Cold Justice (30 page)

Jake slapped him on the back and followed him into a room
the builder had designed as the living room. Other than a small television and
an easy chair, in this case, the room was put to better use. It was
wall-to-wall technology, with makeshift shelving containing monitors,
keyboards, mice, cables, and unknown things with dials and meters.

Pushed up against another wall, a desk was piled high with
other curious pieces of computer equipment, rows of DVDs, software, stacks of
manuals, and hard drives.

Geekly sat sideways at a smaller desk that contained two
monitors and a keyboard. He kicked a chair toward Jake. “Have a seat and tell
me what I can do for you.”

Jake sat and pulled the chair in closer. “I need you to find
someone for me.”

“Piece of cake,” Geekly said, as he tucked his glasses back
up onto his nose. “Who are you looking for?”

“His name is Tommy Salamander.”

“Tommy. Probably registered in the birth records under the
name of Thomas,” Geekly said as he swung his chair around. He tapped a few keys.
“I have two Thomas Salamanders. How old is this guy?”

“Probably mid-twenties.”

“There’s only one then. Thomas Salamander, born March 10th,
1987. That would make him twenty-six years old. Sound right?”

Jake nodded. “That sounds like him.”

Geekly banged a few more keys. “Currently living at 12
Portal Street?” he asked, as he looked at Jake.

Jake nodded. “Yup. Now I have to find out who his Uncle is.”

Geekly turned back to the keyboard. “Let’s see here. His
mother is Betty Salamander. She lives in the city.”

“So Salamander would be her married name,” Jake said. “What’s
her maiden name?”

Geekly continued to drum the keys. Finally, he turned to
Jake. “She was born Betty Hoffman.”

“Hoffman,” Jake shouted. He lowered his voice slightly and
leaned in. “What’s the name of her siblings?”

“Let’s see here.” Tap tap tap. “One brother. Boris Hoffman.”

Jake jumped to his feet. “Boris Hoffman. I don’t believe it.”

Geekly shrugged. “It’s all here.”

“Yeah, I mean, I know Hoffman. I just never suspected he was
a murderer.”

“You wanna fill me in a bit here?” Geekly asked.

Jake told him quickly about Hoffman, and what he was now
sure Hoffman had done.

“You should call the police,” Geekly suggested.

“The problem is, I don’t have any real evidence yet. Just
the word of a homeless man who hates cops, and a low-life who won’t admit
anything.”

“So, what are you gonna do?”

Jake shook his head. “I’m not sure yet.” He paced for a few
seconds and then swiped his iPhone from its holster.

His call was answered on the first ring. “Anderson Blackley.”

“Mr. Blackley, it’s Jake Lincoln. Did my wife come and see
you today?”

“Yes, she did. Just after one.”

“Did she say where she was going? I’m unable to reach her.”

“No, she never said.”

“Ok, thanks.”

“Wait,” Blackley said. “There is one thing that might help.
When I told her Vera had been seeing a psychiatrist some time ago, a Dr. Boris
Hoffman, she seemed quite interested. She left in a hurry after that. She said
she had some things to take care of right away.”

“Thanks again.”

Jake thought a moment, and then spun around and looked at
Geekly. “I think that crazy wife of mine went to see Hoffman.” He ran toward
the door. “I gotta go Geekly. Thanks for your help.”

“Yeah, yeah, any time,” Geekly called as the front door
slammed.

Jake ran to the car and powered it up. He threw the shifter
in first, touched the gas, and left a few black marks behind.

He still had his iPhone in his hand. He called Philip Macy.

“Hello?”

“Philip, it’s Jake. I think we have our man. Dr. Hoffman.
Does that make any sense to you?”

“Dr. Hoffman?” Philip asked. “Are you sure?”

“I’d bet my iPhone on it.”

Philip whistled. “It’s starting to make a little bit of
sense. Yeah, sure. He would have access to enough drugs to... kill Abby. And
she would let him into the house with no question, because she knew him.” He
was talking fast, excited. “Yeah, it makes a lot of sense now.”

“And don’t forget,” Jake added. “He’s the one who said your
wife was delusional, and the police gave his statement a lot of weight.”

“Wow. Exactly. He’s the guy Jake. I’m sure of it. Did you
inform the police yet?”

“That’s the problem. I can’t prove any of this right now.”

“So, now what?”

“I have to get over there right now. I think Annie went
there this afternoon. She may be in trouble.”

“Take me with you.”

“What? No.”

“Take me with you, Jake. He took my wife. I want to be
there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I’m in this a hundred percent.” He paused. “I
can meet you there if you want.”

“I’ll pick you up,” Jake said. “See if you can find out
where he lives, and I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

“I’ll be outside waiting for you. And I know exactly where
he lives.”

Chapter 54

Friday, August 19th, 3:21 PM

AS ANNIE SCOOTED from the bedroom, heading for the garage
and freedom, she could hear Hoffman behind her again. He must have heard her,
or perhaps stepped out of the walk-in closet in time to see her run.

She would have to dodge into the kitchen again. She was just
going in circles, around and around. She needed a moment to think, but there
wasn’t time.

She swung into the kitchen out of his line of fire and
stopped suddenly. Reaching up, she selected a large frying pan from a row of
cookware hung on hooks from the ceiling. She swung around, hoisted the pan over
her head, and waited.

“You can’t get away,” he called.

She heard him breathe. He was moving slowly, getting close.
The tip of the gun appeared around the corner. Then a hand.

As she brought the pot down with all her strength, she heard
a sickening thud as it connected with his wrist. The blow drove his hand down,
but he held onto the gun. He cursed. The pot was now at her side, gripped in
both hands. She stepped around the corner, swung up, and caught him full in the
face. He stumbled with the blow, hit the wall with his shoulder, and went down.

He still had the gun, but another quick crack with the pan
onto the back of his hand caused it to jump away and skitter against the wall.

She dropped the pan and dove for the weapon. He caught her
by the shirtsleeve, but she retrieved the gun with her other hand, swung it
around, and cracked him on the side of the head, wrenching her shirt from his
grasp. It ripped, but she was free. She rolled away, and sprung to a crouch,
facing him, the gun in her hand aimed directly at his head.

He groaned and opened his eyes, frowning at her.

“Don’t try anything,” Annie said, “or I’ll kill you.” She
stood and backed up a couple of steps. “Stand up.”

He groaned again and rose slowly to his feet. “You won’t
shoot me,” he said.

“You don’t want to find out for sure, do you?”

He was silent, glaring at her.

The scuffle had put him between her and the kitchen. She
wanted to get in there, get to a phone, and call the police. “Step back,” she
said, “into the kitchen, and sit down at the table.”

He scowled at her a moment and then stepped back, eyeing the
gun.

“Another step.”

He did.

“Now sit down.”

He turned and pulled back a chair, and sat at the end of the
table.

She looked around and spied the phone on the counter. She
stepped sideways. The gun didn’t waver as she swooped up the receiver.

“You don’t want to do that,” Hoffman said.

“And why is that?” she asked.

“Because you are an intruder in my house. You broke in here.
I tried to defend myself, and now you are holding me at gunpoint.”

She hesitated.

“You will be in a lot of trouble,” he said.

“You killed Abigail Macy.”

“Where’s your proof?”

He was right. She had no proof, just a theory. Except for
the blood. “I found blood in the trunk of your car. Vera Blackley’s blood,” she
said.

He laughed. “That’s my blood. I cut my finger changing a
tire.” He held up his hand and showed her a scab on the side of his finger.

A neighbor saw you parked at Vera Blackley’s house.

He laughed again. “She was my patient, and I make the
occasional house call. I went to see her a couple of times when she was feeling
particularly down.”

“What about Abigail Macy?” she asked.

He shook his head slowly. “It was very sad to hear about her
committing suicide.” He sighed. “Very sad, indeed.”

She set the receiver back in its cradle. He was right. It
was all circumstantial evidence, and if she couldn’t back any of it up, then
what kind of trouble had she gotten herself into? Maybe it really was his blood
in the car.

She sat at the other end of the table, clenching the weapon
tightly in her hand, and pointing it at his head.

Chapter 55

Friday, August 19th, 3:32 PM

JAKE FOLLOWED Philip Macy’s directions to Rambling Road. As
they drew closer to 133, he frowned and pointed. “There’s Annie’s car.”

He spun onto the shoulder, came to a quick stop behind her
vehicle and they jumped out.

“I have to get something first,” Jake said, as he ran around
to the rear of the Firebird and popped the trunk. He pulled a cardboard box
forward and dug around, finally pulling out a baseball cap. He tucked it on his
head and slammed the trunk.

“That’s what’s so important?” Philip asked. “A baseball cap?”

Jake grinned. “It’s not just a baseball cap. There’s a
camera inside.” He flipped it off his head and turned it over. Velcro ripped as
he tugged at a flap hiding a tiny high-resolution video recorder. “There’s the
camera,” he said, pointing to a barely noticeable spot on the front of the cap.
He flipped it back on his head. “All I have to do is press the top of my head,
and the recording starts.”

Philip was amazed at the gadget. “So, you think you’re going
to get a confession out of this guy?” he asked.

“I’ll give it a shot,” Jake said. “Let’s go.”

They ran across the road and stood at the end of the long
driveway. Jake was worried about being seen while approaching the house, but he
didn’t want to waste any time either. He was more worried Annie may be in some
danger, and he had to take a risk.

“The way I see it,” he said, thinking out loud, “if Hoffman
is alone in the house, and even if Annie’s in there with him, he’s not going to
be sitting there staring out the window.”

“You’re probably right, Jake, unless he’s waiting for us.”

Jake frowned. “If he is waiting, then let’s let him know we’re
here. Either way, I’m going in,” he said, as he went a few steps to the right
of the gate and approached the white picket fence.

Philip followed him as they climbed the railing and landed
on the other side.

Jake pointed to the trees lining the driveway. “I think we
can get most of the way there without being seen. If he’s there.”

They walked up the edge of the drive, keeping the large tree
trunks between them and the house as much as possible. After a couple of
minutes, they reached a large courtyard in front of the mansion and crouched
down behind the last tree.

Jake eyed the house, examining the windows. Satisfied no one
was watching, he said, “Let’s go around the side. I need to see what’s going on
in there.”

They strode quickly across the courtyard and around to the
side of the house, past the garage. Jake cautiously peeked in each window, but
saw no one. “Annie’s in there somewhere,” he said.

When they reached the back of the house, Jake poked his head
around the corner. There was a massive deck attached to the back of the
building, leading down to an olympic sized swimming pool. A variety of outdoor
chairs, tables, and plants adorned the stone pathways and patios that covered a
large area at the back of the house.

Jake pointed to a pair of sliding glass doors that led from
the deck into the building. “I have to see in there,” he said.

They crept across the edge of the house, through shrubs and rosebushes,
and reached the deck. Jake turned to Philip. “Wait here,” he said, as he kept
close to the building and pulled himself up over the railing, dropping quietly
on the deck.

With his back scrubbing the wall, he eased over to the edge
of the doors. He listened, but heard nothing from inside. He would have to get
one of those little spy mirror doodads if he gets out of here alive. It would
come in handy right now.

He touched the top of his cap and felt a click. No lights
needed, camera on, time for action.

He crouched down as low as possible and peered into the
room. He saw Annie, sitting at a table, her back to him. Hoffman was at the
other end. They appeared to be having a conversation.

He pulled back. This didn’t make a lot of sense. He knew she
was in danger and he had to act fast. He turned to Philip and whispered, “She’s
in there with Hoffman. I have to get in there.”

Hoffman looked up as Jake moved to the door and tugged. It
was locked. As Annie spun around, Jake’s jaw dropped when he saw the gun she
was holding.

Hoffman dove from his chair, streaked across the kitchen and
disappeared. Annie stood up, aimed the gun in his direction and began to
follow.

Jake dove off the deck and hit the ground beside Philip. “Hoffman
is running,” he said as he sped across the back of the house. He didn’t know
whether Hoffman was going to leave the building, and if so, which exit would he
take? But he had to catch him.