It was late afternoon when we’d arrived at the home of Finneaus Albert on twenty-three Jacob Lane. Kevin received an email from the Crewbies saying they were on their way, and would meet us at the hotel early the next morning. Our plan was to stake out the house and observe any movement. After that we’d head back to the hotel, meet up with the Crewbies and from there we’d figure out the rest. Our purpose was to stop him before he had the chance to hurt Marla or anyone else. We drove by the house once and saw the driveway was empty. We parked two houses down, across the street. It was a quiet neighborhood.
“I have a question,” I said after the first hour.
“Ask,” Kevin said.
“Why did you contact the Crewbies instead of the cops or the CIA?”
“I didn’t contact the Crewbies; they contacted me. Those smart asses figured it out without me. I needed you to sit up in bed and slap my face. I can’t call the law because the only hard evidence we have comes from the crew, and I can’t take that chance.”
“What about Marla?” I asked. “Do you think she’s inside?
“I don’t know,” he said.
“This is a big risk for you. If this goes wrong, you could lose your job.”
“If this goes wrong, I’ll lose more than my job.”
“I could leave. All you’d have to do is give me a head start. You can show the cops what the crew wrote, and they would arrest him.”
He laughed at me. “First you beg me to tag along, and now you want to leave? I’m not calling anyone. I’m not turning you over to the feds. I need to prove Finneaus is the bomber without help from the crew.” He turned off his phone. “Do you have an extra car key?”
I opened the glove box and took a key out of the owner’s manual. “This is the spare.”
“Put it in your sock down below the shoe level.” He got out of the car, and hid his gun in the back pocket of his pants.
“What are we doing?” I whispered.
“Looking,” he said. We walked at a normal pace across the street, down the sidewalk, and stopped under a tree that partially hid us. “Everything still silent in there?” Kevin asked and pointed at my head.
“Blissfully.”
“I’m happy for you, little sister but I could use a bit of crew help right now so you let me know if they knock on the door. We’ve got to find something that implicates him. You can’t build bombs of that caliber and not leave any evidence behind.” We started walking again, this time with more stealth, staying away from the front, and stepping quietly beside a sliding glass door on the side of the house. I could see that the glass door led to a kitchen, small but typical. Kevin made a call from his cell phone, and a second later I heard a phone ringing inside the house. Four rings, and an electronic voice asked for the caller's name. Kevin hung up.
“He’s not home, first down.” Kevin tried to open the glass door, but it was locked. The fence gate, a few feet down, opened easily. “First and ten do it again.” Kevin led the way slowly into the back yard and closed the gate quietly behind us. “No dog, that’s another ten and now for the Hail Mary.” We walked against the back of the house until we were standing in front of a large open window. “Touchdown,” he said. The window was covered with a sheer curtain, but the sun was at an angle that enabled us to see inside. A dining room sized table was covered with metal scraps, screws and broken glass. There were barrels of chemicals, fertilizer and six large gas cans. Kevin slid the screen open with ease and leaned inside. He took out his cell phone and started taking pictures.
“Will this be admissible in court?” I asked.
“These pictures are not—officially—being taken by me, but they’ll end up in the right hands.”
“How’s that?”
“How doesn’t matter. We’ve got to lock him up before he gets a chance to do it again.” The wind blew the curtain onto Kevin’s phone, and I leaned inside to hold it away from him. “There’s enough shit in here to blow up Sedona.”
I saw the man’s movement a split second before I heard his voice. He was standing directly behind us.
“BOOM.” The man’s scream jolted Kevin, causing him to turn so quickly that his legs were tangled and he landed on his hands and knees leaving his butt straight up, in front of the man. The man bent over, put his hand and the Taser he was holding up to Kevin’s ball sack and zapped him. Kevin froze for a moment then fell forward with a full-face plant to the ground. His body jerked. The only sound he made was a high-pitched whimper.
“Kevin!” I yelled, and dropped to my knees to help him. “Kevin, are you hurt?” He whimpered.
“He’ll be fine,” the man chuckled. “His love stick might never be the same, no great loss. But, now that he’s otherwise occupied you come along with me little lady.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you asshole.” I stood up ready to fight.
“Oh, I think you’d better do as I say, little lady.” He pulled the handgun from Kevin’s pants and was pointing it at my chest. “I think this little piece of metal guarantees it.” He was a short, slight man. Kevin could have crushed him with one blow (if Kevin could have gotten to his feet). The man wasn’t much larger than me for that matter, but a bullet is faster than any fist. I obeyed when he led me inside through the sliding glass door. He poked the gun in my back forcing me to walk through the kitchen and into another room—probably a den at one time—and pushed me to the corner. “Sit down,” he instructed.
“What do you want with us?” I asked. “Where’s Marla?”
“We’ll get to that in due time,” he said while taking zip ties out of his pocket. He secured my hands in front of me, and then my feet. The room was small and clean. Nothing hung on the walls, and it was sparsely furnished with a desk and rolling chair. A twin-sized bed, covered high with blankets and thick sheets of plastic, was against the opposite wall. “Best you don’t comment right now. We’ll wait till your little buddy outside gets his bearings, and then us three will have a proper consultation.” He took a roll of duct tape from the desk, and began to tape my legs from the toes to just above the knees. He taped from the elbows down, and around my wrists and thumbs. He ripped off a section with his teeth, put it over my mouth and went outside.
Sweat was running down my nose, making it itch and fueling my fear. I canvased the room with my eyes and realized I was sitting next to a hallway entry that probably led to the bomb making room. At the end of the same wall was another hallway. I couldn’t see where it led, but felt sure it was a front door or entryway. I leaned over and stretched to look further down the hallway next to me and saw three closed doors. On the first door hung a plaque—the kind of thing you’d make in an elementary school art class—that read Finney’s Lab. I listened carefully trying to hear anything other than the hum of the air conditioner motor. I made noises behind the tape on my mouth trying to call out Marla’s name, and held my breath in case of a response. The house was silent. I tried again, and again with no response. I wiggled my hands and feet but the tape wouldn’t loosen. I heard voices outside. I could hear Kevin yelling my name and then suddenly it was quiet again. A few seconds later, Kevin was being forced into the room with his wrists taped. His face was wet with sweat, and he was clearly in pain
“Sit down in that corner you big ape,” Finneaus instructed Kevin. Kevin sat never taking his eyes off the gun being waved around at him. Finneaus pushed the gun against Kevin’s head, and bent down to tape his legs. Kevin saw an opening and kicked Finneaus in the chest, which sent him sliding across the floor on his butt. Finneaus jumped to his feet and started waving the gun at me. “You hear me good blacky. Don’t mess with me! I’ve been waiting on this introduction for a long time, and I ain’t going to let your big ass ruin it before it even begins. Now put them feet out and together or I’ll blow a hole in blondie’s face. Any questions?” he yelled still waving the gun in my direction. “I thought not.” Kevin obeyed and put his feet together while Finneaus taped him from just above the knees down to his toes, and then taped his
mouth.
“Y’all thirsty?” Finneaus asked. He talked like a pleasant southern man. One wouldn’t think anything of him if he hadn’t had a gun in his hand. “Let’s get you stabilized and we can have a swig of soda, and a little dialogue. How’s that sound? Good? I think so just the same as you, boo. No talking,” he pointed his finger at us both, first Kevin and then me as he left the room.
Kevin suspiciously stared at the bed that was covered with blankets and plastic. He sat up as tall as he could, and let his eyes follow the length of the thick plastic. I tried to follow his gaze, but slumped down quickly when Finneaus came back into the room carrying a tray holding three cans of Dr. Pepper and three straws. He put a can between the tape that secured my hands and pointed the straw to my mouth.
“People always saying he’s not like us, something’s missing in him.” He sat on his knees. Our faces were no more than a few inches apart. He grabbed a corner of the tape across my mouth and ripped it off. My face stung as pieces of skin were ripped from my lips. He was smiling, and waiting with anticipation for my reaction to the pain. I smiled, and sipped the Dr. Pepper from the straw. “Hmm,” he said, stood up, and giggled. He then carried a can of Dr. Pepper to Kevin, sat on his knees and slowly moved to face him. “You’re a big one,” he said and ripped the tape from Kevin’s mouth. He put the can in Kevin’s hand and the straw on his lips. Kevin stared him down with eyes as cold as steel. “Is it good? Do you like it? You’re not as nice as the Y-chromosome, but the X’s usually aren’t. It’s all about the hunt and gather with you. Am I right? I know I’m right. You just don’t want to admit it, but I’m right. I bet I know as much about you as you do about me. You want to make a bet? Ok ten dollars, but we’re going to have to make an appointment for a consult on that because first we have to get the test results.”
Finneaus stood up, walked to the desk and opened a laptop computer. “If you will direct your attention to the screen over here.” He pecked around on the keyboard, sat in the chair and rolled himself to one side of the desk. The screen lit up with a slide-show presentation accompanied by classical music. “The plan has always been to do this with limited exposure to collateral damages. Make a plan and stick to it, I always say.”
The first slide was a picture of the Elementary school in Oklahoma taken before the bombing that slowly morphed into the rubble that remained after the explosion. “Page four—six hours dominating cable news,” Finneaus said. The next slide was a picture of Marla holding the Patient: Crew books. “She’s the one who knows everything. They had me fooled. I’d have bet Tim was the intelligence, but it turned out to be his woman. She shouldn’t have sold out. She should have refused. It's his fault all in all. We all know that’s the real truth here. He didn’t keep an eye on her. Only took me a second to snatch her. Boom—blow up the car. Boom—get the woman. It was easy once I got his attention, easy as pie in the sky. What good did it do me? That’s what I want to know. What good did any of it do me? She couldn’t produce the crew, couldn’t do it. But she knew who could. You could, she knew you could.”
The third slide was a picture of the bed on the opposite wall. There weren’t any blankets or plastic over the bare mattress. “She shouldn’t have been so stubborn. The Y’s are always stubborn. I’d planned it for years. I thought everything over in my head a million and two times, and then a million and four times more. It was the only way to get their attention. They’d have no other choice than to warn people. It wasn’t until I decided I’d kill a thousand people in thirty days that they finally said something. I figured it out, and I knew I was on the right track when the book came out with the warning—right there in that book—oh lord Jesus it was a thrill not to mention an honor. I mean…I mean…I didn’t even write it down. I just started saying in my head. Did I say it out loud? No, I don’t think so, but just the same they knew. They knew my every thought. I told her what I wanted. I told her what would happen. I told her everything I knew to tell her. She called you said you would bring them.”
The fourth slide was of the children’s museum in New Mexico, before the bombing. “I made her hold the phone. She pushed the final number. Page one, thirty-nine hours and counting on the national news networks, and a CNN special report. They’re calling me the baby bomber. I’d rather they call me the bombardier. Wish in one hand, shit in the other,” he giggled. “Am I right? You know I’m right. There’s supposed to be a picture right here of the blowed up museum, but I couldn’t fine one so’s we’ll just pretend it’s there. All the same it’s her fault, all her fault. She’s to blame for that one. She tried to hurt me with that phone so I gave her a Dr. Pepper and then, then, then!” The final slide was of Marla lying on a bed with a pillow under her head, her arms across her chest. “Didn’t take but a gulp and a swallow.” He leaned his body to the side as if falling over and started to sing. “I’m a pepper, she’s a pepper, wouldn’t you like to be a pepper too?”
My heart raced. I didn’t want to look at the bed. I didn’t want to think about her body rotting under the pile of blankets and plastic. “Oh my God.” I couldn’t stop the words from coming out. “You killed her? Is she in that bed?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Finneaus was confused by my outburst. “She ratted you out. She can’t be trusted if she’d rat you out like that, and so easily. The crew they’re happy. I know they are. I’m right about that.”
“You didn’t have to kill her,” I said. “You didn’t have to do that.” I started to take another drink of Dr. Pepper through the straw.
“Shanna don’t!” Kevin yelled. We shared a look of terror as we looked down at the cans of soda we’d been sipping.
“You poisoned her!” Kevin dropped his can to the floor.
“Now look what you’ve done,” Finneaus said, jumped from his chair and ran into the kitchen. He brought back a roll of paper towels, and wiped the soda from the floor.
“Why did you break into my house?” he asked Kevin.
“I didn’t break in. You forced me in.”
Finneaus pointed at Kevin and his right hand began to shake. “You sliced the body open, stuck your hands inside the body and that’s breaking, and that’s entering in any medical journal. Agreed?”
“Sure man whatever you say,” Kevin said. “What do we do now?”
“This is my conference.” Finneaus pointed at Kevin with his shaking finger. “You stay out of it.” He closed his eyes and mumbled to himself quietly. “One, two buckle my shoe. Three, four shut the door. Five, six pick up sticks.” The next second his eyes popped wide open, and he grinned at me. “I always find a moment of reflection can put a mind straight wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes.” I was afraid to say anything more. Marla was dead. I had no delusions about that fact. She was dead and probably under the blankets and plastic. Tim was in custody—telling the CIA who knows what—and we were the hostages of a lunatic.
“Ok then.” Finneaus sat in the office chair, rolled to me, stopping only when the roller nudged my leg.
“Do you know my name?”
“I don’t know.” I knew his name. I also knew the question was trick.
“Well?” he pushed. “Times up.” He rolled to the desk, picked up the gun, rolled back to me and held the gun against my head. His hand was still quivering. “Now, one more time. Do you know my name? It’s a simple question.”
“Finneaus Albert,” Kevin yelled. “Finneaus mother fucking Albert.”
“Did I ask you? Did I say a word to you? That’s not fair, and now you’ve gone and ruined everything.” He took the gun away from my head, and rested it in his lap. He started to cry softly then slowly he rolled his chair back to the desk and closed the laptop. “The presentation is over. You have successfully crapped on it all. I don’t want to play this game anymore.” He laid his head on the desk and became quiet; within ten minutes he was snoring.
“Look for something sharp,” Kevin whispered lightly.
“She’s under those blankets,” I
said.
“I don’t know,” Kevin said. “But if you ever wanted to see crazy there it is.”
“She’s there, under there.” I couldn’t look at the bed.
“Snap out of it. Yes she’s probably there and if we don’t want to join her we had better look for a way out of this.” Kevin pulled his legs in an attempt to rip the tape. He tried to get up on his knees, but fell over every time. I looked around the floor for something sharp. It was one of the cleanest floors I’d ever seen. The room had a strong odor of pine cleaner, and bleach.
“There’s nothing over here,” I said.
“Nothing here either. We’ve got to get out of here. Don’t talk, understand?” he looked at me in the same way Jade had when she forced a promise out of me—the promise that got me into this mess.
“Do you still have the key?”
“Yes,” Finneaus stopped snoring and whispered. “I want to know the answer to that question myself. Do you still have the key?” He kept his head on the desk with his eyes closed. “You failed the sleep test. I’m not as crazy as you. You thought I was sleeping, and that’s crazy, and you’re even crazier for thinking you’ll get away. Clean as a whistle this house is. Not a mouse in this house.” He raised his head and looked at me. “Where’s the key and what does it open?”
“I don’t have the key. I forgot it,” I said.
“I’ll be nice one more time,” he said and cocked his head to the side. He stared at me and then turned his chair quickly to look at Kevin. After a few long seconds, he turned his chair to face the desk again. He fumbled with the gun in his lap, slowly picked it up and rolled to me.
“I said I wouldn’t I said I couldn’t, and now you’ll say I shouldn’t.” He got out of the chair and stood next to my head still fumbling with the gun. “Sun’s a going down now it’s time to speak or you’ll be on your way to that great sunset in the sky.” He rubbed the barrel of the gun down my cheek causing me to shake uncontrollably. My nerves were chaotic. I looked down at the ring and thought that not being able to return it to Jima would be my only regret. I knew that at some point if not now he would shoot me. “No time like the present,” Finneaus said, cocked the gun and pushed it into my head.
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