An Evil Mind--A Suspense Novel (24 page)

1

Mark punched in the passcode he had obtained from the building manager’s office and, when the gate opened, drove his rental Dodge Charger into the garage. It was seven-fifteen in the morning. He parked in the visitor area, got out of the car, and started looking for Taylor Cowley’s Mercedes. He took measures to avoid being identified: he wore sunglasses and a felt hat to hide his face from surveillance cameras, and his car had fake license plates.

He found the Mercedes on the second level, in slot 215. He got in his Charger and moved it to an unoccupied spot five spaces from Cowley’s car.

Was it Jeff or Sam who had swapped bodies with Cowley?

Jeff would certainly have loved to be young again, so the odds were good it was him.

It was ten-thirty when Cowley entered the garage. He wore black jeans and a black leather jacket. Mark got out of his car, withdrew his badge, and walked over to Cowley’s Mercedes. As Cowley neared his vehicle, Mark held out his badge and said, “Detective Bradbury, Garland PD. Are you Taylor Cowley?”

“Yes,” Cowley said warily.

“You’re under arrest.” He pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

“For what?”

Mark grabbed Cowley’s right arm and snapped a cuff on his wrist. “They’ll explain the charges at the station.” Mark pulled Taylor’s arms behind his back and cuffed the other wrist.

“I didn’t do anything,” Cowley pleaded.

“If you’re innocent, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Can I call my parents?”

“You can call from the station.” Mark patted Cowley down, took the phone from his jeans pocket, then grasped his arm and led him to his Charger.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Mark opened the front passenger door and said, “Get in.”

He had a Taser in his coat pocket, which he was going to use on Cowley if he resisted or tried to escape from the car.

“What kind of crime do you think I committed?” Cowley got in the Charger. “Is it something serious?”

“No.” Mark shut the door.

As he went to the driver’s door, he removed the battery from Cowley’s phone.

“Relax, son,” Mark said when they pulled out of the parking spot. “Just tell the truth, and you’ll be fine.”

2

Cowley said little on the way to Mark’s parents’ lake house. To assuage his fears, Mark told him that the crime he was accused of was a misdemeanor, not a felony. When Mark pushed the Open button on the garage door remote, Cowley said, “You said we were going to the police station.”

“I need to show you something first.”

Mark drove into the garage, pressed the Close button on the remote, and got out of the car.

“Where are we?” Cowley asked.

“Patience, Taylor.”

Mark opened the front passenger door. “Get out.”

A shadow of fear flitted across Cowley’s face.

“What do you want to show me?” he asked. “Whose house is this?”

“There’s something in the living room you have to see.”

“Take me to the police station.”

Mark grabbed Cowley by the arm and pulled him out of the car.

“Go.” He pointed toward the door leading into the house. He drew his SIG Sauer to make Cowley more cooperative.

They entered the house and went into the living room.

“Are you really a cop?” Cowley asked in a trembling voice.

“Yes, I am.”

“What do you want from me?”

Mark slipped the gun into the holster. “Sit down on the couch.”

Cowley did as told, and Mark bound his feet with duct tape.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions,” Mark said. “If you don’t answer them truthfully, I’ll hurt you.”

Cowley’s forehead was beaded with sweat.

“You’re not a cop. Cops don’t kidnap people.”

“I’m doing this for myself, not the police department.”

“Is this your house?”

“What are your parents’ names?”

“Cindy and Kevin Cowley.”

Mark took a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and put it in Cowley’s lap. Printed on the sheet was a passage from a French fairy tale called The Hunchback and His Two Brothers. The text was in French.

“Tell me what this says.”

Cowley lowered his eyes to the sheet. “Once upon a time there was a king who had three sons. Two of whom were fine, handsome young men, and the third one was a hunchback whose name was Alain. His father did not love him, but sent him off to the kitchen with the cooks while his two older brothers ate with him at his own table and went with him everywhere. One day the old king sent for his three sons and said to them—”

“That’s enough.” Mark grabbed the sheet and put it back in his pocket.

Apparently, Jeff (or Sam) hadn’t yet figured out why he had been kidnapped.

“Jeff, is it you?” Mark smiled. “Or is it Sam?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know everything. I know about the ritual. And I know that one of you switched bodies with Andrew Broder.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Jeff. Stop wasting my time.”

“My name’s not Jeff. My name’s Taylor. You got the wrong guy.”

“I know it’s you, Jeff. You’re not going anywhere until you admit that you’re Jeff.”

“I’m Taylor.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. Check my driver’s license.”

“You’re not Taylor Cowley. Taylor Cowley doesn’t speak French.”

Cowley froze. He must have realized he had been tricked.

“You switched bodies with Taylor Cowley and Andrew Broder on January first,” Mark said. “Are you Jeff or Sam?”

Cowley sighed, and made no reply.

“If you don’t tell me who you are, I’ll kill you. Do you want to die?”

Cowley shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said hoarsely.

“Then tell me who you are.”

Mark took out the Taser and pressed it against Cowley’s thigh.

Cowley bit his lip and shifted on the couch. “I’m Logan Broder.”

“Andrew Broder’s son?”

“Yes.”

Why would Logan Broder swap bodies with Taylor Cowley? And why would Sam and Jeff help him do it?

“This is bullshit.”

“No, it’s not bullshit. I’m Logan Broder.”

“Why did you switch bodies with Taylor Cowley?”

“I had leukemia. My dad paid Taylor a million dollars to trade bodies with me. They transferred my consciousness to his body and his consciousness to mine.”

The million dollars part must be a lie. No doubt Sam and Jeff had forced Taylor Cowley to switch bodies with Logan Broder.

Mark pulled Jeff Phillips’s picture from his pocket and showed it to Cowley. “Is this the man who helped you switch bodies with Taylor?”

“Yes. It was two guys, him and Jake.”

Mark took out Sam Curtis’s photo. “Is this Jake?”

“Yes. How did you find out about this?”

“What’s Jake’s last name?”

“I don’t know. My dad must know it.”

“What’s Jake’s partner’s name?”

“Peter.”

“Did your father pay Jake and Peter?”

“Yes. He paid them twenty million dollars.”

“Twenty million?”

“Yes.”

“How did your father find Jake and Peter?”

“Jake came to my dad and said that he could transfer my consciousness to another body.”

Was Logan Broder Sam and Jeff’s first client?

“Did he explain how he was going to do it?”

“He has a special machine that can transfer consciousness from one body to another.”

Sam Curtis must have decided that Andrew Broder wouldn’t believe him if he said he was going to use magic.

“Did the transfer take place on January first?”

“Yes.”

“What did Jake and Peter do during the transfer?”

“I didn’t see what they did during the procedure. I was asleep. Jake gave me sleeping pills before the procedure.”

“Where did the procedure take place?”

“In Jake’s company’s office. It’s somewhere in Dallas.”

“Jake has a company?”

“Yes. It’s called New Horizons.”

“Do you have its phone number?”

“No.”

“Do you have Jake’s or Peter’s number?”

Taylor shook his head. “My dad must have their numbers.”

“What happened to Taylor Cowley?”

They must have killed him. They couldn’t have let him live because if they did he would have gone to the police.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me, Logan. You know what happened to him. Is he dead?”

“I told you I don’t know. They said they’d give Taylor a new identity.”

Mark googled “Logan Broder found dead” on his phone and got no hits.

“Where did you live before the switch?” he asked.

“I lived in the same building I live now but in a different apartment. Apartment twelve-oh-seven.”

“Who lives there now?”

“No one.”

“Does your mother know about the body switch?”

“No.”

Was Cowley telling the truth?

Mark knew nothing about Logan Broder, so it was going to be difficult to verify that it was Logan who currently occupied Taylor Cowley’s body.

“Who else was in the office besides you, Jake, and Peter?” Mark said.

“My dad, my dad’s driver, and the guy who was going to trade bodies with another client later that night.”

“Do you know this guy’s name?”

It must be the man Jeff had switched bodies with.

“No. He was asleep the whole time.”

“How old did he look?”

“Early twenties.”

“Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

“I don’t think so.”

Mark paced the room for a minute, trying to figure out how to verify that Cowley was Logan Broder, and then said, “When did you get your driver’s license?”

“Do you mean me or Taylor?”

“You.”

“Four years ago. Why?”

“Where did you take the behind-the-wheel test?”

“I took it twice. The first time was in Dallas and the second in Garland.”

“How old are you?

“Twenty.”

“Have you gotten any traffic tickets?”

“I got a few speeding tickets, a bunch of parking tickets. I got a ticket for running a red light once.”

“When was that?”

“Last March.”

“When did you get your latest speeding ticket?”

“Last September.”

“I’m going to verify this information, and if it doesn’t check out, you’ll be in big trouble.”

“It will check out.”

“Do you go to college?”

“Yes. Well, I did before the procedure.”

“What college did you go to?”

“University of Texas at Dallas.”

Mark opened the Internet browser, found the portal login page of the University of Texas at Dallas, showed it to Cowley, and said, “Give me your username and password.”

Neither Jeff nor Sam could know the username and password for Logan Broder’s student account.

Cowley told him his username and password, and Mark entered them.

Logan Broder’s student account appeared on the screen.

“Do you believe me now?” Cowley asked.

“Not yet.”

Mark called Detective Robert Worster, who worked in the Robbery Unit of the Dallas PD, and asked him to email Logan Broder’s DMV driving record to him. He received the record ten minutes later.

Logan Broder had run a red light on March 13 of last year and gotten his latest speeding ticket on September 7 of last year.

The guy was telling the truth; he really was Logan Broder.

“I’m going to let you go.” Mark fished the handcuff key out of his pocket. “I want you to keep this meeting between us. If Jake finds out I know who you are, he’ll kill you.”

“Okay. Please don’t tell anyone about the switch.”

“I won’t.”

Mark unlocked and removed the handcuffs.

Should he tell Cindy Cowley what had happened to her son?

Would Cindy believe him?

He didn’t think so.

“Don’t say anything to your father.”

“Okay.”

Mark cut the duct tape and stripped it off Cowley’s legs.

“Can you take me home?” Cowley asked.

“Yeah.”

They went to the garage, and when Mark got in the car, he pounded his fist on the steering wheel and emitted a growl.