Mystery: The Card Counter: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Thriller Mystery) (11 page)

I drove back to the station and, as expected, reporters were hanging around there, eager to get some word on the new, flashy serial killer that was taking out the good citizens of our city. I had no comment for them as I pushed my way inside. This story was exploding and that was only going to make our jobs a lot tougher. I wasn’t against the public being aware of what deep shit they were in, but the media occasionally got in the way and prevented us from doing our jobs. Criminals watched television, too, when they weren’t doing bad things, and they used the news to gather intel from us, which gave them an edge we preferred they didn’t have.

Once I was back at the station, I immediately went to the Captain’s office. He’d been talking to Flo so he was basically up to speed on the connection we’d made with the latest victim and the people we were trying to protect at the hotel. “We don’t have the manpower to protect everyone, Walker,” he called out from his office.

“I never asked,” I called back. I understood our position. Just getting the players and the coaches out of the way was taxing enough on us. We couldn’t extend that and I knew it. That’s why I had had Flo talk to them about moving their loved ones to neutral locations, so that the killer wouldn’t be able to track them.

This was all spinning out of control and I was along for the ride. I checked my watch and realized that even if Collins and his team had lifted off on time, they were still a few hours out. I started rummaging through papers from lab tests done on prior victims, combing through them one page at a time, looking for that one clue that might point us in the right direction.

Despite the few cups of coffee I had while going through the papers, I started to doze off and lose concentration. I must have closed my eyes for what seemed like 30 seconds, and was woken up when someone kicked my chair, which startled me back into consciousness. I looked up and it was Agent Collins and his team, who’d finally arrived to help with our serial killer issue. “Well, I wish I could say it was nice to see you,” I said, though my eyes were still unfocused from a lack of sleep, “but I was kind of hoping never to see you again. No offense.”

Agent Collins smiled. “None taken.” He pulled up a chair and took a seat. I could tell he’d probably caught up on his sleep on his flight from LaGuardia. I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t concentrate on work when flying either, and sleep was hard to come by. “Get me up to speed on what’s going on.”

“We found a connection between our latest victim and the previous ones found earlier this week,” I started. “Turns out tonight’s kill was a close relative to one of the football players we have holed up.”

“There’s that football connection again,” Collins said as he dove into his briefcase and passed out a few files. “Here are the victims from the other cities. Like I said, most of them were football players, as well. Must be their connection.”

“It’s got to be,” I said as I opened the file and started to look through the crime scene photos and other materials. I stopped when I came across one of the photos of the victim in his football uniform. He looked eerily familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

One of the uniformed officers was passing by when he stopped and looked at the same photo I was staring at. “Isn’t that Jerome Willis?”

Collins looked up from what he was doing. “Yes, it is. How do you know him?”

“He used to play here,” the officer replied.

“I thought he looked familiar,” I said as I looked back at him, and then suddenly I remembered. “He transferred to another college because of the spending scandal. A lot of students did that when State got barred from bowl games for the next half a decade.”

“There’s our connection,” Collins said. I could see in his face that he couldn’t believe they’d overlooked this detail. “Chances are all the victims most likely transferred out of this college because of that spending scandal. This means they are all connected.”

“This also means that the killer is most likely from here, as well,” I added.

“You were right about the cards,” Collins agreed. “Turns out home really is where the heart is. This means our killer isn’t going to move anytime soon, and chances are, he’s not going to stop killing either, until we stop him.”

“I know,” I said while going through all the files he’d brought. “My Captain isn’t going to like the sound of that.”

“What it also means is the motive for these killings happened here as well,” Collins said as he started to pace around the room. “We also have to assume it happened prior to the spending scandal. The average student attends university for four years, so that shortens the window for us.”

“It gets even shorter,” I said as I showed Collins a photo of one of his out of town victims. “This student was only here for one season before he transferred. That narrows down our window considerably. Whatever started this vendetta against the team, it happened two years ago when this kid lived here.”

“This can’t be about a spending scandal,” Collins said out loud to no one in particular. “We’re looking for something else.”

“I agree. The killings are too personal.”

“We’re looking for someone who was hurt by the team.”

“Exactly,” I called back as I sat down in my chair. “Someone who wants to make these men suffer like he did. It’s the only thing that would explain the torture.”

“We have to look bigger than that,” Collins countered. “We need a list of every student who died on campus that entire year the kid was attending. This might be someone killing out of vengeance.”

“A long shot,” I confessed. “But I’m not willing to leave any stones unturned at this particular time.” I was combing through another file when my phone started to buzz on my hip. I recognized by the ringtone that it was Flo and immediately picked it up. “What’s going on over there, Flo?”

“We have a situation, Jake,” she replied.

“Give me the scoop, Flo.” 

“I’ve been getting all the players here to call their folks to make plans to either secure the home or stay somewhere else for the next night or two. It then occurred to me that Wally isn’t around to call his folks, the other victims’ families either.”

“Do you have the numbers, Flo?” I quickly asked.

“Yes,” Flo answered. “I’ve made three attempts to call the Bennett house, to warn Wally’s parents about what’s going on, but I’m not getting any answer.”

I felt a chill run down my spine and my gut was telling me the same thing Flo’s was. While there’s a chance the Bennett family might have vacated their home to avoid the press, at the moment I wasn’t willing to take that chance. “Stay there with the players and keep that place locked down. I’m going to send a tactical unit to the Bennett house.” I didn’t even wait for Flo to respond, and just hung up. I bolted from my chair and ran over to Captain Bancroft’s office. “I need a tactical unit over to the home of Wally Bennett’s family, and I mean yesterday!”

I watched as the Captain’s face flushed and he hung up on whoever he was talking to. “I’ll call it in. You and the feds get moving!”

I ran back to my desk and pointed to Collins as I came over. “We’re leaving right now! This bastard might be already back to work.”

When you’re driving out to the scene of a crime that is currently in progress, most traffic laws go out the window. You slap on the lights and you tear down the road with sirens blaring, and people should automatically know to get the fuck out of your way. I had to slow down a few times to avoid possible collisions, but did my best to get out to the Bennett house as soon as I humanly could.

Agent Collins and two other agents had hitched a ride with me, well aware that I knew the city much better than any of them did and could make it to the location much quicker. While I was driving like a maniac, a call came over the radio; a squad car had already arrived on the scene. They were asking for further instructions. Collins looked over at me. “Tell them to break the fucking door down and get the hell in there. The sooner the better.”

“It’s not that simple,” Collins said as he grabbed the radio. “This is Special Agent Collins of the FBI. You are clear to breach the house as soon as possible. I have to advise you that the assailant is likely armed and should be considered extremely dangerous. We will be on the scene in˗”

“Three minutes,” I called to him.

“Less than three minutes,” Collins repeated into the radio. “You can sit back and wait for back up, or if you want to risk it … but you’re clear to breach the house.”

“There’re only two of us here,” the officer replied. “We’ll attempt to secure the area and wait for back up.”

“Son of a fuckin' bitch!” I called out to no one in particular as I punched the gas and accelerated down the road. I couldn’t blame the kids for not wanting to go in. We had no idea who was in there or if the person had any accomplices. Waiting for back-up was the right move.

“Tactical is also en route,” Collins called into the radio. “But the moment we get there, we’re going in.”

“Understood,” the radio replied.

“Are there any sounds coming from the house?” Collins asked.

“Nothing,” the officer replied. “It’s fairly quiet here.”

Collins sighed. “Let’s hope the Bennett family got the hell out of town to get away from the press.”

“I’ve been praying for that since we left the station,” I spoke through gritted teeth as I ripped around a corner and narrowly missed an oncoming car. I could hear the agents in the back tense up due to our near miss, but I was already back on our own side and hauling ass to the Bennett house.

“I thought you were an atheist?” Collins recalled.

“I am.” As I pulled into the street where the Bennett house was located, I could see the cruiser parked out front and two officers waiting for us with guns drawn. I screeched the car to a halt by slamming it into park and immediately hopped out of the car, popping the trunk. I removed my coat and threw on a tactical vest for my own protection. I then took out a shotgun and loaded it with as many shells as it could hold before emerging to lead the way. I looked over at the two officers. “You stay right there, and I want you to run two houses down to cover the walkway that leads to the park.”

The officers did as they were told, as Collins and I and two other federal agents scrambled to the front door … the very same door I’d knocked on less than 48 hours ago. I didn’t even ask the agents if they were ready because I knew they were. They’d had guns drawn and had put on their tactical vests before getting into my car. I kicked the door open and stormed in with my shotgun, ready to blow away the first thing that moved.

As I strolled into the living room, I called out at the top of my lungs, “Police!” Once I had identified myself and the agents coming in behind me, I was legally clear to punch a hole into anyone who made a threatening motion towards any of us.

“Help us!” a voice called from the other side of the house.

Almost on instinct, I moved toward the hallway. There were three closed doors, and I had no choice but to kick each and every one of them to make sure no hostiles were hiding to attack us from behind. The agents behind me were FBI’s finest so all I had to do was concentrate on what was ahead of me; my six was covered. There was only one door left, which I had to assume was the master bedroom, and I kicked the door open with every ounce of energy I had.

The door swung open to reveal the worst thing that could have happened in there, waiting for us to come inside. Mr. Bennett was on the ground, lying on his stomach and bound the same way the other victims were. His trousers were rolled down to his ankles and he was stabbed multiple times in the back.

Mrs. Bennett, however, was also bound, but still alive. She was tied up just like her husband, but her eyes were covered instead of her mouth. Her clothes were all still in-tact and not removed in anyway. Once the room was cleared, the agents began to tend to Mrs. Bennett. “Wait!” I called out to them without warning.

“What’s wrong?” Collins asked.

I realized one of the agents was about to pull the blindfold off of Mrs. Bennett. I knew forensics was never going to let me hear the end of it, but I didn’t want the first thing she saw to be the state of her husband. I grabbed a blanket from the bed that was in the center of the room and pulled it off. I covered her husband to prevent her from seeing the horrific things that were done to him. “She’s been through enough already.”

Collins nodded in agreement. “Don’t take that off until you get her into the living room. Then I want you to help the officers secure the scene.”

I grabbed the radio from my belt. “This is Detective Walker, all units be advised that my suspect has fled the scene. He couldn’t have left any earlier than 10 minutes ago. Everyone be on the lookout for anyone with any trace of blood on them. The scene here is messy and I’m confident the suspect has some of it on their person.”

“We just missed him,” Collins said, looking angry enough to punch a hole into one of the walls.

“How the hell did he know we were coming?” I asked.

“Sirens?” Collins suggested.

“Not enough time,” I said as I walked around the room. “The two boys out front would have seen someone fleeing the scene.”

Collins squatted by the body and thought about it some more. “Is it possible he’s listening to us with a scanner?”

I didn’t like the idea but it made more sense. “Would explain how he got the hell out of here so fast.”

“At the same time, at least we don’t have two corpses on our hands.” Collins admitted, trying to look on the bright side.

“We’re lucky Flo thought to call them,” I replied, giving credit where it was due. “This killer is accelerating way too fast for my liking.”

“No kidding,” Collins said, not looking back. He peered around the room to see if the killer might have left anything good for us to pick up. The killer had left fast, so the odds of anything being left behind were far greater than before.

“We have something we never had before,” I said as I took a deep breath, my heart pounding hard enough to break through my sternum. “A witness.”

“She was blindfolded,” Agent Collins retorted.