Deadly Obsession

by Jack Parker

  "Nothing."

  "Well, you must've noticed something. I know how you are. You tend to notice things and they stick with you until you can piece together enough information to decipher the meaning behind it." he said. Again, his tenacious questioning was backing me into a corner, forcing me to part with information I rather would have kept to myself.

  "I hadn't seen him at all in the weeks before he left." I admitted.

  "It was my understanding that you were a consultant that reported to him, though. What did he have you doing that kept you two out of contact for weeks?"

  I knew what question he was going to ask next, and I knew what answer I would have to give. I also knew what his reaction would be to my answer. I slowly exhaled in an effort to calm some of my nerves and then I answered his question.

  "I was in the hospital the past week and a half." I replied reluctantly.

  "Michael! You were in the hospital for over a week and you never thought to get a hold of me?" he angrily responded.

  "I was in a coma." I explained. Telling him that was almost worse than telling him I had been hospitalized for over a week. Because now all of that anger he had turned into pity.

  "Oh my God! I didn't know it was that serious. I'm sorry." he apologized, but then he decided to keep pressing for information. "How did it happen?"

  "It was the blast wave from an explosion that knocked me unconscious." I began to say. "And before you get all worried on me, I came out of it perfectly fine. No lingering effects or anything like that. Nothing life threatening. So I don't want you to overreact here and make a scene over nothing."

  "Okay, okay! I'll quit pressing on that issue." he held his hands up in defeat. "Still, someone should've gotten a hold of me. Don't they usually contact the next of kin in situations like this?"

  "I was with the police when it happened, and Kari was also there. I guess they figured she would call anyone that needed to be contacted."

  "Another reason I need to meet this friend of yours. She probably forgot I existed." he said, once again pressing the point he had been earlier. But before I even thought of a response to his statement, he changed the subject. "Wait a second… this was the same guy that resigned from the same position in Denver suddenly too right?"

  "Yes." I confirmed.

  "He resigned under odd circumstances then, and he just did the same thing today. It's reasonable to think the motives for both resignations are connected." he stated casually, "Did you find any clues that might help narrow down why he might've left?"

  I shook my head. Technically it was a lie, because there were a lot of things I found out regarding the Chief that I hadn't mentioned in this conversation. Maybe those clues meant something. Maybe they didn't. There could have easily been a completely different side of the story that I hadn't yet uncovered which explained everything. Or maybe I was just one fact away from the truth. There was no way to know.

  "I doubt that, Michael." he said with a smirk. He knew I was lying?

  "Why?"

  "Because I remember last year when you asked me to look into Dan Taylor, you had that look in your eye that you get when something is bothering you. So I found everything I could on the police chief and I never heard about it from you again." he explained, "You wouldn't go to such lengths to find out about a person only to give up right before you get to the end. So that means only one of two things: either you already knew something and made the connection just after I gave you everything I knew about Taylor, or you found something after."

  As my head hung low, nearly touching the table, I wondered why he suddenly was interested in Taylor's disappearance. But it didn't matter, he was right. He called my 'bluff', so I decided that I would tell him the whole story. I looked up, making eye contact and said, "Maybe it's a little of both."

  "Go on…" he said encouragingly.

  "Okay." I began to say, gathering up the rest of my nerve before continuing. "There was this case we worked on where a guy that was involved in a drug ring was shot in his car. This DEA agent investigating the drug ring was one of the main suspects. He was the type that took the law into his own hands. He thought that because he had a badge it meant he was God. I'm sure you are familiar with the type."

  "Of course." he confirmed with a small laugh. My dad, being an attorney with plenty of courtroom experience, has dealt with all kinds of authority figures both good and bad.

  "Taylor brought him to the station to informally ask him about his involvement with the murder. I guess he was under the impression that he was going to help us with the case, not be accused of a crime. He soon figured it out he was really being interrogated and quickly got defensive. He kept saying that he didn't do it, but at the same time you could tell he didn't feel any remorse that the guy died."

  "Well, being in law enforcement, you tend to not care as much when the bad guy gets killed." he pointed out.

  His comment reminded me of the Vigilante Killer. Everywhere he went he spouted off that the FBI agents trying to catch him didn't have the motivation to do so. I hated to admit that maybe he was right. They went through the motions, and I'm sure guys like Agent Foster actually wanted to catch this guy just so they wouldn't have to deal with the embarrassment of a serial killer being on the run for over three years. But there was just that extra level of focus they weren't putting themselves in because they didn't care enough.

  "Yeah…" I half-heartedly replied. "Taylor seemed to get mad that the DEA agent was so indifferent about the victim dying. He got right in the man's face and told him that this man that died had a son, who will now grow up without one of his parents. The agent didn't even bat an eye and mentioned that it was probably doing the kid a favor. Before he could take his next breath, Taylor came completely unglued. Next thing I know he's throwing the DEA agent up against the wall in anger."

  "I'm sure he's gotten mad at a suspect before." said my father, leaning back in his chair.

  "Not like this." I replied. "He gets mad at suspects but it's always a ploy to get them to talk. This was just him being angry. I actually thought for a while it was just because he didn't like people that abused their authority and did things off the book. But then later on when they met again he didn't react in the same way. Not that he was nice to him, but he didn't throw him up against the wall again either. For months I tried to find some clue that might explain his behavior, but it wasn't until you offered to repay a favor that I was able to get anywhere."

  "I see."

  "But I put it all together just after you told me about his previous history. Later that day I happened to be in Taylor's office alone. Curiosity got the best of me and I decided to take a look around." I reluctantly said. I basically just admitted to snooping on my boss behind his back. "I found this old picture dated nearly a decade ago with him, a woman about his age and a kid. It looked like a family photo."

  "Wait… he's married? He has a wife?" he asked, completely taken back by the news.

  "Had." I corrected him. "I turned the photo over and there was a note that said 'It's over. I'm taking Marty with me. Don't try to find us.'"

  "So his wife ran off and took his son with her. He must've taken it hard and that's why he resigned and ran off the way he did." my dad came to the same conclusion I did months ago. "I guess it's possible he resigned yesterday for similar reasons."

  "It's possible." I said. I hid my face so that he wouldn't be able to tell that I was lying again. Because I didn't think he left for the same reason, unless there was something about this story that I wasn't aware of. And besides, right before he resigned he brought that tape into the media expert at the station and he told me it had something to do with the Vigilante. I didn't want to bring up this new information with my father. I convinced myself that the reason was because I didn't yet know what this new evidence meant, and until I did all we could do was throw theories around that we couldn't prove.

  "Wow…" was all he said. I was certainly confused by his reaction. It looked like he was very
deep in thought for a moment, and then all of the sudden he started laughing.

  "What?" I asked.

  "You are good at this." he replied.

  "Thank you… I guess." I didn't really know what to say.

  "There is nothing wrong with being proud of yourself, Michael." he said in a lecturing tone. "I've obviously seen you in action before, but this was different. This wasn't even a case you were paid to work on and look at how much you've uncovered by yourself. You know… I could probably help you get another job doing this sort of thing if you want. I've dealt with my fair share of law enforcement and private detective agencies that could use someone like you. An endorsement from me would probably get your foot in the door. After that I'm sure you would prove yourself to be a valued member of the team."

  I sounded like a nice proposition, but I would have to turn it down. I'm sure it wouldn't be that bad if I just happened to land into the job like I kind of did being a consultant for the police. But to have to go out and get another job would be so much more stressful. The interview alone would be nerve racking. But if I made it through that even, they would want me to impress them early on. With Taylor, he went out of his way to accommodate me. I never had to question witnesses or interrogate suspects. Usually through text messaging he would ask any question I might think of for me. He was also very good at not putting me in situations in which he knew I would be uncomfortable. Realistically I couldn't expect to get that kind of treatment somewhere else.

  "Actually, I think I might give my old boss in Chicago a call. I had fun at that company, and I already have a reputation there. I wouldn't be some unknown guy at the bottom of the totem pole." I said.

  "So you are leaving too? That's too bad." he said. He seemed genuinely disappointed that I was going to potentially leave Houston.

  "It won't be the end of the world. And we seem to fight all the time as it is, anyway. You probably want a break from that." I pointed out.

  "We've had our share of disagreements, and I'll admit your antics can be frustrating sometimes just like I'm sure that I frustrate you all the time, but I'll still miss you. I missed you all that time you were gone before." he admitted. "I'll miss having someone to come to if a client of mine is accused of something he didn't do and the evidence is against him. I'll miss talks like these. And I hope you'll miss them too."

  I froze for a moment, not really knowing what to say. Last night when I was having dinner with Kari I stopped myself from saying 'I'm going to miss you' because I didn't want to miss anyone. I just wanted to survive this and move on. This whole tragedy that started with Chief Taylor resigning from his position, and then Kari and I getting fired only for her to get a job the same day that would take her across the world… it just reminded me what I've known all my life. Everything eventually ends, and it usually ends badly. Things change. People move onto different things and leave for a variety of perfectly sound reasons. Saying you'll miss someone just makes it harder to adjust when they are gone.

  The end of the lunch meeting with my father went off with no more interesting events. By the time I left Tropiocas I found myself in a much better mood than I had been when I arrived. I realized that I wouldn't be returning to the station to work on the latest case like I used to. The reminder that I was out of a job normally would have been a downer, but of the three major recent changes in my life, that was by far the easiest one to adjust to. I had the entire day ahead of me, so I thought of what my plans might be.

  Maybe I could get business out of the way and call my former boss already. If things turned out well, I might be working on their newest project within a couple of days. Normally I don't try to make rushed decisions, but there was nothing really keeping me in Houston anymore. Kari would be gone in a couple of weeks. I could break the news and we could have one last get-together before I left. Taylor was M.I.A and there was no sign of him coming back.

  My dad said he would miss me. I'd be leaving him behind… again. But this would be different. This time I wouldn't be consciously trying to avoid him. He was free to fly up to Chicago for a visit every now and then, and I could certainly fly down here every once in a while as well. And he still had my cell phone number and email address if he had something important to say.

  That only left the Vigilante Killer. I was taking off without figuring that one out. I was taking off without finding out why Taylor resigned as the Chief of Police. I was leaving a lot of unanswered questions on the table. Why did the Taylor have a tape with the Vigilante Killer's voice? How did I know what the Vigilante looked like when no one involved in the case had seen his face before? And why would he use a bomb to protect a hideout of his when he had no previous history of using bombs and no previous history of violence towards 'innocent' people?

  Those were all answers I would never uncover. And sure, it bothered me that I would never know, but at some point you have to realize when it is time to give up. I was out of moves. There weren't any more people I could talk to for help. All of the information I could find publically had already been found. Any information that wasn't public was in the possession of the FBI, and those guys wouldn't let me access anything if I was no longer working with them.

  I was about to call my old boss when suddenly my cell phone rang in my hand, nearly scaring me. The phone didn't identify the number, so that meant it was someone that wasn't on my contact list. The most likely person was someone from the police department. Maybe they wanted me back for some reason? Or maybe it was someone that would normally call me on their cell phone, but for some reason had to use another phone. What if Taylor was trying to get a hold of me after losing his phone? At that thought I quickly answered.

  "Hello?" I asked, hoping the caller would identify himself.

  "We meet at last… Puzzle-Boy." said the person on the other end of the phone. His chilling voice was unmistakable.

  "T-th-the Vigilante?" I stuttered a bit as I got the words out.

  "Got it in one try, I'm impressed." he responded, almost sarcastically. This was technically our first conversation, but when I was in a coma I vividly remembered hearing his voice and having conversations with him there. That was the only reason I was familiar with how his voice sounded.

  "I-I guess so." was what I ended up saying. He completely caught me off guard. I didn't know what he wanted or why he called. Maybe there was some angle he was playing that I wasn't aware of. All of these question marks served to drive my anxiety even higher. And much as I didn't want to appear nervous on the phone with the Vigilante Killer, nothing I was doing was helping.

  "You are probably wondering why I called." he said.

  "I guess so…" I said. Those words worked for me last time so I stuck with them.

  "Ever since your little speech on revenge in that SUV while you were riding towards one of my hideouts, I've been intrigued by you. It was really the first time I heard you have an opinion involving my crime spree." he said.

  I remembered that speech. It was just me, Taylor and Kari in the car maybe an hour before the bomb went off that put me in the hospital. We happened to be talking about the case, and the topic turned into whether or not you could pull the trigger on someone that wronged you. I adamantly said no. I also said I wouldn't be able to let someone else, like the Vigilante Killer, kill the person for me. I didn't believe in revenge in any shape or form.

  "W-wait… how did you-" I began to say, wondering how he had heard my 'speech'.

  "You should know by now I have ears everywhere, Puzzle-Boy." he reminded me before continuing on. "Most law enforcement authorities are motivated by either ambition or justice. So either they want to succeed so they can climb higher up the employment ladder, or they want to solve the case to save the damsel in distress. For everyone it's one or the other. But not you. You are different."

  "I-I don't understand." I stammered nervously.

  "It doesn't matter. That's not why I'm calling. I'm calling to tell you that I sent you a present." he finally revealed. When I hea
rd the word 'present', I immediately became paranoid as to the meaning of the phrase.

  "What do you mean?" I wondered.

  "I emailed you the videos of every scumbag I've killed."

  "Why?" I asked curiously. It was like he was helping me catch him. There had to have been a reason.

  "I gave the same videos to the FBI so that they could have a head start at catching me. You for a brief moment in time worked the case with them, but now that they let you go you no longer have access to the videos that they do. I'm just giving you the same benefits they had."

  "That's not why." I said, sounding a little more confident in myself now that I had a clue what was going on.

  I didn't know what his motives were, but I knew that it wasn't simply because he wanted to give me the same fair playing field he gave the FBI. The real reason he gave the videos to the FBI was so that they would know that the guy he killed was guilty of some crime, usually another murder. If he didn't give him the videos, then the FBI wouldn't know that he was 'avenging' another victim. And they would treat him just like they do any other serial killer and probably go after him with more motivation, thinking that the victims he killed were 'innocent'.

  Those videos made it easier for him to get away with what he was doing. But giving the videos to me? It didn't do the same thing. I already knew that the people he killed were in fact killers themselves. He was already aware about my feelings on revenge, and he knew that coming off as the good guy wouldn't change anything. I would still go after him as hard as I would have without seeing any footage of his murders.

  "Well, you like games… don't you, Puzzle Boy?" he asked cryptically. "Maybe I'm just messing with you, knowing that nothing in there will lead to me. Maybe I'm just having fun. Or this might be all a part of my plan and you are just a piece of the puzzle. Think whatever you want, I already made my move."