Luke and Ellie were at her house up in her room. She was quietly crying into his neck, her hot, wet tears slipping down his shoulder as he held her tight. He felt on the verge of some emotional breakdown himself, but was doing his best to hold it together for her.
They had left Jimmy and John at their house, saying they would meet up later and talk to everyone else. So far, nobody was panicking and Luke attributed this to the fact Jason Margot was not in their little group. Selfish, maybe, but they couldn’t protect everyone, could they?
He was beginning to have doubts about their lack of involvement with the police and though their pact between each other only went so far, Jason Margot still did not deserve to die. Could they have prevented his death had they gone to Jaxon and Winston? Probably not, but maybe he wouldn’t feel so bad right now if they had.
Ellie lifted her head up off his shoulder and looked into his eyes. The pain he saw there bore right into his heart and his breath caught in his throat as he felt her hand touch his face. I’m not going to lose it, he said to himself. I’m not going to lose it. He had to look away as he felt his eyes well up. Apparently she wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. She turned his face back toward her.
“Look at me,” she said. A single tear slipped down her cheek, but her voice was strong. “We have to stop this, now. I can’t live with another death hanging over my head. We go to the group today and then we go to the police.”
He couldn’t find his voice. If he opened his mouth to speak, she would hear the weakness in it and he couldn’t let that happen. He needed to be strong. He nodded his head, trying to buy a little more time to get himself under control.
“You’re agreeing with me?” she asked, pulling back a bit and searching his face.
He waited a beat. “We need to have the group vote,” he finally said, his voice sounding stronger than he expected. “We all need to decide.”
“Why? It’s our problem. He hasn’t threatened them, only us.”
“We made an agreement with them. And besides, maybe someone will have some better advice.”
“You’re going to try and convince them to keep silent, aren’t you?” Another tear trickled down her cheek and her lip trembled ever so slightly. “You’re going to fight me on this?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t risk anything going wrong and her, somehow, ending up on the wrong side of all this.
Her face fell again and she looked away. He stared at her, his heart breaking in his chest. He felt like he was betraying her, but so much more was at stake. He loved her with every fiber in his body and he didn’t care who else got hurt, as long as it wasn’t her.
She stood. “You’re being selfish,” she said, angrily wiping away her tears. “You’re thinking only of yourself.”
“How can you say that?” he asked, but feared her answer.
“I know you. You’re thinking only of saving me,” she said, her voice cracking, tears streaming down her face, “not of anybody else who could get hurt. Well, I can’t let you. You’ll destroy us, don’t you see? I can’t live with him taking someone else’s life to save mine and I’ll hate you for letting it happen. Do you understand? I’ll hate you if you let it happen!”
He stood and went to her, grabbing and holding her tight. She resisted and softly beat on his chest, then succumbed and fell against him sobbing. A single tear fell from his face as his world came apart.
Burt Lolly loaded up the video while his wife Marie, brought them all some coffee.
“Honey,” Burt said. “I don’t think you should see this. It’s pretty upsetting.”
She nodded at him and said, “Let me know if you need anything else.” And she left the room.
“I pulled last night’s video and watched as soon as I saw all the commotion this morning. You two may want to sit down.”
“We’re alright, Mr. Lolly. Go ahead and show us what you have.”
“Burt,” he said. “Please call me Burt.” He hit play.
The screen showed the front yard again just as the masked individual entered the area from the left carrying what Jaxon presumed was the boy. He paused in front of the yard, turned and looked, facing the camera. He actually waved.
“Bastard,” Burt whispered.
He was wearing the same clothing and had on the white mask they had seen in the earlier surveillance video, but no other distinguishing marks or clothing could be made out. The boy was over his shoulder, his head hanging down his back, limp and still. Jaxon could not tell if he was alive or dead.
The masked individual approached the fence and wrestled the boy over it, following after him, up and over the chain link. He dragged the body toward the pool and left him, disappearing from view for a moment. He returned a few minutes later with something in his hand. It looked to be long and metallic.
The video jumped. It now showed the masked man back on this side of the fence jumping up and down in the road waving his arms. He stopped suddenly and then climbed back over the fence.
“He was triggering the camera again,” Burt said, quietly. “It timed out and the sensor doesn’t reach all the way inside the pool.” Burt turned and looked at them. “He wanted us to see this part, so he climbed back over the fence and jumped up and down to get the camera going again.”
Jaxon and Sally remained silent. He had a feeling what was coming.
The masked individual approached the body again and turned toward the camera. It was a little difficult to see from the distance and the chain link fence was making it even harder, but when he brought his arm up, a glint of light shining off of the metallic object Jaxon now knew to be a machete, there was no mistaking what was going to happen. Burt looked away and Sally gasped as the machete was brought down again and again until it finished its evil purpose. He then picked up the boys head and held it high above him, shaking it at the camera. The frame jumped again and the scene was empty, the killer finished with his show, the night still and silent in the aftermath. Jaxon shook with anger as Sally hung her head.
“We have to get this son-of-a-bitch,” she said. “Today.”
Ellie’s cell phone rang and she pulled away from Luke reaching for it. She looked at the caller I.D. and her face tightened.
She angrily punched the button with her finger and yelled, “What do you want, you sick bastard!”
The eerie voice came out of the speakerphone, laughing. “I thought you would be thanking me,” he said. “I did you a favor, right? Your little friend will never hurt or bother you again. Ever.”
“Why?!” Ellie said. “Why would you do this? He never did a thing to you.”
“Oh-but he did, my dear. He did. He should have known better than to damage my ultimate treasure.” The voice turned angry now. “Nobody will damage you but me. And only when it’s time.”
“Leave us alone, you sicko!” she yelled.
More laughter and then silence. She was breathing heavy, her face red and tight and her fist bunched in a ball. Luke thought she was going to throw the phone through the window.
Suddenly the voice said, “Remember, tell no one or I make it look like your friend John did it. No one will be able to help him then. Ask your cop buddies what they found on the body. You’ll see.” He hung up.
She looked shocked. “He knows,” she said and sagged onto her bed.
Luke could not figure out how this asshole knew every move they made. It was like he had some supernatural powers or something. How could he have known they talked to the police? If he knew that, then he must know they hadn’t really told the cops anything.
“We have to be careful,” Luke said. “He seems to know everything.”
She looked into his eyes again, frowned and slowly turned away. “There must be some way…” she said.
“I’ll think of something,” Luke said, but felt little confidence he would.
Suddenly, she grabbed his face, searched his eyes and then kissed him hard. He reached out and held her against him, but then she pulled away.
“Whatever happens,” she said. “I love you.”
“El, what are you saying?”
“Everything,” she said. “Everything that matters to me anyway. I love you and that’s all there is.” She smiled and he felt better.
After getting a copy of the video from Burt Lolly, Jaxon and Sally paid a visit to the J. Edgar Hoover building on Pennsylvania Ave in downtown Washington D.C. Having been there many times in the past, the building was still something Jaxon hated, not only for its Brutalist style of architecture, the huge concrete structure taking up an entire city block, but for the memories it wrung from his much maligned brain regarding his son’s murder and the subsequent investigation.
As a victim of another notorious serial killer, Michael had been the catalyst for the FBI’s involvement and Emory Holt’s rapid advancement to section chief. The then twelve year old Michael, had suffered at the hands of Malcom Switzer, and with the public outcry at the brutal slaying, the FBI felt they needed to get involved. Jaxon’s Department had gotten nowhere on the case and Holt had come in and broke it wide open.
Of course, Jaxon had remained outside the investigation of his own son. At least officially, but when they arrested Switzer at his sleazy, Herndon trailer, Jaxon had been there and it had taken the entire force to keep him at bay. Jaxon had still managed to shoot the killer in the leg. He survived and was now on death row, awaiting his execution for the murders of Michael and five other victims of his sick and demented mind. Jaxon would be there, front row and center, when the time came, to help him on his way. If only they would let him pull the switch.
Jaxon’s ex-wife was another problem. She had been a police officer in Fairfax with him, but after their son’s murder, she could not hide the blame she felt Jaxon deserved and had terminated their relationship along with her employment with the Fairfax County Police Department. She had then enlisted Holt’s help in securing her a position with the Bureau. After that it had only been a matter of time before she and Holt became a couple. Victoria Elliot was here, and the hatred he believed she felt toward him was something he could feel oozing from the walls as they entered the main floor.
“Detectives Jennings and Winston to see special agent Holt,” Jaxon told the receptionist.
“Is he expecting you?” she asked.
“No.”
She nodded and picked up the phone.
The main lobby was decorated in early 1970’s government. The furniture looked new, just not new in design. Framed pictures of the President and Vice President loomed over the reception desk while previous Bureau Directors trailed off in either direction. Silence permeated the area with the exception of a keyboard clicking somewhere and Sally sniffling as they waited.
“Agent Holt will be with you shortly,” the receptionist said, and indicated they were to sit until he arrived. Jaxon stood and stared at the pictures. Sally sat in a pale green, plastic, upholstered chair that looked far from comfortable. She fidgeted around in it for a few minutes, then stood up again.
“Maybe if you turned it upside-down with its little stubby legs sticking up,” Jaxon said, “you might be able to relax in it.”
She smiled at him. “This place rocks!”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Emory Holt said from behind Jaxon’s back.
Jaxon turned around and took in his old friend’s appearance. Taller than Jaxon, Holt’s greying hair was neatly trimmed tight around his ears and his gold, wire rimmed glasses sat down on the edge of his nose. His grey eyes conveyed a warmth Jaxon had a hard time appreciating. Holt smiled and extended his hand. Jaxon took it.
“Jaxon, good to see you. Detective Winston,” Holt grabbed Sally’s hand and pumped it once.
“Special Agent Holt. How are you?” Sally asked.
“Fine, fine. I hear you two are having a little trouble down there. Finally decided to bring in the experts, huh?” He laughed, but his humor failed to elicit the correct response from Jaxon. Sally smiled.
“Not yet, Holt,” Jaxon said. “We’re just looking for information and hoping you could give us a hand with it.”
“Whatever you need. Come on. Let’s go up to my office.”
They entered the elevator by the reception desk and rode up three floors to Holt’s office. He sat behind his desk and gestured to two chairs across from him. As they sat, Jaxon glanced around, his eyes settling on the framed picture of his ex-wife in a formal dress beside a tuxedoed Holt. Holt saw him looking and then pretended to miss it.
“So, what can the FBI do for Fairfax County’s finest?” Holt asked.
Jaxon pulled out a printout and handed it across the desk to Holt. “We need to see if you can track where this call originated from. It was routed through a Voice Over Internet Protocol, VoIP, phone service called Cobra Call based in Moscow.”
Holt was shaking his head. “Tough one my friend,” Holt said. “We’ve only been able to get information out of them once or twice. It’s the Russian mob and they are not too friendly with us.”
“I figured,” Jaxon said, “but I’d like for you to try. Can you give it a shot? It’s important.”
“I suspected as much or you wouldn’t be here.” He stared at Jaxon for a moment. “Is this related to the pool murders?”
“Yes,” Jaxon said.
Holt nodded, sat up straight and looked over the printout. “Who was the call made to?”
“My cell.”
Holt’s eyes looked up at him over the printout. “Who was the caller?”
Jaxon fidgeted for a second. “We’re pretty sure it was the perp. His voice was electronically altered, but he had knowledge of the case that has not been publically released.”
“What did he say?”
“He was basically taunting us.”
“Yes, I would suspect so, but what was the exact conversation.”
Jaxon sighed and pulled out his notebook. He read from his notes and Holt listened carefully with his fingers steepled over his desk and his eyes focused on the ceiling.
“He’s a brazen bastard isn’t he?” Holt said when Jaxon was finished. “Any luck finding traces of him after the call. I’m assuming you combed the area.”
“That’s the other favor we need,” Jaxon said, pulling out another printout. “He installed a kind of web-cam to a light pole and accessed the feed through a server belonging to a company here in the U.S.” He handed the information to Holt. “We could subpoena the company for its records, but I thought you might be able to do it faster.”
“This one will be easier,” Holt said. “Though it may not be what you expect. Usually these companies allow access to the server with just a user name, password, and the serial number from the device itself. They do not have to collect any personal information such as addresses or phone numbers.”
“I’m aware of that,” Jaxon said. “I was hoping to find out where he is accessing the server from.”
“We can usually get an I.P. address from the server records, but if it ends up being a public internet cafe or some wi-fi hotspot, it may not prove useful.”
“Anything will be helpful at this point,” Jaxon said.
“I’ll see what I can find out. When do you want this?”
“As soon as you can. He’s killing kids and it doesn’t look like he’s going to stop.”
“Has he started helping you yet?”
Jaxon was surprised. “As a matter of fact, yes. That was part of the phone conversation. He provided us with a means to identify his first victim. It was a class photograph from the boy’s school.”
“You were unable to identify the first victim? Was he badly mutilated?”
“He was frozen. For twenty seven years.”
Holt’s eyebrows went up and he sat forward. “Where?”
“We don’t know. He could have kept him in a freezer anywhere.”
“No,” Holt said. “Where was the boy from?”
“Reston.”
Holt sat back in his chair, his finger resting on the side of his temple. “So this was 1984?”
“Stewart Littleton disappeared Halloween night, 1984. Yes.”
“Any animals turn up frozen?” Holt asked.
Jaxon looked at Sally who was staring at Holt with a face he couldn’t read. “Not frozen. Decapitated. Why?”
“We had a case turn up twelve years ago. Very similar. Indiana. About the time of Michael’s murder. A boy of twelve surfaced in a pond and they had trouble identifying him. Nobody had reported a missing child and the usual dental records and fingerprints were coming up negative. They contacted the local FBI office for assistance and we discovered he had been frozen for sixteen years and had went missing from Hobart, Indiana in 1985. The case remains unsolved. Everything dried up and the only other associated incidents in the area involved frozen animals. At least they had once been frozen.”
“Let me ask you something,” Sally said. She had been quiet the whole time and it startled Jaxon when she spoke. “Was anything found in the bloodstream?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact that’s how we linked the animals to the boy. Diethyl Ether.”
“Shit,” Jaxon said, and stared at Sally who was grinning.