “He’s got to know that Ben Johnson made it out alive by now.”

  “And would know Johnson could identify him,” James continued.

  They were right. Mitchell Halpert would be a fool to come back here now. And just about the only thing Lara knew about Halpert was that he was no fool.

  “Okay. Then have someone tail the mom? No doubt Brenda is going to want to see her baby boy sooner rather than later.”

  Nick nodded. “I think that has a better chance of success. I’ll call it in.”

  Lara stood. “I want to go have a better look at Mitchell’s room. If he really does live here, there’s got to be something in that place that will give us more of a clue about him. His music collection, books, something. Hell, even Kate Upton might give us a clue.”

  Nick was already dialing to get approval for the surveillance as Lara made her way down the hall to Mitchell’s room, James a half step behind.

  “I would be suspicious of this room even if we didn’t have someone who had positively ID’d Halpert as the bomber,” James muttered as they entered.

  “Exactly. Too perfect, right?”

  “Yeah, definitely staged. The Kate Upton poster gives it away.”

  Lara walked closer to the print looking for whatever it was James saw. A beautiful face. A sports magazine label down in the corner. Large breasts encased a tiny coral-colored bikini that wouldn’t stay in place more than two seconds if the woman moved even the slightest bit.

  But Lara couldn’t see whatever it was that clued James in.

  “That’s the 50th anniversary swimsuit cover, by the way.” He stepped up next to her. “I own the magazine that picture originally came out in last year.”

  “And why does this poster make you think the room is staged? Should I be looking for something different? Is there something about how it’s printed? What are you seeing that I’m not?”

  James smiled ruefully. “You’ll have to lie down on the bed to understand what I mean.”

  “That’s creepy, Walsh.”

  He chuckled. “I know. Just do it.”

  Lara sat down on the bed then slowly lay back until her head was against the pillow. “Okay, what?”

  James stepped out of the way so that Lara had a clearer view of the wall where the posters hung. “What do you see?”

  “The bookshelf is blocking size DD over there. All I can see are the constellation posters.”

  “Exactly.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Staged.”

  Lara sat back up. “Walsh, if you don’t tell me exactly what you’re talking about right now, you won’t see the outside of the CMU office for the rest of the year.”

  He gave her a cocky smile. “No twenty-one-year-old male would hang that poster where it couldn’t be seen from the bed. I won’t go into detail, but just trust me. Halpert would want that poster where he could see it right from where you are now.”

  Lara jumped out of the bed, skin crawling.

  “Okay.” She couldn’t help the shudder that coursed through her. “You’re a perv, but let’s say you’re right. What does it mean?”

  Lara walked back over to the poster and checked behind it to make sure nothing was there. That it wasn’t hiding anything.

  “I already checked,” James said. “That was my first thought, that he was hiding something with the poster.”

  “Okay, he’s not. But based on your—” she rolled her eyes “—penis-inspired observation, we can what? Assume that he has somewhere else where he feels more comfortable? That he considers his private space?”

  James shrugged. “I hadn’t thought of it that way—now who’s the perv—but you’re probably right.”

  Lara tamped down the frustration building inside her. “Why is it we always seem to get close to this guy but never quite close enough?”

  James nodded. “Trust me. No one wants to catch this guy more than me.”

  They searched through the books and CDs on the shelves but found nothing of interest. The dresser drawers produced clothes, but nothing suspicious.

  The walk-in closet didn’t provide much more results. It was as organized as the bedroom, and just as innocuous. A few shirts and pants hanging in the small space. Shoes scattered along the ground. A couple boxes filled with some useless junk—more books, some camping gear, sleeping bags.

  Nothing.

  Lara resisted the urge to slam her fist against the wall. She knew James had to feel the same way.

  “I don’t see anything in here. Grab some of his clothes out of the dresser and I’ll get some of his shoes. We’ll take them back to the lab and see if they can find traces of anything.”

  She grabbed a pair of well-worn tennis shoes closest to the door and decided to add the hiking boots that were in the back corner.

  As she moved some winter coats out of the way, a door appeared.

  Her weapon was in her hand in less than a second.

  “James!” she called, keeping her GLOCK pointed at the open space in front of her.

  There was some sort of secret room behind the closet. No wonder the damned thing seemed so small.

  “What?” James stuck his head inside the closet.

  “There’s a room behind this wall.”

  “Are you kidding me? What the—”

  He was cut off by Brenda’s reentry into the room. “I found Mitchell’s license plate number on an insurance form.”

  James pulled his weapon and pointed it at Brenda who let out a shriek.

  “What is going on?” She looked inside the closet and her eyes grew wide at the entrance Lara had found. “Wh-what is that?”

  “Get her out of here.” Lara still had her weapon trained at the cracked door.

  She could hear Brenda repeatedly asking what was happening in the closet as James pulled her out. Evidently Mom had no idea about Mitchell’s extra room.

  “What’s going on, Lara?” Jennifer’s voice.

  “Some sort of secret room I’ve stumbled on. Ready to go in?”

  It wasn’t a great tactical situation for them. Only one person could get through the hidden door at a time. If Halpert was in there, he could pick off someone as they came through.

  There was no way in hell anyone was going through that door first but Lara. She wou
ld not risk her team.

  “Halpert, I’m coming in. If you’re in there, get your hands up.” She said the words loud and clear.

  Jennifer shook her head. “Lara, I won’t be able to cover—”

  “I know. Just get in there as fast as you can behind me.”

  “Lara.” It was Nick’s voice now. “Wait for SWAT and the bomb squad. Let them storm the room. You’re not in a good tactical position.”

  Lara ignored him. She was done waiting. Plus SWAT wasn’t known for their gentle tactics. They might destroy important evidence as they muscled their way into the room.

  “Ready?” she said softly to Jennifer.

  Jennifer raised an eyebrow but nodded. She knew Nick wasn’t Lara’s boss. Jennifer might not agree with Lara’s decision to go in, but the other woman would have her back.

  Nick knew Lara too well. “Dammit, Lara—”

  “Now!” she yelled and put all her weight into moving the false door. It gave way and she barreled through, rolling to the side and ending up in a crouch in the corner, weapon pointed into the main section of the eight-by-eight foot room. Two seconds later Jennifer was also through the door, weapon raised.

  “Clear,” Lara said. “He’s not in here.”

  There wasn’t anywhere to hide in this room.

  But they had struck gold when it came to knowing more about Mitchell Halpert.

  “Holy shit,” Jennifer murmured.

  Lara grinned. “Indeed.”

  A giant black office chair took up the middle of the room. High-end. Definitely where Halpert spent most of this time. Three monitors rested on the desk in front of the chair. A bookshelf lined the back wall filled with notebooks and explosive schematics.

  A bomber’s paradise.

  Nick glared at her as he made his way into the room. Lara knew they weren’t finished with the discussion of what she’d just done. She shrugged. Nick had his way of doing things. Lara had hers.

  Hers included busting through doors.

  And leaving him in his bed while he was sleeping.

  She grimaced and walked over to study the bookshelf more closely. It seemed like every day the differences between her and Nick became more pronounced.