CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
"Alright, I have the information," Alison said when she downloaded the file from her email.
Derek drove dangerously fast, partly fueled by what they’d found in Alison's house. She was next. That’s what the message said, and his protective nature kicked in. He would take a little risk to find the person who had threatened her life. He would put himself in the firing line if necessary.
The sounds of other cars came in two tones as they flew past them. The engine noises rumbled at a certain tone, and when they were past, the Doppler effect kicked in, and the tone changed.
Someone honked at them as they passed.
None of it deterred Derek or caused him to slow down, and the closer to the downtown core they got, the busier the streets became. Alison trusted Derek’s driving, but she held onto her seat with one hand as they swerved in and out of traffic.
"What are we looking at?" Derek asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Vanessa Taylor, thirty-seven years old, a former court reporter," Alison relayed.
"I know the names of the court reporters, and I never worked with her, or I don't remember working with her.
There are a lot of court reporters doing the rounds.
She left the job three months ago, and worked in the role for ten years before that. "
"She would have observed hundreds of cases," Derek said. "They’re checking back at the office and trying to link her to the other victims. She didn't work with you if you’re remembering correctly, so maybe she thought she wouldn’t be connected to you."
"Yeah, but why the text message?" Alison asked. "She sent that to me, and whether it was by mistake or not, it’s suspicious, as if we’re walking into a trap."
"I hear all the time about criminals being chased by law enforcement, and the longer it goes on, the more connected they feel until they reach out. Maybe it’s like that. Maybe she feels connected to you, or she wants to play games with you."
"But what games?" Alison asked. "If she sent the text on purpose, then she knew we would trace it to her home. She knew we’d go straight there. What if she has it rigged to explode or something like that? What if that’s how she gets me? I walk in there, and a bomb is detonated?"
"That’s why you’re not going in there when we get there," Derek said. "I am."
Another car changed tone as they flew past it, Derek driving even faster as the traffic became denser.
"Do we have a motive?" Derek asked.
"Yeah, we do," Alison said as she read the file. "Her brother was wrongfully convicted and sentenced to twelve years in prison. Two years ago, after serving eight years of his sentence, he won his case on appeal when new evidence came to light. The brother’s ex-girlfriend testified against him."
"And you counseled the ex," Derek said as it all came together.
"No," Alison replied. "That’s the thing. I wasn’t a part of the case at all. Douglas Fairborn was in charge of preparing the witness. I know him. He’s dogged and determined, and he sometimes skirts the line between right and wrong, but would he push for a wrongful incarceration?
It would look good on his record, but he must be blackballed now after the truth came to light.
I don't understand how this all connects. "
"But we know she has a reason to be unhappy, and we know she’s been in court hundreds of times, listening to witness statements that would remind her of the one given against her brother. Maybe the two of them are in it together."
"It says here that her brother moved to the UK shortly after his release," Alison said.
"I’ll message the office and get them to check on that.
Vanessa did fight the courts for many years, trying to point out the inconsistencies in witness statements and how the evidence was gathered.
She fought for eight years before she got justice. "
"That’s a long time," Derek said. "A lot of dedication. That must have festered in her."
"It would have," Alison agreed. "And being in court that many times is not easy. She wasn’t a part of any of the trials, only recording them, but she’ll have had to listen to them all.
It might have eaten away at her. She does fit, but I still don't get the text message.
Why send nonsense characters? Why send it to me? Why now?"
"Maybe we find out when I get inside her house," Derek pointed out.
"I don't know what we'll find when we get there," Alison admitted.
Derek’s phone rang, and he hit the button on the steering wheel to connect via Bluetooth and put the phone on speaker phone.
"Yeah?" Derek asked.
"We have him," Loxley said.
"The reporter?"
"Yeah," Loxley replied.
"And? Is he a reporter?" Derek asked, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his hands gripping the wheel.
"He checks out," Loxley replied. "A patrol car picked him up on Westchester Street, where he claimed to be heading back to his office. He gave his ID, and we ran a check on him. His name’s Dennis Broadhurst, and he works for the Oakland Sun.
We checked with them, and they confirmed exactly what he said.
He has a reputation for writing hit pitches and sensationalizing news, but no criminal record on file. "
"Alright," Derek said, "I want him held for now. Find out where he’s been over the past two weeks, and confirm any alibis he has for the three murders. Even if he comes back clean, I want him held for twenty-four hours while we investigate this case. I don't want him hassling anyone associated with the case or stirring up any panic. Make sure he’s got food and water and he’s comfortable, and I’ll talk with him when we get back to the office. "
"You got it," Loxley said.
"Have you pinged the phone again? Is it still at the same address?" Derek asked.
"It was in the building ten minutes ago. Do you want me to request backup for you?"
"You know what, that might not be a bad idea. See if there are any patrol cars in the area, and if they get there before us, they’re not to approach the house. We’re three minutes away."
"I’ll put out the call now," Loxley said.
"Good." Derek hit the button on the steering wheel to end the call.
"But if we get either first, you’re going in, aren’t you?" Alison asked.
"This ends now," Derek said.
Alison knew there was no talking him out of it. She didn't want him to go in alone, but she knew he would. She wanted to go in with him, but he wouldn’t allow that, and it was risky when she was the main target.
You’re next!
It wasn’t only a warning, but it had been written on the photo of her sister. It made it personal.
Do you know about Emma, or was it a coincidence that you wrote on her photo?
Twenty years since Emma was killed, and no closer to discovering what happened. She’d brought multiple killers to justice, but not the one who mattered the most.
She took out her phone and looked at the text message again.
TPHUBT PH-RD BAOURD
Her mind worked to rearrange the letters into words that made sense. It was meant for her, she knew it, she just had to make sense to it, but that was impossible. She said the words over and over in her mind, trying to hear sounds that made sense, but it was still the same garbled mess.
What game are you playing with me? Is that the game? I’m not supposed to understand it, but I obsess over it until it drives me crazy. Is it a distraction?
"There," Derek said.
He stopped the vehicle behind someone who was about to pull out of their space, and the car behind honked in frustration.
The car in front pulled out when Derek stopped, and the car behind tried to quickly pull around, almost hitting the first car as it pulled.
Both cars honked loudly at each other, and probably at Derek, too.
It was a trumpeting fanfare that everyone around heard.
Including whoever was in the house.
Derek pulled into the spot and stopped the car.
"You’re staying where you are and I mean it this time," Derek warned. "Someone got into your home to deliver that warning. You’re not setting foot in that house until I clear it. Do you understand me?"
She’d never heard Derek talk so authoritatively to her, and even though she didn't like it or anything about the situation, she knew he was right.
"I won't move from here until you come back," she replied. "Just don't take long, okay? The longer you’re gone, the more I’ll worry, and I will come after you at some point."
"I’ll be in and out, and I’m bringing the suspect with me," he told her.
"Just be careful," she said. She reached over and patted his hand, and it felt like the most intimate thing she’d ever done.
Derek placed a hand atop hers as her hand was on his. "I’ll be back," he told her.
His jaw tightened when he exited the vehicle and marched toward the unassuming red brick house.
She watched as he walked up the four steps to the front door and knocked.
She couldn’t see the door, but something in the way he held himself told her something was off.
Derek stepped forward and entered the house.
It must have been unlocked, and when he knocked, the door opened inward. Alison was tempted at that point to get out of the vehicle and follow him in. If the door was unlocked and open, then something was wrong.
"Where’s the backup?" she muttered. She looked down the street and in the side mirror to see behind. There was no sign of a patrol car.
The wait was agonizing. She stared at the front door of the house, trying to count the seconds in her head. How long was she supposed to wait before following him in? Had someone grabbed him as soon as he entered the house? Was he already dead?
She knew only seconds were ticking, but each felt like a minute, and that was a long time when stepping into the unknown. If a patrol car arrived and a couple of officers followed him in, she would feel much better, but Derek was gone, and no one was there to help him.
"Come on, where are you?"
Alison couldn’t bear it any longer. She got out of the car and stood by the vehicle for a moment, knowing that Derek wouldn’t want her anywhere near the house, especially if he were in trouble. That’s why she had to go. If he were in trouble, she could see him. Or, she might also die.
She was the one they wanted.
Alison was about to move to the house when the phone rang. She took it from her pocket to see that Derek was calling her.
She answered. "Hello?"
"You need to get in here," he said. "You have to see this."
Alison breathed a sigh of relief. She walked toward the house with almost a skip in her step, up the four steps to the door, and into the darkness.
It was only once she was inside that she wondered if it could be a trap. Had they captured him and forced him to make the call.
Alison brought the phone back to her ear. "Derek?"
The line was dead