by Amy Andrews
Lenny hit the end button, and decided that the Jane Doe information the Lieutenant had for him could wait. He already knew who it was in his gut anyway, but didn’t want to admit it to himself. Hearing it from her would just make it all too real. He walked back into the store up to the photo counter, where the kid looked ten shades of white.
Handing Lenny the envelope, the kid swallowed hard with saucer eyes and said, “No charge, sir.”
Lenny gave the kid a nod, and said, “thanks, kid.”
Settling behind the wheel of the Mustang, Lenny opened the envelope and took out the photos.
He started flipping through them at a furious pace. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach, as the photos revealed Detective Kate Leopold, as beautiful as he had known her. A gruesome chronicle of her becoming the unrecognizable Jane Doe from this morning. He wanted to stop looking at the photos, but continued on. After Kate’s last photo, there were pictures of his Tessa. The photos depicted her gagged and tied, with a black and blue gash on her forehead, laying just outside her darkroom, on the hallway floor of their home.
He had no need to call Sara now. He knew the news she was going to tell him. His instincts had been right. First his Katy, now his Tessa.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let his head slump forward, to rest on top of the steering wheel. He could barely catch his breath, as he sat there and shook while he sobbed. Finally gathering himself, he wiped the hot tears from his bloodshot eyes, and the snot dripping from his nose. Reaching into his back pocket, he popped a piece of Wrigley’s to calm his nerves, although he could have gone for a shot or two of Jack. Reaching over into the glove box, he pulled out a red and blue flasher, which he never had use for until now. Setting it up on the dash, he flipped it on, siren and all. He fired up the Mustang, and did a burnout in the Walgreens parking lot, leaving nothing but a trail of white billowing smoke, and the smell of burning hot rubber The weight of his foot pushed the pedal to it’s limit. The Mustang’s engine roared to life as he took of like a bullet. He sped down US 41 towards the Alley so fast, that everything was nothing but a blur.
CHAPTER TWELVE - DECEPTION
Under the Everglade’s dark canopy, Bobby Thorne shed his mask. He no longer needed it. It was now dark out, but there were also other reasons. He was deliberate in leaving a trail that his partner, Detective Shane could follow. He wanted to make it easy, but not too easy. He was the spider that was spinning a web to lure his prey right into his trap.
He was methodical in setting up some booby type traps that would hinder Detective Shane’s progress, but only in a temporary way. He actually wanted Detective Shane to find him and his beloved Tessa. Only when the time was right, though. This was his game, his rules. Checkmate would only happen when he was ready, and all of the pieces of his plan had come together.
He had left Tessa tied to a tree, so she would be going nowhere fast. Besides, when he left her, she was still out like a light. She looked so peaceful sleeping there with he campfire flickering about, like a million candles illuminating her soft features. Make no mistake, thoughtfulness was not the reason why he lit the campfire. There were dangerous creatures out here. Alligators, panthers, bears, and snakes, just to name a few. She was his prey, not theirs, so he would keep them at bay with fire. Little did she know, none of those predators were as dangerous as he.
The hardest part of his plan was over now. Yes, he had suffered minor setbacks, but his plan was back on track. He had the girl, and the bait would follow. The rest would be gravy. He was almost saddened at the thought. All of the years of planning, coming to an end. He was definitely looking forward to the look on Detective Shane’s face… watching him feel the same agony and rage that he had caused all of those years ago. He would then see what it felt like. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be around to see Detective Layne’s face when he found out that he would never see his precious Kate again. Damn.
Hearing the sound of rustling brush far off the distance, snapped Bobby Thorne out of his daydream state. He finished tying off the trip wire he had laid, and covered it up with forest floor debris.
It was time to switch to Mr. Nice Guy, and go wake up the sleeping princess. And, it would be a whole lot easier to get on the move, if she were to unknowingly cooperate. He wanted Detective Shane close, but not too close. Not just yet.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - A HERO
Croaking frogs, chirping crickets, hooting birds, and various other sounds of nature invaded Tessa’s ears. She shook her head to ward off the annoying buzz of mosquitoes that were relentlessly dive bombing her. She would give almost anything to have some Off bug repellant right now. The flickering campfire was the only light source under the thick canopy. She sat on a blanket of dried pine needles, with her legs extended in front of her. The rear side of her sweatpants were damp, where the moist ground beneath had permeated through the dry topped pine straw. A light moan escaped her lips, when she realized the pounding headache that was invading her skull. She noticed through slightly blurred vision, that her ankles and wrists were no longer bound, but that damn nylon rope was wound around her torso, securing her to a tree. And she thought wearing an under wire bra was uncomfortable. Heaving her midsection forward, she tried loosening the rope in order to slip out. She was getting nowhere fast.
The man in the mask was no where in sight. Peering around, her environment looked the same in all directions. Trees. Lots and lots of trees, and a campfire. When was this awful nightmare going to end? One thing was for sure, if she did make it out of this alive, she, nor Lenny for that fact, would never forget their 30th anniversary. Like ever.
She heard the soft crunching of leaves not too far off into the distance. Jesus, it could be a black bear, or a panther out here. She couldn’t decide if it would be better or worse than seeing her captor again. She decided that if it were him, she would face him head on. She was tired of being scared. Tired of the days events, and wanted to know what the hell this was all about. She resolved to asking bluntly when he showed his face again.
Drawing in a deep breath, she made out a dark and shadowy figure closing in from the distance. The dried out palm fronds crunched under his feet. Her anger turned into relief as the approaching face was illuminated by the flickering camp fire.
“Oh, thank God,” Tessa exclaimed. A smile lit up her face from ear to ear, as she recognized Lenny’s partner. Although she didn’t know him that well, she had met him once or twice before, at one of the Department’s family cookouts.
Detective Bobby Thorne put his finger to his lips, indicating to Tessa to keep it quiet. Holstering his gun, and looking around, he started trying to undo the rope that was keeping Tessa sequestered to the tree.
“Where is he?” he asked in a whisper.
“I don’t know,” she panted. “Please. Just hurry. There should be a knife in that backpack over there,” she rattled out quickly. “Please, Bobby, get me out of here!” she pleaded.
Running over to the backpack, Detective Bobby Thorne rifled through it until he found the hunting knife, that he already knew was there. Going behind the tree, he started sawing through the layers of rope.
Hearing far off footfalls closing in on the distance, Thorne started working faster, and sweat beaded on his brow in the thick humidity. Tessa closed her eyes and started moving her silent lips in prayer.
Feeling the last restraint loosen, Tessa scrambled up off of the ground. She stood too quickly, and had to grip the tree to steady herself. Feeling extremely light headed, she stood there, thankful that the tree was there to lean on.
Lightly grasping her under the armpit, Detective Thorne tried to steady her on her own two feet. “Are you okay? Do you need help walking?”
She nodded in response, as her eyes grew large with panic. He was almost there. She needed to get away. Now. Detective Thorne grabbed her by the arm, and together they jogged off into the brush. Grabbing the backpack on the way out, Detective Thorne swung it around his shoulders. It bobbed up and down on
his back, in rhythm with his and Tessa’s light jog.
About ten feet into the dense brush, Detective Thorne pulled his police issued flash light out of his belt holster, to illuminate their path. Keeping up the quick pace made Tessa want to vomit. She feared that she may have a concussion. Not to mention the fact that she had not eaten since breakfast, and had been knocked out twice today. From what she could remember, anyway. She was already a little unsteady on her feet, and the debris littered ground wasn’t exactly smooth.
Doubling over with a pain in her side, Detective Thorne offered her assistance.
“I need to rest, Bobby. My head hurts so bad, and I’m starving.”
“Okay,” he said understandingly. “Let’s see if we have anything here for you.”
He removed the backpack off of his shoulders and placed it on the ground. Using his flashlight to peer through it, he pulled out a chocolate chip granola bar, and a bag of peanuts. Handing them to her, he asked, “can you eat them while we keep moving?”
“Sure,” she said, rubbing her sore head. Her face grew quizzical and then asked, “Bobby,… why are we running? You’re a cop.” Pointing towards his belt she said, “you have a gun.”
“I do. And I am a cop, but I also have no backup. I don’t know who or what I’m up against, and my first priority is not to apprehend the suspect, but to protect you, and get you out of here. If I confront him, and something happens to me, where does that leave you? We need to keep ahead of him. Now, can you eat that while we keep moving?”
Tessa nodded her head in approval, as she and Detective Thorne continued to move further and deeper into the brush.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - THE HUNT IS ON
Figuring he had no other leads right at the moment, Lenny decided to check out the suspicious car that was found on the Alley, that Lieutenant Sara Whitten had phoned him about. Even if she hadn’t phoned him about it, his talk with Mr. Perkins confirmed that there was a black sedan outside his house this morning. Whether or not it was the same sedan, remained to be seen. Regardless, it would have been his next stop anyway. Knowing Lieutenant Whitten was already processing anything left at the scene in his house, he would make good use of his time until, or if she called him with any other leads.
Barreling down the highway, he kept one hand on the steering wheel, and the other on the Hurst shifter, prepared to downshift, or blare the horn if necessary. Even with his body vibrating from the raw power that his car was unleashing, he maneuvered the Mustang through the traffic with ease. With the siren blaring, and the red and blue whirling light, he didn’t bother to stop at the toll booth. He veered into the Sun Pass lane and blew right through that bitch.
After twenty five minutes of his M15’S pounding the pavement at a buck twenty, he noticed a set of freshly laid skid marks on the road. Lenny slowed the beastly Cobra 427 Jet, down to a mere fifty. It made him feel like an Olympic sprinter with a twisted ankle. The guardrail to his right was a mangled mess of steel, which Lenny followed to it’s end. Looking past the guardrail and the broken fence, Lenny saw the battered remnants of a black sedan, which had come to rest against a tree. Her crumpled remnants made it obvious that she was going no where fast.
Pulling the Mustang on to the right shoulder of the road, he kept the flasher on, but silenced the ear piercing siren. Before stepping out of the vehicle, he flipped on his hazard lights, because dusk was setting in. The dry grass crunched beneath his boots, as he followed the mowed down path of the thick brush with his flashlight, to where the black Lincoln Continental had come to it’s resting place.
His gut was telling him that this car was the same sedan that Mr. Perkins had told him he had saw leaving his driveway earlier this morning. He just wanted to find some type of confirmation. Grabbing his iPhone, Lenny snapped a picture of the license plate, and sent it to Lieutenant Sara Whitten. He was hoping that running the plate would give him a clue as to whom he was dealing with.
To keep his own prints from contaminating a potential crime scene, Lenny slipped on some outdoor type gloves he had removed from his camo duffle. Pulling open the driver’s side door of the Lincoln, an intense blast of heat pressed down on him. The hot Florida sun had a way of making the inside of a sealed up car feel like an oven on high. The distinct smell of pine freshener and English Leather was overpowering, and rolled out of the car like a thick fog. He clicked the glove box open, to reveal nothing but an empty vessel.
“Shit!” he exclaimed, as he slammed the empty vessel back to its closed position. Of course the car registration was not in there. That would make his life way to easy.
Noticing that curiously, the driver’s side back seat was flipped down, he pulled the trunk release lever, and went around to the back of the car to peer inside.
Lenny’s heart skipped a couple of beats when he saw the scattered remnants of crumpled duct tape throughout the trunk. Flashes of Katy’s battered and broken body flashed through his mind. The thought of Tessa being hurt like that was unimaginable. Just the thought of it made him sick. Literally. Bracing himself with one hand on the trunk of the car, and the other on his knee, Lenny littered the grass with the remnants of his last meal. After his stomach calmed down, he wiped his mouth, and popped a piece of Wrigley’s. Slowly swallowing the spearmint flavor from the thin stick of gum, he got his bearings back. He made a conscious decision to not let his mind go there again. If all he got done was puking, then he would be burying Tessa right along side Katy. He had to release the emotional attachment, and follow this case just like any other. Continuing to inspect the trunk, Lenny noticed that there was a small blood stain on the carpet, but nothing that was life threatening. Picking up the pieces of duct tape to inspect them more closely, he saw one long strand of golden blonde hair. He would be willing to bet his left arm that it belonged to Tessa. He was also willing to bet that it would be a forensic match to the tape residue found on Katy’s wrists.
In his mind he started to create a picture. Tessa is restrained in the trunk of the car. She somehow manages to remove all of her restraints, and enters the vehicle by flipping down the driver’s side back passenger seat. Then what? She and the driver engage in a struggle. The driver loses control of the car, and crashes into a tree. Where the hell were they? Did they get picked up by someone, or ….
Lenny turned, and looked off into the thick expanse of the Everglades. He scanned the tree line for movement. Nothing but still trees. Moving his eyes closer to where he stood, Lenny inspected the ground and the surrounding area of the vehicle for tracks. Sure as shit, there was one fresh set of large footprints, broken twigs, and bent grass leaving a breadcrumb trail straight into the Everglades. He would have noticed them when he was looking at the ground before, had his mind been where it was supposed to be. At the time, it was on a one way futile effort to keep his food where it belonged.
Walking back to the Mustang, he turned off both sets of flashing lights, and stuffed the keys into his pocket. Before setting off, he grabbed his duffle, and slung it over his shoulder. Daylight and time were your best friend when you were tracking an animal, and he was quickly running out of both.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - COLLECTING EVIDENCE
Hanging up the phone, Sara had a look around Lenny’s place. She was alone for the time being, because she hadn’t phoned anyone else or reported it. This was going to remain off the books so to speak, until she figured out what in the hell was going on. Not just anyone could be trusted right now. Some twisted individual seemed to have it out for Lenny. First his co-worker, now his wife? This wasn’t random by any means. This was personal. Thirty-some years on the police force with a treasure trove of scumbags socked away due to Lenny’s police skills didn’t exactly narrow down a potential list of suspects.
As Lieutenant Whitten walked around and inspected the doorjambs and windows, there were no signs of forced entry, as far as she could see. It was not completely out of the question for the doors to have been unlocked. The abduction did take place early in the day in a g
ood neighborhood, she thought.
Poor Tessa. Sara hoped to God that she didn’t end up like Leopold. If that were the case, she would have to turn her badge in along with Lenny. First off, because she could never arrest or fault the guy. Even if taking the law into your own hands wasn’t exactly what being an officer of the law was about. Secondly, because she would help him pursue the bastard if it came to that.
Walking down the hallway, the click clack of Sara’s stilettos on the ceramic tile floor was the only sound echoing in the air. With her hand on her gun, she cleared every room left in the house, carefully stepping around the blood smear in the hallway. She would circle back around after the all clear to collect any evidence.
Going into the darkroom, there weren’t really any signs of a struggle. She collected the Nikon camera and placed it into an evidence bag, as well as a roll of film that was lying on the metal table. She carefully started dusting the table as well as the door handle for prints. There were a couple, which she carefully lifted. Thank goodness that Tessa was a good housekeeper, otherwise she could have spent all night collecting fingerprints. Inspecting the few that were collected, her instincts told her that these prints had to be Tessa’s. Much too small for a male. Besides, the intruder more than likely wore gloves, or was careful to wipe any prints he may have left. As far as she knew, nothing had been found on the vic, or Katy rather from this morning.
Moving out into the hallway, she swabbed the blood sample, and sealed the long wooden q-tip in a cylindrical collection tube. Hearing movement out toward the kitchen area, she unlatched her gun and quietly slipped off her shoes. Creeping down the hallway with her gun drawn, she thought if this were the perp returning to the scene of the crime, it was almost too easy. Easing around the corner, she spotted an elderly gentleman standing at the kitchen island with a butter knife in his hand, and a gun sitting on the kitchen island in front of him.