Every Breath You Take

by Robert Winter

  The few people still in the bar grumbled but started to collect coats from the check room. “Come back tomorrow, and your first drink is on the house,” Randy called. He went to Malcolm and said in a low voice, “Check out early, kid. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  He helped Miss Ethel into her coat a few minutes later, and as she was the last, he showed her out and locked the front door behind her.

  Immediately he moved around the room and tried to picture the angle from the photo of him serving a drink. He paused along one wall of the room to look at the bar from where he stood. The sight line seemed nearly correct but… too high. He crouched to get the right height and looked under the counter that ran around the wall there. He found the camera right away.

  He was careful not to dislodge it, but he studied the mechanism. It wasn’t his specialty, but he was reasonably sure it was image only—no sound capability. With his cell phone, he snapped a picture of the camera so he could check further.

  He continued to search the perimeter of the bar and eventually found a total of four cameras, all positioned in such a way that they could see the bar and two of the side rooms. The mounting was amateurish—basically double-sided duct tape held the small cameras in place. That told him Rumson had acted in a hurry with each installation. Tape would wear out, so it had probably been there no more than two or three months. That added up—he hadn’t seen the man with the shaggy blond hair and silver-framed glasses in several weeks. If Rumson had eyes in place, there was no need for him to risk discovery by returning.

  Randy went back to his office and searched again while Thomas watched him with wide eyes. He checked under his desk and in every corner, but he found no other cameras. He looked at the phone on his desk and considered it. If Rumson had been unable to get into his office to place a camera, it was highly unlikely he had a way to tap the phone. No point in taking chances, though. He’d stick to his cell.

  Thomas watched him, clearly desperate for guidance, so Randy spoke with all the authority instilled in him during a twenty-five-year career in law enforcement. “Right. There are four cameras in the bar, but I don’t believe Rumson could hear what went on. Image only. Nothing in here either.”

  “But my car. My apartment.” Thomas seemed close to shock.

  “Yes, those are bugged. We should assume he had more time and possibly better equipment. We’re going to want to check that.”

  “He said no police.”

  “Exactly. What does that tell you?” Randy asked. He wanted to engage Thomas, to keep him focused and to keep him from giving in to his fear.

  “He knows the police were here. He mentioned the ‘bitch’…. He must have seen Detective Torres come in a few times.”

  “Good. Agreed. But he only said ‘police.’ If he knew my background, he would probably have said something else, like no FBI.”

  Thomas looked up at him sharply with a spark of hope in his eyes. “Can you get help there? Do you still have contacts?”

  “I do. Some, anyway, that might help me. Here’s what I’m thinking. The office isn’t bugged, and I don’t think my cell phone can be bugged either. No opportunity. I want to try Joe first about a last name for Sam, and then call a former colleague of mine in the Secret Service. Use her as a conduit to Torres. But I’m making this plan as I go along, Thomas. I need to know if you’re on board.”

  “If we’re wrong, he’ll…. Oh God, he’ll hurt Zach.”

  Randy held his gaze. “Thomas, he’ll definitely hurt Zachary if we do nothing. Maybe more than just hurt. This is a risk, but it’s what I’ve got. You tell me what you want me to do.”

  Thomas stared at him for a moment, weighing and calculating. Finally he stood up straight and gave a sharp nod of his head. “Do it, Randy.”

  Randy called Joe on his cell first and put it on speaker.

  “Joe Mulholland.” They heard the soft Boston accent.

  Randy said, “Joe, I’m sorry to be abrupt, but I have an important question. Did Zachary Hall tell you the name of the man he’s been seeing recently?”

  “Zachary?” Joe asked. “Let me think…. He said Sam, I believe.”

  “No last name?”

  “Not that I can recall. We tried to make dinner plans, actually, before the situation with Terry and me. It never happened.” Alarm crept into Joe’s voice. “Randall, what’s this about? Is Zachary safe?”

  “I’ll tell you more as soon as I know anything. I have to go.” Randy disconnected the call, knowing Joe would forgive his rudeness. “Strike one,” he muttered as he dialed his cell again and prayed Lily would pick up. The call connected, and he heard her voice.

  “Hey, RV. Twice in such a short time. That has to be a record,” she said.

  “Lily, I need help badly. I’m putting you on speaker.” He pressed the button on his cell and set it down on his desk. “I’m here with Jason Scarborough from the Rumson investigation. Rumson is still alive. He just called us here in my bar.”

  “Holy shit,” Lily exclaimed. “How did we miss it?”

  “I don’t know. Question for tomorrow. Right now, we know he has a hostage, a personal friend of Scarborough’s, and we believe he may have killed at least two people. He’s monitoring Scarborough, but I believe this is a safe channel. As soon as we disconnect, I’ll send you an image of the camera he used here in the bar. I’m hoping you can check the model and its capabilities to see if that gives us any clue. I don’t think he’s gotten devices into my office, but we’re on a clock here.”

  “What else do you need, Randy?” she asked. Right to the point—no bullshit—as he’d hoped.

  “Rumson knows we’ve been in contact with the Metro police. We can’t take a risk on contacting them directly because we don’t know what precautions he’s taken. I’d like you to call Detective Maria Torres and be our liaison. Here’s her number,” he said and read off the digits from her business card.

  “Got it. What does she need to know?”

  Randy described as succinctly as he could the relevant information from the call with Rumson.

  “Okay. Monitoring devices in Scarborough’s home and car,” she summarized. “I’d add most likely his phone as well.”

  Thomas seemed shocked. “I have a pretty high security clearance, and the phone I use is government-issued. How would he get through the encryption?”

  Lily answered, “Mr. Scarborough, no technology is perfect. With our protectees we like to scan phones at least once a month to compare to previous scans and identify any anomaly that might have appeared. We also change up the tech and security on a random basis to avoid the kind of hacking we’re hypothesizing. When was the last time your phone was examined by your tech support people?”

  “It might have been two, three months ago. Maybe longer. I’m chief counsel to a Senate committee, so I’m not normally at high risk for hackers.”

  Randy jumped in. “We can worry about the details later. For now I agree, we have to assume your phone is compromised. Lily, are you able to run some checks for us?”

  “You’re looking for possible locations for Rumson?” she guessed.

  “Exactly. He’s been coming into the bar in disguise, starting over two months ago. It’s possible he’s transient or staying in different hotels, but he grew up wealthy. Right, Thomas?”

  Thomas nodded and said aloud for Lily’s benefit, “Yes. His family estate was very large. I went there once for a benefit. And Randy, the money link you told me about….”

  Randy said, “Lily, remember I asked you about Rumson’s finances? We’re just speculating at this point, but there’s over six million dollars that moved from his personal accounts shortly after the date of his death. His mother told the officer who pursued that not to worry about it, but we have to assume he’s extremely well-funded. And he’s used to comfort.”

  “So a house, apartment, or long-term lease of some kind are possible. He wouldn’t use his own name, though. What do I search?”

  “We think our
friend Zachary has been seeing Rumson under an alias. He mentioned the name Sam.” Randy looked thoughtful. “Let’s try combinations of Charles and Sam and Jason with Rumson or Scarborough. He’s focused on you, Thomas, so maybe he pretends you’re married or something.”

  “Try Milliken too,” Thomas added. “That’s his mother’s maiden name.”

  They could hear Lily’s pen scratching, and she said, “Got it. Anything else before I call Detective Torres?”

  “Just make sure she stays away from the bar and from Thomas’s apartment and doesn’t call directly. We don’t have enough information to know what’s safe.”

  “Understood. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks, Lily. This is above and beyond,” Randy said.

  She sounded grim. “If we fucked up our investigation, I want to know how. I’ll take responsibility for cleaning up the paperwork later.”

  She disconnected, and Randy sent her the image he’d taken of the camera hidden in the bar. Thomas paced the office as Randy typed.

  “What if he’s hurt Zach already?” Thomas asked. “Randy, I have to do something.”

  “I know, buddy. Look. I’m reaching here, but this is different from Gallagher and that other one. Daniel Owen. Rumson chose to reveal himself to you and to let you know he has Zachary. I think that means something.”

  Thomas stopped walking and stared at Randy with haunted eyes. “Like he’s going to make me watch him hurt Zach?”

  “Maybe. But I think it means at least that he’s not going to do anything yet. Not until he contacts you again.”

  Thomas’s eyes flashed, and Randy could see him wrestling to apply his intelligence to the nightmare instead of running like a rabbit. “I need to go home, Randy. Right now.”

  “What?”

  “He’s only one man. Even if he has everything bugged, it’s going to be harder for him to keep track of both of us if we’re in different places. Add in the possibility that he’s monitoring Torres somehow. That’s three streams he has to watch if we separate.”

  Reluctantly Randy nodded. “That makes sense.”

  Thomas thrust his hands into his pants pocket and chewed his lip. “Should I look for cameras in my apartment?”

  “I think so,” Randy agreed slowly. “But be careful not to disturb them. The ones here are stuck on with tape.”

  “Okay. I can do that.”

  Randy looked around his office and cursed. “I don’t have a gun in here. There’s one out by the bar, but he’ll likely see it if I try to give that one to you. Do you own a gun, Thomas?”

  He shook his head. “No, I never saw the need.”

  “Another thing I’ll try to figure out. If… when I get any information from Lily, I don’t want to risk passing it along to you by phone or text.”

  “Let’s do this,” Thomas suggested. “Call my cell every hour and let it ring just twice if you have no information. If you let it ring three times, I’ll pick up to let you know I’m there, and then I’ll find a pay phone or something to call your cell back.”

  Randy nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. “This is good. We’re doing everything we can, Thomas. We’ll get the cocksucker.”

  Chapter 25

  ZACHARY FELT himself being dragged. His back burned along a broad stripe where it met the hardwood floor. His head pounded, especially on his left temple, and his mouth was dry. He couldn’t focus or understand what was happening.

  His arms and legs felt like lead. His arms…. Were they tied? He tried to move his wrists and realized he couldn’t. Then he tried to force his eyes open. Everything seemed blurry, and he was so tired. So tired….

  He felt himself heaved up onto a different surface. It squeaked under him, and someone positioned him and moved his body around so he lay on padded leather. The stripe across his back burned more as he was shifted around, and he tried to protest.

  He felt a hand bend his left leg, and something soft was wrapped around his ankle. The same thing happened to his right leg, and he realized he couldn’t move either one. When he tried to sit up, his head immediately began to swim, and he muttered, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  He heard a chuckle above him and tried again to focus his eyes. It dawned on him that he was naked and cold. Something was happening across his chest. He felt more leather and a metal buckle pressed against his skin. A strap was tightened and locked into place. He couldn’t move his upper body.

  A pad was placed around his left wrist, and then he heard a click. The rope that had bound his wrists together was removed, and he tried to flail with his freed right hand, only to have it grabbed and forced down. Again something soft wrapped around his wrist, there was another click, and then he was unable to move his arms.

  “There we are,” a satisfied voice said. “Almost ready.”

  “S-Sam?” he asked, and he heard another chuckle.

  “Sam doesn’t live here anymore.”

  Zachary tried again to get his eyes to focus. He saw Sam leaning over him, and a wide grin split his mouth as he stared down. Something dark and terrible burned in his brown eyes.

  “Sam, what’s happening?” He pulled at his legs and his arms and only then understood he was completely immobilized.

  “We haven’t been properly introduced. Call me Charles,” Sam said. Or Charles did? Zachary’s head hurt so badly he couldn’t think.

  “Why can’t I move?” he tried again.

  “You can’t move because I have a present for you, and I need you to be in just the right position to enjoy it,” Charles said in a tone one might use for a small child. He adjusted the strap across Zachary’s chest and pulled it tighter, pinching his skin and making him groan.

  “I’m naked.”

  “Yes, you are, you little whore. I need Jason to see you for what you are before I give you my present.”

  Charles? Jason? Zachary understood nothing that was happening, and he moaned. “Please let me go, Sam.”

  Charles slapped his cheek hard. “Not Sam. Charles. I won’t tell you again.”

  The sharp sting helped Zachary focus for a moment, and then he wished it hadn’t. Charles, Sam, whoever—he had to be the one who killed those two men. And he had Zachary trapped.

  He trembled in cold and fear. He pulled on his arms and legs with all of his might and rocked as he tried to make the surface he was strapped to fall over. It barely budged, and Charles smiled with deep satisfaction. He sat back on his heels and ran his eyes over Zachary’s bound body with malice and glee.

  “Perfect,” he muttered. “Jason will finally know what a piece of trash you really are.”

  Zachary thought he needed to try to be calm. Get Sam, or Charles, talking. “Who… who is Jason?” he asked.

  “Jason, Thomas…. It doesn’t matter what he calls himself. I found him again.”

  “Thomas is coming here?” Zachary asked as a surge of hope rushed through him.

  “Eventually. I need him to see what a disgusting display you’ll make. How you’ll beg for it. That’s important before we’re done with you and able to move on.” Charles’s voice trembled slightly, and his eyes were lit with a manic glow.

  “You don’t have to hurt me, Charles. I’ll go away and leave Thomas, uh, Jason alone,” Zachary said, and he made his eyes wide as he tried to convince Charles of his sincerity.

  Charles just sighed and projected insincere regret. “Ah, Zachary. If only that would work. But Jason thinks he loves you, don’t you see?”

  Zachary shook his head frantically. “No. He never told me he loves me. We only got together a few times.”

  “Well, you don’t know him like I do.” His mouth grew hard. “Nobody knows him like I do. With the others I knew he was just testing me. He’d fuck them and send them away. But I knew. He was marking them out for me as a way to test whether I really loved him. To see if I would do what needed to be done. And I finally understood, but I was careless. The first one led too easily back to Jason.”

>   “Gallagher? The one Thomas, uh, Jason slept with?”

  Charles shook his head ruefully. “I was too eager, having finally found Jason again after so long. I saw that creature leave with him one night, and the next week he was back, panting again after Jason like a bitch in heat. I think Jason knew I was there, though, even in my disguise. He turned the creature away—dismissed him like I knew he would. Then that boy had the audacity to challenge him. He threw a drink at Jason before he left. That could not stand, so I showed him the error of his ways. I showed him why Jason could never be his.”

  Got to keep him talking. The longer he talks, maybe Thomas will come and help me. “What about the other one? Owen or something? Thom—Jason said he never met him. What was his error?”

  Charles sighed. “That was my own devising, rather than a challenge that Jason set for me. When the police showed up at Mata Hari, I realized my mistake. I needed to draw their attention away from Jason. I did feel bad, though. The boy really had done nothing wrong. But he was a convenient age and build—a bit like the cretin who had accosted Jason—and he left that bar alone.” His face hardened as he met Zachary’s eyes again. “I regret it, but there is nothing I would not do for Jason. Nothing.”

  “Why me? Charles, I learned my error, didn’t I? I stayed away from Jason?”

  “Oh no, silly man. You went back and interfered with his pleasure with the handsome young black man, and that was error enough.”

  Marcus. He means the night Thomas was going to leave with that man, Marcus, but changed his mind.

  “I was so close to getting you that night,” Charles said as he shook his head. “You were alone in the parking lot, drunk like a whore, staggering toward the street. I got out of my car and then”—his voice trembled in rage—“Jason followed you.”

  Zachary remembered it so clearly, even through the haze of the alcohol he had consumed that night. He remembered the nearly deserted parking lot, the bottle rolling on its side. He heard again the sound of a car door opening. Oh God.