by Mary Head
It suddenly felt too quiet, and Jackie reached for the remote. The television flickered to life, now showing a movie from a few years ago.
Jackie left it on and headed into the kitchen for something to eat, his mind drifting once again to Hannah. He wasn’t sure how to approach the subject with Eddie, but he knew he would have to do it soon.
Sighing, he pulled a pizza from the freezer and dropped it onto a baking sheet, setting it on top of the stove while the oven heated up.
While he waited, he cleaned up a little bit, wiping down the counters and putting away the few dishes in the drain rack before moving to wash the ones in the sink.
When the oven beeped it was ready, he slid the pizza inside and set the timer, vaguely registering the TV cycling through channels as he closed the door. He took a breath as he straightened, bracing his hands on the counter, and then his eyes fell on the vial of drugs sitting on the counter.
Anger sparked inside him as he looked at it, remembering that it was the reason he had lost his maintenance job at the hospital, albeit somewhat indirectly. They had suspected he was stealing supplies, which had been true, but they didn’t know he had also stolen the sedative.
It had been Eddie’s idea, of course, to steal the drugs, along with the syringes, and Jackie’s fingers tightened on the counter as he gave a minute shake of his head.
Just in case, he thought bitterly, and then pushed away from the counter, turning back towards the sink.
He and Eddie ate their dinner in the living room, staring silently at the TV, and it was when Jackie returned from taking their plates to the kitchen that he turned towards his brother.
“Eddie, I was wondering,” he began slowly. “When are we going to let her go?”
Eddie glanced at him, frowning a little, but didn’t respond.
“It’s just – it’s been almost a week,” Jackie continued, “and you said we’d let her go after a few days.”
Eddie pushed irritably to his feet and stepped around the coffee table. “I don’t know.”
Jackie stood as well, staring intently at his brother.
“I was – I was talking to her earlier,” he said hesitantly, his heart pounding in his ears. “She said – she told me that you said. . .” He took a breath. “She said that you told her you were going to kill her.”
“What, and you believed her?” Eddie snapped, whirling on Jackie.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Jackie replied, his temper rising. “You said we weren’t going to hurt her, and that pretty much flew out the window Wednesday night –”
“Shut up,” Eddie said in a low voice, his expression dangerous.
“And you said the drugs were only for just in case we needed them,” Jackie pressed, “but then Friday came –”
“The bitch was trying to escape!” Eddie yelled.
“So what about Saturday, huh?” Jackie said loudly. “What was she doing then? Nothing. Not a god damn thing. You handcuffed her to that heater and that was it. No more freedom, no risk of her trying to run every time the door was opened, and yet you still made me drug her. And you told me to do it again last night –”
“Which I noticed you didn’t do. I should’ve known you wouldn’t have the balls to do it yourself.”
Jackie ignored this last comment. “Tell me who to believe, Eddie. Because it’s getting a little hard to know who’s telling the truth.”
Eddie stared at him for a moment, and then his face broke into a humorless smile.
“Okay, Jackie, you want the truth?” he said softly, taking a few steps forward. “Yeah. I’m gonna kill her. Tomorrow night.” He paused, his lip curling. “And what the fuck are you gonna do about it?”
Jackie shook his head, momentarily stunned at this blatant confession.
“No,” he said finally. “No, I won’t let you. She’s done nothing wrong; you don’t have to kill her.”
“Have you forgotten what her father did? What he’s responsible for? My son is dead because of him. Your nephew, Jackie.”
“I didn’t forget, but –”
“But nothing,” Eddie snapped, moving forward again. “This is the way it’s going to go. He’s going to pay for what he did. He’s going to know how it feels.”
“No,” Jackie said again, and started to move past him. “No, this is over. I’m letting her go.”
Eddie grabbed his arm, yanking him back, and then took hold of the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. Jackie grunted, his hands flying up to grip Eddie’s wrists, but Eddie held him fast, moving close.
“You’re not going to do a fucking thing.” Eddie’s voice was quiet, almost menacing. “What do you think will happen if we let her go? Hmm? You think you’re gonna be some big god damn hero? No. She’s gonna tell her daddy exactly who we are, and then it’s over for both of us. You’re in this just as deep as I am, and you’ll go to prison, same as me.” He paused, his eyes intent on Jackie’s face. “Have you forgotten everything I’ve done for you, little brother? You owe me. I’ve saved your ass so many times, don’t you dare pussy out on me now.”
Jackie stayed silent, his chest heaving, and Eddie looked at him a moment longer before letting him go and taking a step back.
“You care too much, Jackie,” he said, shaking his head, and then frowned thoughtfully. “You’ve been spending way too much time with her. You even slept down there.” He paused, and then smirked, his expression clearing as though he had just realized something. “Did you fuck her? Is that why you care so much?”
Before he knew what he was doing, Jackie launched himself off the wall and his fist flew up to connect with Eddie’s cheek, the bruise Hannah had left acting like a bullseye, telling him exactly where to strike.
Eddie stumbled back, a stunned expression flashing across his face for just a moment before he regained his balance and came at Jackie. His fist connected first with Jackie’s mouth and then again with his cheek, and Jackie fell to the floor, grimacing as he raised a finger to his split lip. He stared at the blood on his fingertip for a moment and then raised his eyes to his brother, who stood over him, breathing heavy as he stared mutinously down.
“You try to let her go, and I’ll make you watch when I shoot her, and then I’ll make you dump the body.” His voice was low and deadly, and he stared down at Jackie a moment longer before turning and starting towards the basement door.
“What are you doing?” Jackie asked, scrambling to his feet. “You leave her alone.”
“Make me,” Eddie muttered before shoving the door open and starting to descend the stairs.
Hannah looked up sharply when the door opened, her entire body tense as she watched Eddie move towards her. She had heard them fighting, though she hadn’t heard all that had been said, and anxiety fluttered within her, vying with her fear.
Jackie was at the top of the stairs, framed in the doorway, and Hannah felt the briefest flicker of sympathy at the blood on his lip and the bright red mark on his cheek.
It was hard to worry too much about him, though; she was too busy worrying about herself as Eddie continued towards her. She shifted slightly, pressing against the heater as she moved her legs a little, trying to adjust her position to her best defensive advantage.
Eddie crouched in front of her, his hands resting between his knees as he looked at her. She could see the bruise on his cheek was slightly darker than before, and felt a sudden surge of hope, pleased in the knowledge that Jackie had lashed out at his brother. It made her think that he might help her after all.
There was a heavy silence, and then Eddie glanced at his watch.
“Eight o’clock,” he murmured before raising his gaze to her face once more. “How does it feel to know you’ve only got 24 hours left to live?”
“Think I should be asking you that question.” Hannah took a deep, steadying breath as she stared back at Eddie. “My dad will find me, and when he does –”
“24 hours, princess,” Eddie interrupted. “I
f he hasn’t found you by now, what makes you think that he will before tomorrow night?”
“Because I know my dad,” she said quietly. “He doesn’t give up.”
Eddie stared at her a moment, and then rocked forward just before pushing to his feet, smirking in a satisfied way when she flinched and recoiled. He climbed the stairs and shoved Jackie back into the hall before slamming the door behind him
Chapter 50
Eli sighed as he closed the folder in his hands, reaching forward to set it on the discard pile. The stacks of files seemed never-ending, though it was hardly surprising, given David’s extensive career.
Still, Eli felt a sense of frustration as he looked at everything they still had to go through, and not far from his mind was the idea that none of these could be what they needed.
He decided he needed something to drink, and was about to ask David if he wanted anything when he noticed the other man had stopped reading and was staring at the clock.
Eli frowned as he followed his gaze, and then his chest tightened when he realized what he was looking at.
David shifted, seeming to remember Eli was there, and shook his head a little as he lowered his gaze to his hands.
“Eight o’clock,” he murmured. “24 hours. One more day until. . .” He trailed off and then shook his head again.
Eli didn’t respond, not sure what to say. He could feel the weight of the deadline on his shoulders, and knew it was so much heavier for David.
Clearing his throat, he stood and stepped around the coffee table, asking if David wanted anything as he headed into the kitchen.
A moment later he returned with a soda in each hand and handed David one before settling on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. He popped the tab on the can and took a sip, and then set it carefully beside him before reaching for another file.
A couple of hours later there was another pile of discards off to the side, and he sighed as he slid yet another file from the shrinking stack on the table.
Turning it to the side, he read the case name on the tab and frowned.
“Amy Lynn Faust,” he read out loud, and then looked across the coffee table at David. “Why does that sound familiar?”
David glanced up from the file he was browsing and frowned at the folder in Eli’s hands. A moment later his eyes widened and he held out his hand. “Let me see that.”
Eli passed it to him, and he set the file down on top of the stack in front of him and flipped it open, scanning the cover sheet.
“I remember this case,” he muttered, separating the sections of the case file and spreading them out. “She was walking home from school with two friends and these bastards –” He broke off and took a breath, paging through the file.
Eli pushed to his knees, reaching across the table for the cover sheet. “Yeah, they were twins, right?” he asked. “I remember it being all over the news, Amy and the two red headed twins, Kerry and Casey. It was like a bad made-for-TV movie.”
David nodded solemnly and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Yeah.” He shook his head as he stared down at one of the crime scene photos. “They were beaten and left in an empty lot like garbage.”
Eli watched David’s jaw tense as he swallowed and knew it was one of those cases, the kind that never leave you no matter how hard you try. He could remember the images and descriptions on the news every night, and how horrifying it was just to hear. He couldn’t imagine having seen it firsthand.
“It was some teenagers that did it, wasn’t it?” he asked.
David sighed and slumped back against the couch. “Two were seventeen, one was eighteen.” He shook his head again and stared up at the ceiling. “Fucking kids themselves.”
“So does the name Luke Connolly mean anything to you?” Eli asked.
David sat up immediately and frowned. “Connolly,” he repeated. Then he shuffled a few papers in one of the small stacks, pulled one out and leaned forward, skimming it quickly.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, it does.” He pulled out any page with details on Luke and passed them to Eli as he talked. “Luke Connolly was the eighteen-year-old, and the one we believed was the primary instigator. There were no witnesses, no blood in the car Connolly was driving when he was arrested. All we had was an elderly lady insisting she saw Connolly driving through that neighborhood with two male passengers at the time the girls went missing.”
David paused and ran a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Honestly, I didn’t think we had much of a case when we picked him up, but then we found the murder weapon in a dumpster at a construction site where Connolly’s father worked. The girls’ blood and Connolly's prints were all over it.”
Eli took a sip of his soda and leaned back, hands braced on the rug and his legs stretched out under the coffee table. “Sounds pretty open-and-shut to me.”
“Well, he ended up confessing, but kept going on about how there was something wrong with him. You know, something messed up in his brain. All bullshit, hoping for an insanity plea.”
“What happened to him?”
“He killed himself during the trial. Managed to get a piece of glass into his cell in holding and slit his wrists. Bled out before anybody found him.”
“Any idea why?”
David snorted. “I figured he just couldn’t handle the idea of going to prison. Everybody knows what happens to child killers.”
Eli glanced down at one of the photos of Amy lying face down in the grass, her head a mess of blood, and grimaced.
They lapsed into a short silence as David started to gather up all the papers and photos, tucking them back into the folder.
“Hold on a minute,” Eli said suddenly, standing and moving around to the other side of the table. He knelt down next to David and lifted up a few pages before pulling one out. “You said the murder weapon was found at a construction site?”
David looked at Eli, confused, and Eli couldn’t help smiling as he turned the page around and pointed to the date at the top.
“Check out the date Luke Connolly died.”
David’s eyes widened as he read the date, and then read it again and again to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. It was tomorrow’s date, Tuesday’s date, and he could feel the puzzle pieces snapping into place in his mind.
“And,” Eli added, flipping a few pages in the file, “their birthdays are only a couple of months apart. If he were still alive, he and Hannah would be the same age.”
David gave Eli a brief arched eyebrow when he mentioned Hannah’s birthday, but didn’t say anything. A moment later, he turned away and started scrambling through the newly resorted file, fighting to keep his excitement in check.
“What are you looking for?” Eli asked, growing more anxious by the second. He felt like they’d finally made some sort of sense, connected a case in a way that was much more than cursory.
David stopped and held up a form, giving it a glance before roughly shoving it at Eli.
Eli looked at the form, confused. It was a standard Bureau form for recording interview information, with the next of kin section filled out. A small square photo of a man was stapled to the upper left corner. The man looked rough and had a significant five o’clock shadow, but his eyes were hard and bright.
“This is an interview with Connolly’s father,” Eli said finally, scanning the demographic lines. “Edward Connolly.”
“Eddie,” David corrected. “All along he kept insisting that there was something wrong with his son, that he hadn’t killed those girls; that we were just trying to frame him because there was something wrong with his brain.”
“Can’t blame him for standing by his kid,” the younger agent said softly.
David gave him a slight smile. “No, I can’t.” Then his face turned serious and he pushed to his feet, pacing between the bookshelf and the coffee table as he talked.
“Eddie worked construction at the same site where we found the murder weapon. I’d bet anything he’s s
omewhere on the list of contracted workers where we found Han’s phone.”
Eli sighed. “But we don’t have the full list yet. Chris was still waiting for three or four to call back, and one demanded a subpoena.”
David exhaled, blowing air through his nose in exasperation, and stopped pacing, staring down at the scattered paper on the table with his hands on his hips. “I know, but we can’t wait for those lazy shits to get off their asses. This is it. It has to be.”
When he looked up, Eli stood and met his gaze. “I know. But how do we find Eddie?”
David sighed and bent to snatch his cell phone off the table. He unlocked it and tapped the screen a couple of times before raising the phone to his ear, glancing nervously at Eli as he waited for Juliet to answer.
◊◊◊
Juliet paused in the middle of the hallway and looked at the display on her phone. David had called her three times in the past five minutes, and she had ignored each one, but this time he finally left a voicemail. She took a deep breath and contemplated ignoring the message too, but there was a strange tense feeling in her gut that told her something had happened. She spun quickly on her heel and headed away from the command center. They had also had a break on the case, but something told her that she needed to find out what David was so excited about.
She slipped into the women’s restroom, closing and locking the door, and then tapped the screen to retrieve the voicemail. David’s voice was sharp in her ear, a mix of excitement and anxiety and panic. He always sounded this way when he figured something out, when the last clue finally revealed itself, and she felt her heart rate increase as she listened to his hasty explanation.
When the message ended, she pulled open the restroom door and glanced up and down the hallway, waiting to make sure Harry and Chris and the other agents were clear before she left. After a quick stop in her office, she hurried down the hallway and yanked open the stairwell door, trying to send a text message with one hand and not tumble down the stairs.