Perhaps it’s a trap, he thought. If they somehow connected him without enough evidence to arrest him, then it stands to reason that they would follow him to try and catch him in the act. Years of therapy taught him that being delusional wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. What’s the phrase, he thought, then said aloud, laughter edging his voice, “just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you.”
Regardless of his mental health issues, someone was definitely following him, that much was clear. After circling the block again, he headed off in the direction of the Bay Bridge. Sure enough, the car stayed with him, even through rush hour traffic.
Certain that he was on the right track, he nabbed the first open parking spot he came across. Street parking was like gold in the city, so he felt confident that this maneuver would complicate his shadow’s ability to monitor him.
He needed time to think, to contemplate his next move. A busy coffee shop on a populated side street seemed the perfect place to formulate a plan. While waiting at the cross walk, he noted, with satisfaction, the dark blue Ford coming down the road again. They could circle the block for days, he thought, he could still elude them if he wanted.
Settled at a corner table with a drink and a biscotti, Jonathan began to compartmentalize the days past, moment by moment. His first concern was if the entity following him knew where he lived. Thinking back to this morning, he tried to visualize the blue Ford on the street outside the house, or following him to collect Jerry. Nothing registered, but that didn’t mean the car had not been there.
Thinking of Jerry, could she possibly be in on the plan to capture him? Or was she simply an unwitting pawn for some government agency? She was so lovely, so perfect for him, he had trouble imagining her working in some bland, bureaucratic office.
No, he thought, she had to be an unsuspecting participant in their little capture plan. She would never betray him that way. Still, he had to make a decision about whether or not to continue on his path, or to abandon the budding romance altogether.
Thoughts of leaving Jerry before their last adventure together made him physically ill. Just as she would not betray him, he would not betray her. They would have their special time together, he would simply be more careful.
First and foremost, he could not let the shadow know that he was onto them. He would go home, get ready for dinner, and take Jerry out as planned. Tomorrow’s baseball game would be the perfect place to make the necessary alterations to his own game plan. Smiling, he tipped the waitress and strolled back to his car.
Chapter Eighteen
The shrill ring of his cell phone brought Ethan out of a dreamless sleep. He’d only just drifted off, having spoken with Jerry for hours after her dinner with Jonathan.
“What?” He growled without looking at the screen.
“Barnes? It’s Jamison. You up?” The gravelly voice of his superior officer brought Ethan fully awake. The man never made contact, unless there was trouble.
“I am now, sir. What’s happening?” Ethan flipped on the light switch, hoping to shatter the feeling of dread, blossoming in his gut.
“You alone?” Jamison was a man of few words.
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s the Anson brothers. They’ve escaped.”
“How the hell did that happen? They were locked up tight in the psychiatric ward at Portlaoise.”
“Long story. Suffice it to say that they’re out, and they’re gunning for you.” Ethan heard the flick of a lighter as Jamison lit a cigar. “We need you back here, pronto.”
“But sir, we’re near the end of this case, I’d like to see it through.” Ethan’s mind reeled at the thought of leaving Jerry in the clutches of a madman.
“The Yanks can wrap that up, you’re going deep underground, protective custody, while we figure out where these lunatics will strike next.”
“All due respect, sir, do you really think they’ll track me to California in the next few days?”
“It’s a distinct possibility. They’ve been monitoring your activity for the past year. They know which case you’re working. We found pictures of you and that agent, Jerry Forbes, in their cell.”
“Jerry? They had pictures of Jerry? How?”
“We’re working on it. The only people we know that they’ve been in contact with are the prison guards, and their psychiatric team. Obviously, there’s a mole.”
“Have they killed since the escape?”
“Two prison guards and a taxi driver, so far.”
“Dammit. If they left pictures, they want me to know I’m a target.”
“The pictures are not all they left behind. Before I tell you the rest, know that we’ve already placed your family under protective custody.”
“My family? How did they make the connection to my family?” Ethan’s voice boomed in the quiet hotel room.
“The tech department discovered a breach in security last week, but it appeared that no files were accessed. We now know that several personnel files were copied, including yours.”
Ethan’s mind raced. He knew he had to leave, but what could he tell Jerry that would keep her safe? The Ansons were the worst of the worst; he had to remove the target from Jerry and keep her from following him to Europe. Stubborn as she was, she’d insist on helping him recapture the twins, especially if she knew how much danger he’d be facing.
“I’ve heard enough. I’ll leave today.” Ethan’s voice was grim, knowing that the only way to keep Jerry safe was to break her heart, but he couldn’t do it alone.
~~~
Ethan sat in the nearly empty diner, waiting for Dylan to show up. The weight of what he was about to ask of the man, and the resulting destruction to his and Jerry’s relationship, sat heavy on his shoulders.
“What in the hell is so important that it couldn’t wait a few hours? The sun’s not even up.” Dylan straggled into the diner, ready for a fight. Ethan’s phone call took him from a very nice dream, one of a blond-haired beauty, and a sultry southern beach.
“I need your help.” Ethan slid a steaming cup of coffee towards him. “It’s for Jerry. Drink up.” He nodded towards the mug.
Dylan read the quiet desperation, and something else, on Ethan’s face; pain mixed with determination. Whatever had caused Slick to get him out of bed was serious. He sipped the coffee and waited.
“Two years ago, I was instrumental in capturing the Anson brothers, twins who thrived on torturing, maiming, and murdering, random men and women in England, Ireland and Scotland.” Ethan began without preamble. “Their killing spree lasted for more than six months, primarily because we weren’t aware that they were twins. The only pattern we could detect was that there was no pattern. One day, a woman was raped and mutilated in the hills of Scotland, the same afternoon, a teenage boy suffered the same fate in the heart of London. We knew the murders were connected, the M.O.’s were the same, but the distance, and the time span for the torture of each victim, made it impossible for one person to commit both crimes.” Ethan took a breath. “Also, video surveillance showed the same person, or so we thought, in both locations around the times of the murders. Instead of searching for twins, we focused the investigation on means of transportation between the two locations, which cost us valuable time.”
“During the course of their killing spree, two victims, each tortured and killed in the same way, always turned up on the same day, hundreds of miles apart. The only time the brothers varied their M.O was toward the end of the spree, when they came together to slaughter the family of the lead investigator on the case.” Ethan ran his hands over his eyes. Images of the carnage would haunt him forever.
“Why are you telling me this? What does it have to do with Jerry?” Dylan prompted, shaking Ethan from the nightmarish memories.
Ethan ignored the questions and continued his spiel. “I took over the investigation at that point, the lead obviously could not continue. Long story short, we captured them not long afterward, and they vow
ed revenge on me as the head of the task force. As you know, a prisoner spouting off is nothing new, so I dismissed the threat, especially as they were sentenced to life in the psychiatric ward of Portlaoise.”
“That’s one of the most secure prisons in Europe.” Dylan nodded. “But why the psychiatric ward?”
“If you’d seen the butchery they left behind, especially when they slaughtered the officer’s family, you’d know that no sane person could do that to other humans, or animals, for that matter.” Ethan shuddered. “I’m giving you this background so you can understand why I need your help to keep Jerry safe. They’ve escaped. We don’t know how yet, but they were always very clever. Pictures of Jerry and me were found in their cell. Apparently, they’ve been tracking my movements for the past year. They also have information on my family, thanks to a hack job at Interpol.”
Dylan sat in silence, understanding of both Ethan’s need for help, and the vision of a devastated Jerry, dawning clear.
“You’re leaving.” He said simply.
“Today. I can’t tell Jerry why, or she’ll want to go with me. She can’t know the danger I’m in, and she can’t follow me. She’ll be safer if it appears that I’ve cut all ties with her, that this was just an assignment, and that she means nothing to me.” Ethan’s voice caught on his last words. Dylan pretended not to notice.
“So you want me to help you break her heart.” He stated, knowing it was the only way to keep Jerry from finding out the truth.
“Yes. If you can think of another way to keep her away from me until I catch those bastards again, I’d like to hear it.”
Dylan considered Ethan’s dilemma. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jerry would try to help him, if she knew the truth. He trusted Ethan’s instincts, and knowledge of the killers, enough to trust that Jerry needed to stay far away, in order not to be a target. Like Ethan, he could see no other way to protect her, than to convince her that Ethan was a lying scumbag.
“What do you want me to do?” Dylan asked quietly.
“I’m afraid that if I simply disappear, she’ll suspect something is not right. I have to convince her that I’m a bastard. That’s where you come in.”
“I can get behind that.” Dylan smiled wryly, not at all happy with being complicit in lying to Jerry, even if it was for her own good.
“I thought you might. One thing, before we start. No one else can know about the ruse, not Nate, not anyone at all. There’s a leak somewhere, and until we know who and where, this has to be just between us.”
“Agreed, but Nate is no leak.”
“I’m not saying that he is, but the fewer people who know the truth, the better.” Ethan waited for Dylan’s nod of agreement. “The first thing we have to do is get Jerry some proof that I’m a cheat.” Ethan cringed when he said the word, then continued. “Pictures of me with other women will work, I think, especially if they’re time-stamped within the past week.”
“Where do you propose we find these women? It’s still not even sunrise.”
“That works in our favor. We’ll start with Allison, our lovely waitress.” Ethan nodded in the direction of the bored-looking young woman, wiping down the counter. “A few hundred dollars, a new dress, the right setting, and voila, we’ve got a romantic date.”
“How many women are you thinking?”
“Three should do it. We’ll take photos with the other two this morning, at different places in the city. I’ll call an escort service for the other women, should make it quick and easy.”
“And I’m supposed to show her the pictures after you leave?” Dylan knew the idea was solid.
“Yes, after you wrap up Casanova. I do not want her distracted.” Ethan grabbed Dylan’s wrist in a vice-like grip. “I’m trusting you to keep her safe for the remainder of this assignment.”
Dylan read Ethan’s desperation and nodded. “I’ll make sure she comes out of this alive. You have my word.”
Ethan searched Dylan’s eyes before releasing his grip. “Thank you.”
Dylan nodded. “Are you walking away from her for good, or until you capture the Ansons?”
“One thing I know for sure is that Jerry is my soul mate. I’ll be back for her, if she’ll have me.” Ethan sat back, resigned to his immediate fate, while refusing to give up on a future with Jerry. “You have to help convince her that I lied, that I was simply playing a role. I may also need your help in the future, when I try to get her back.”
“The only reason I’m doing this is because I know Jerry. If she has one inkling that you’re in danger, she’ll be on the next plane to find you. I’ll make sure she believes that you lied, but as for the future, I’m not making any promises. If, when you do return, I think that she’s better off without you, I won’t help you get near her.”
“If I think she’s better off without me, I won’t come back.” Ethan said quietly. “Get your camera. I’ll start working on the waitress.”
Chapter Nineteen
Jerry glanced around, unobtrusively, as Elliott led her to the private elevator that would whisk them both to their exclusive box seats. She hadn’t spoken with Dylan, or Ethan, all morning, which was more than a little unusual. Nate had assured her that the ball game was covered, but he couldn’t say exactly who would be watching over her.
Jonathan saw Jerry glance around from the corner of his eye. He was not as sure today that she would not betray him. A long night of devising strategies, and making plans for their final adventure together, had left him surprisingly alert to every nuance of her body language, expressions and breathing patterns. He felt an underlying tension from her, which belied her relaxed demeanor. Totally confident that he was reading her correctly, he became even more certain that she was more like Beth than he initially thought. She would betray him at the first opportunity.
Smiling down at her as they rode the elevator up, he mentally covered the exit strategy he’d devised, one that would take her away from under the noses of whoever was stalking them.
Jerry had felt a change in Jonathan/Elliott from the moment he ushered her into his car. A subtle difference in the way he carried himself, more confident, if that was possible, and more stealthy. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up, but she could determine no obvious reason for her discomfort. It was too soon in the timeline for Jonathan to make his move. Also, they were attending a very public game, not on a trek through the woods.
The well-appointed box contained everything they could want, while observing a baseball game. An elegant table, laden with food, stood adjacent to a well-stocked bar. Plush seats, to accommodate twenty, lined the front glass enclosure. Four other small groups milled around the room, each group acknowledged the new arrivals with polite nods, when the elevator door slid open.
“Friends of yours?” Jerry asked in a quiet aside.
“No. Friends of friends. I thought you’d be more comfortable here than in the bleachers with the masses.” He neglected to mention that he wouldn’t be caught dead in the folding seats reserved for common ticketholders.
“Thank you, this is wonderful.” Jerry smiled warmly at Jonathan and placed her hand on his arm.
“Would you like a drink?” He offered, guiding her to the seating area. “How about champagne?”
“That sounds lovely,” Jerry perched on the edge of the seat.
“I’ll be back shortly.” Jonathan kissed her hand before releasing it.
Jerry took the opportunity to study the room while Jonathan was gone. The only exits were the elevator, and a door marked ‘Stairs’ at the end of a long hallway, just beyond the restrooms.
By the time Jonathan came back with their drinks, people were taking seats and preparing for the first pitch.
Jerry arranged the delicate pin she wore clipped to her Hermes scarf, so that the camera angle would take in the field. If Ethan and Dylan weren’t here, she could at least let them see some of the game.
Jonathan watched her fidget with her scarf
and became more convinced that she was nervous about her betrayal.
The drug hit Jerry within the first few sips of champagne. The room began to spin, and the only stable force she could find was Jonathan’s embrace.
Jonathan held her close, murmuring platitudes, as he braced her body against his, and helped her from the room, all the while smiling apologetically at the nearby fans who noticed. As soon as they reached the hallway, Jonathan swept Jerry into his arms and carried her toward the exit.
Jerry’s head lolled against the soft fabric of Jonathan’s shoulder. It felt as if she were flying, suspended in forward movement along a long, empty hallway. Her body felt lifeless, she was completely unable to move, even her finger. The camera pin was pressed against his chest, offering a view of brown fibers to the watchful agents.
~~~
“We’ve got a malfunction.” Rodney, pulling double duty as a monitor as he sat in the agency car, parked outside of the ballpark, called Dylan as soon as the image from Jerry’s pin camera became fuzzy.
“What do you mean a malfunction?” Dylan, weary from the morning’s extracurricular activities with Ethan, and heartsick about his role in the whole thing, didn’t bother to hide his aggravation.
“I don’t know. It looked like Jerry started for the hallway off of the main room, when the screen started wobbling. As soon as she reached the edge of the room, the screen turned brown and fibrous.”
“What do you hear?” Dylan became instantly alert.
“Nothing, not even background noise.”
“Is the camera moving at all?”
“Now it is. Looks like it’s bobbing up and down, but we’ve still got nothing but a brown image.”
“Hold on.” Switching to a different phone, he called Moretti, one of the agents charged with following Jerry and Jonathan this morning. “Do you have eyes on the target?” He demanded without preamble.
“Negative. They went inside a private box. We’re outside the elevator door.”
“Dammit. What was the unsub wearing?”
“Brown jacket, khaki slacks, and an open-collar shirt.”
Casanova Killer, An SSCD Crime Thriller Page 17