Guilty Crime

by W L Knightly

  “You could say that. I’m running away. Want to come?”

  “Where are we going? Did you find a lead?”

  “Sorry, I’m not talking about the case. If you come, we leave it behind. I’m trying a new method.”

  “You’re hoping to walk away from the case in hopes that taking a step back jogs your memory?”

  “I guess it wasn’t as new as I said, but sure. Are you in? If so, I’ll pick you up on the way to my house.”

  “You’re not home?”

  “Nah, I spent the night at the office, also known as the place we will not mention for the next twelve hours.”

  “Only twelve?”

  “I’m hoping the method works by then. Do you think that’s wishful thinking?”

  “Not at all,” said Jo. “And I do think I want to be in. Where are we going?”

  “Can I make it be a surprise? Dress casual.”

  “Casual as in you’re taking me to the diner, or casual as in we’re going to be working in a garden?”

  “Gardening would be more like it. I hope you’re not afraid to get dirty.”

  “Not at all. You’ve been at the crime scenes with me, you—”

  “Ah, ah, ah. No mention of those things either. I think you can handle this. And if you hate it, you can pick something else.”

  “Sounds fair. Come get me. I’ll make sure to dress like a slob, and I won’t even bother combing my hair if you want.”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes.” He hung up the phone and switched lanes, taking the next exit. He put the pedal down and then lowered his window to let the wind blow into the car. He needed to feel free for a minute.

  When he finally got to Jo’s house, she met him at the door with her hair in a ponytail. She wore faded jeans and sneakers and a Foo Fighters concert tee. “That was fast.”

  “Yeah, it helps that I was already on the road. Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes. You said to go comfortable, and this is as comfortable as I get outside of the house.”

  “You’re perfect,” he said, looking her up and down.

  Her cheeks reddened a bit. “Thanks.” She pulled her door closed and followed him out to the car. “So, we’re going to your place?”

  He was glad that he’d had a little time to clean up a bit days earlier. “Yeah. Just so I can freshen up a bit and get the stuff we need.” He knew he had everything, including poles and tackle.

  “So, this is weird that we can’t talk about work. I guess we’ll have to get to know each other in a different way.” She didn’t seem as put off by the idea as he thought she might be, and he liked the thought of it too.

  He drove to his house, and they made small talk on the way. When he got out of the car, he turned to her. “We’re going to take my old truck.”

  “You have a truck too?” she asked.

  “I keep it in back. It’s an old beater, but it’s perfect for where we’re going. Come on, and I’ll give you a clue.”

  “Oh, no. I’m not looking for clues. That’s too much like work. I’m just letting this happen. I’ll take it as it comes.”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle at her, and when he walked into the house, she followed. “Give me a minute. I will be right back, and you can make yourself at home.” He left her looking around in the living room as he stepped into his bedroom to change and brush his teeth. He didn’t want to be a total slob.

  “I swear you have the coolest house ever.” She was staring up at the ceiling when he walked out.

  “I’m glad you like the ceiling.”

  She laughed. “I was just appreciating the woodwork.”

  He liked that she liked his house. He would love for her to put a woman’s touch on it. Her touch. He had a lot of thoughts in his mind about what he’d like from her but knew he had to reel it in and not get his hopes up. “Thanks. I’ll need your help out here. And then we’ll be on our way.”

  “I still can’t guess where we’re going,” she said as she followed him out.

  He led her to the small workshop he kept his sporting goods in. “I’m pretty sure you’ll get it soon enough.” He unlocked the building and then opened the door. “Here, hold this, and don’t let the hook get you.” He passed her a fishing pole and then went for another one. He had two that were better than the others, and those were the ones he wanted to bring. Plus a spare just in case.

  “Here.” He passed her another one and grabbed the tackle box. “Okay, that’s all I need. Everything else is with the boat.”

  Her eyes widened. “Fishing? Really?”

  “Yeah, I thought it was time you learned. Are you good with that?”

  “Yes,” she said with excitement in her voice. “I’ve always wanted to go.”

  He led her over behind the shed where he had parked his old beat-up blue Chevy and opened the door for her.

  She climbed inside, and he went around, smiling at the sight of her in his truck. This was the best idea he’d had in ages, and he was glad to share it with her.

  He got in, and even though it took two tries to get the engine running, soon they were on their way to the lake access down the road.

  He felt her staring as he parked. “I don’t know what brought this on, but I’m glad it did.”

  “Don’t think about it. Just enjoy the time.” He took her hand and led her to the boat, not even thinking twice about it until she pointed it out.

  “Hm, we’re holding hands now?”

  “Sorry,” he said, not letting go. He knew he had to help her into the boat soon enough.

  “I didn’t say I minded. Like I said, I’m going with it.” She squeezed his hand tighter and followed as he led her to the boat and helped her in.

  “Oh, I guess I read too much into that.”

  “No, it’s fine. I don’t mind either.”

  They settled into the boat, and he paddled them out until they were in his private slue where the banks were full of lily pads and water lilies. “This is beautiful.”

  “Thanks. My house is through the woods just up on that bank.” He pointed to the tree line. “I have to use a different access because of it. You should hear the frogs at night. They make a lot of noise.”

  “Maybe that’s the reason you can’t sleep,” she said with a smile.

  “Maybe.” He knew he had to change the subject away from work. “We’ll stay out here and see if we can’t catch some perch. They are smaller and perfect if you want to practice.”

  “Sounds good. How do I catch them?”

  Jake opened his tackle box, and Jo frowned when he pulled out the can of Vienna sausages.

  “What is that?”

  “Bait.” He shook the can. “Perch like this stuff. I’ve caught a lot with it, and I didn’t think you’d want to stab worms on your first day out.”

  She made a face. “I appreciate that. Especially since I plan on catching and throwing them back.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t eat a fish I’ve been introduced to.”

  Jake shook his head as he baited her hook. “I was going to fry some fish for our dinner, but I guess that’s out.”

  She suddenly made a different face, one that said she might like that idea. “Well, we’ll see how it goes. I might not catch anything.”

  He cast her line and reeled it in a bit. “Trust me, you will.” He got her situated with her pole, and then he cast out for himself.

  “You’re going to have to teach me to do that,” she said, feeling a tug on her line. “Jake! I think I got something!” She pulled back on the pole.

  “Reel it in,” he said, wishing he could take over and do it for her. He watched her struggle, but soon, she had the line in, and the tiny perch was dangling on the end of her hook.

  “I did it!” she cheered. “Oh, that’s so much fun!”

  Jake got up and got the fish off the line. “Mr. Perch. Meet, Jo. Jo, this is Mr. Perch.”

  “Isn’t he cute?”

  “And way too small to keep,�
�� he said. “You’ll have to tell him bye, but I’m sure you’re good with that.”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Perch. Send one of your larger cousins my way.”

  “Great. Now I’ll never get you to eat any of them.”

  “Nah, I think I’m going to like this, and better yet, I’ve got a craving for fish.”

  He laughed as he cast out her line and handed her the pole. “Now, see if you can give me time to wet my hook.”

  “I can’t promise you anything.” As soon as Jake’s hook hit the water, another fish jumped on her line. “Jake!”

  “Looks like you’re a natural.” He got up, and as soon as she reeled it in, he helped her take the fish off the line.”

  “Is that a keeper?”

  Jake opened up his bucket and tossed the little fella inside. “Yeah, so I better not make any introductions.”

  He had no sooner gotten her hook in again when she caught another one. “Oh no, Jake. This is madness!” She got to her feet to struggle with the fish.

  Something clicked in his mind, and just like that, he started to remember. “Madness. Madden. Madden! That’s his name!” He got to his feet to help.

  “Whose name?” Jo’s eyes lit with surprise.

  “The Hangman’s!” He stepped closer, and the boat toppled, throwing her off balance and into the water.

  Chapter 25

  Chief O’Connor

  O’Connor roused to the smell of sweat and body odor that he wasn’t sure was his own and the feeling of his skin being ripped off of his legs and hands as he was dragged to a sitting position. He moaned out a sound of pain.

  The last thing he remembered was being drugged and then waking up only to be drugged again. He had no idea where he was, but the old building looked a lot like a warehouse by how spacious it was.

  He wondered if his screams could echo off the walls, and as soon as the Hangman left, he was going to try it out. He watched the man walk over to a box and pull out long length of rope. As he tied a noose, O’Connor knew it was for him.

  “You’re a hardcore son of a bitch,” said a familiar voice, and when O’Connor turned to look, he was surprised to see Clay tied up beside him. He was bare-chested too, and that couldn’t be a coincidence. “Tying the noose in front of him? Damn man, even I’ve never been that fucking cold. You could at least take off the fucking hood. I mean, I could always just tell him who you are.”

  The Hangman’s hooded face tilted upward. “I could still stuff that rag back in your mouth. So why don’t you sit there quietly like a good bitch before I have to?”

  O’Connor looked at Clay and knew if the man hadn’t gotten away from him, he had little hope.

  “I take it the two of you know each other. I’ve done my homework. I know your past. The way the two of you met, even.”

  O’Connor wondered if the man had seen his face, but he was not sure he wanted to. He didn’t have any desire to look the devil in the eyes.

  “You should really sit back and contemplate your parts. Your game will begin soon enough.”

  Clay leaned in closer to the chief. “I told him putting the two of us together was useless. We hate each other.”

  The only problem was, the chief didn’t hate Clay. Not at all the same way Clay hated him. He pitied him if anything.

  “I’ll let you two catch up while I get things ready. But just to ensure you don’t go anywhere,” the Hangman reached out and grabbed them up by their throats, “stand up.”

  Both men struggled, one and then the other, to stand on the chairs. O’Connor was already dizzy and ready to fall. The Hangman cinched the ropes and took away most of the slack.

  And then he left.

  “Well, if this isn’t a fucking predicament,” said Clay. “I bet you could think of a thousand other motherfuckers you’d rather die with than me. Hell, it’s almost poetic, isn’t it?”

  Seeing the Hangman leave, O’Connor had a wave of hope wash over him. “We have to figure something out. And fast. I don’t know how long I can stand here.”

  Clay’s eyes widened. “In case you haven’t figured out how this works, whoever hits the floor, the other one hangs. So, I know you hate me and all, but I’ll be willing to make a deal. You don’t jump and neither will I.”

  “If we both don’t fall off this thing first.” He tried to remember how much he weighed and wondered the same about the younger man. They might be close, but there was no telling really. Looks could be deceiving, and a couple of pounds could make all the difference in a situation like this.

  If only Callie hadn’t made him lose weight. He scolded himself for thinking it. It wasn’t her fault he was in this situation.

  “That’s no way to talk,” Clay said. “You really are a piece of work. Every time there’s been a shitty day in my life, you have been there. I might start to think it’s intentional.”

  “This isn’t my doing. If you and Michael Young would have succeeded, I wouldn’t be here. Instead, you got yourself in a pickle, and now I’m here with you. I thought you were going to kill this SOB.”

  “What happened to Michael?” Clay pegged him with a hard glare.

  O’Connor hadn’t seen him before he left the hotel. He knew if he said anything, he wouldn’t let him go. “He was at the hotel when I left. At least I think. It was pretty early.”

  “You left the Rockford?” The tone of Clay’s voice made O’Connor feel like a scolded child, which only made him angrier.

  “I didn’t see any reason to stay.”

  “Because if you had stayed there, you wouldn’t be here,” said Clay. “For a man of your intelligence, you sure know how to fuck things up.”

  O’Connor swayed on his feet, and Clay reached out to steady him. “Careful, old man.”

  “I’m fine.” He wasn’t fine, though. As the restraints dug into his flesh, he could tell that he wasn’t getting out of there alive. He’d never see his Callie Rose again. She would be devastated, but at least she’d have her sister and other family to help her through it. He had left her enough in savings and with his pension that she would be set for the rest of her life, and that was the best he could do for her now.

  “You know, I always wanted to be a cop when I was younger, even after they came and took the old man away. I just didn’t know how.”

  O’Connor looked over at the man, seeing the young version of him. “You’d have made a damned fine one.” He meant it too. The man could have been many things if he hadn’t influenced his life.

  He’d already come clean to Jake, and at least he wouldn’t have to wonder what happened to him. Or how he was involved. He wished he could take back all of the shit he’d done, but that just wasn’t how it worked. He couldn’t run from it, and he couldn’t fix it. He had to face whatever punishment he was dealt, and this was the day he got his comeuppance.

  Clay didn’t understand how fitting it was for the two of them to be in the situation together, but it made total sense to O’Connor. He had to face Clay before he died and tell him he was sorry. He had not only made his father take the fall for something another officer had done, but it had set him on a path to becoming just as bitter against law enforcement.

  He knew with his dying breath, he’d have to come clean and apologize.

  Just then, the door opened across the room, and the Hangman returned. “I hope you two are getting along. It would be a shame to go out in a fight. Especially since you’re depending on each other.” He walked over and cranked a lever on the platform below them, and there was clicking overhead, but O’Connor did not dare look up.

  Clay cleared his throat. “Just kill us both now and get it over with. He can go first. I’ll watch.”

  “Nah, I think it’s time you both play a game instead. But first, I’ll need something from my intended victim to start.” He pulled a large knife from his long black coat and, with a quick motion, slashed O’Connor across the chest.

  He sagged, and Clay reached out to hold him, the two of them barely able to keep t
heir feet firmly planted.

  Chapter 26

  The Hangman

  He found no joy in ripping others apart, but he did feel a strange satisfaction, and a voice inside him said it was almost done. His mission to find peace in his mind and make those who had wronged him pay for what they’d done to his family.

  “Why are you doing this?” asked O’Connor. His chest was sliced open, the blood dripping down in streaks.

  “You know why,” he said, digging his fingers into the wound. A deep scream of agony left O’Connor’s throat. Once his hands were good and soaked, he bent down and drew the Hangman’s gallows on the floor because there were no walls close enough to use. “Don’t disgrace me by asking.”

  He finished drawing ten lines on the floor, spaces for the letters of the word he’d chosen, and then the Hangman stood and faced the chief, pulling off his hood. It was time the man knew who he was dealing with. He saw the look in his eyes when he realized who he was. “Remember me?”

  The sharp intake of breath from the chief told him he did. “Yeah, I’m who you think I am,” said the Hangman. “I realize I look a bit different now, but that’s mostly your fault.”

  Clay turned and looked at the chief. “You did that to him? Impressive.”

  The Hangman gave Clay a sideward look. “No, you were right, I did this to myself, but only after I felt there was no hope for my case against Kyle Young. You see, O’Connor here knew that he was guilty, and I begged him. On my fucking knees if I recall, I begged.” He pointed his bloody finger at O’Connor. “But you wouldn’t help me continue my fight. You told me that your hands were tied and that there was no way you were going to go against the judge’s ruling.”

  “My hands were tied.” O’Connor trembled.

  “Only because your friend would have been sent up the river. You didn’t care about doing what was right as long as you got to keep your job. You could have fought a little for me. But you were so worried about impressing everyone instead of making a point to do the right thing. But that’s because you didn’t get your job the honest way. No, you are just as crooked as the rest of them.”