The doorbell rang and Luke went to answer it. His dad beat him to it saying, “I got it!” It ended up being Patrick, Ellie’s brother. He stood there holding a suitcase and a box in his hands, a big stupid grin on his face.
“Hello, Patrick,” Luke’s dad said. “Is that for Ellie?”
“Yep,” he said.
“Alright, come on in.”
Luke stepped back so Patrick could come in and as he passed, Luke said, “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Patrick said and then just stood there. Apparently, he was still acting somewhat cool to him. Nothing Luke could do about it so he went to find Ellie. She was in his brother’s room, her hair wet from the shower.
“Patrick’s here,” Luke said. “He has some stuff for you.”
“Probably some more clothes. My mom said she would send him over with it.”
They went downstairs together and Patrick handed her the stuff.
“What’s in the box?” Ellie asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “It was delivered today. I didn’t open it. You’d kill me if I did, anyway.” He turned and left.
Luke’s dad said, “Talkative, isn’t he?”
“He’s a jerk,” Ellie said. “He’s probably mad because my mother made him bring this over.” She grabbed the box and Luke took the suitcase, and they went back upstairs. In the room she put the box on the floor and Luke set the suitcase on the bed.
“Did you order something?” Luke asked.
“No. I don’t know what this is. Probably some swim team junk. Coach always sends me scholarship crap.” She tore open the top of the box and looked inside.
She started screaming. She didn’t stop for ten minutes.
Jaxon’s desk was piled high with documents and boxes. The desk next to him, which Victoria was using, looked the same. They had been perusing the old files for three hours and had little to show for it.
He felt tired and edgy, and she must be feeling the same because they had talked very little this morning. It was good they were comfortable together, but her presence was somewhat of a distraction. She was dressed in a skirt again this morning and a blouse which, though professional, showed off her cleavage in just the right way. A lot of the guys were walking by repeatedly and Jaxon knew why.
He was currently looking at the old file on Stewart Littleton, reading through the interviews of the family and neighbors from the time of his missing person’s report in 1984. Very dull. The investigator back then was one S. Holmes. He thought it was a joke, but the guy’s real name was Samuel Holmes. Jaxon wondered if he ever considered changing it to Sherlock. He told Victoria this and she laughed.
“His partner wasn’t a doctor was he?”
“Uh…” he leafed through the documents. “No-Jedediah Smith.”
They both looked silently at each other and then burst out laughing.
“You’re kidding, right?” She said.
He couldn’t answer because he was laughing so hard so he just shook his head. He handed the paper over to her and she looked at it and started laughing even harder.
“The chief back then probably had no choice but to put them together,” he laughed.
“Oh-right! How could you NOT team those two up?”
“The English investigator extraordinaire, and the brazen mountain man!”
They were laughing so hard that people were coming over and wondering what the hell was going on. They couldn’t stop to tell them. Jaxon just waved them away and they wandered off looking back over their shoulders at the two overworked and exhausted crazy people.
Jaxon was still trying to control himself as he looked over the papers in his hand for other unusual names associated with the case. He found one he recognized and at first it didn’t register anything other than being familiar. Then his laughter stopped suddenly and he sat up.
“Fuck me,” he said, and she said, “Not here.”
He looked up at her and she was still giggling. She saw his face and stopped. He handed her the piece of paper and said, “Third paragraph down, about midway through.”
She found it quickly and looked up at him. “We need to talk to June Littleton.”
As they were driving to June Littleton’s, Jaxon’s phone rang. He answered on the third ring and one of the officers at the Harrison house told him he needed to get over there.
“What’s going on?”
“The Pemberton girl got a package and it must be from the guy.”
“What’s in it?”
The officer told him.
“Shit. On our way.” He turned on his lights and made an illegal u-turn heading back to Annandale. He left the lights flashing but kept the siren silent.
“What’s going on?” Victoria asked after recovering from his violent maneuver.
“Ellie got a package delivered.”
“What?!”
“From him.”
“Is she ok?”
“She’s hysterical. We’re going there first. Call the Crime Scene Techs and get them over there.”
She took her phone out and got things rolling. If the traffic held up, they would get there at the same time.
After she hung up, she said, “Do you know what was in the package?”
He nodded. He told her and she turned and stared out the window. “Fucking bastard,” she said under her breathe.
“Yes.”
They got there a few minutes before the Crime Scene guys and walked into the house. Everyone was in the living room, crowded around Ellie who was still sobbing, holding on to Luke like her life depended on it. It sounded like she was saying, “Get it out of here! Get it out of here!” over and over again.
The officer took them to an upstairs room and showed them the box. Inside was the thawing head of a dog. The mouth was open with a greyish tongue lolling out and its eyes were open, but yellowed with the pupil’s bottom edge showing from beneath the eyelid. The brown, matted fur still had dried blood on it and Jaxon could even see raw flesh where the head had been severed from the torso.
“Is this her dog, Bentley?” Victoria asked.
The officer nodded. “She kept saying that name over and over again after she stopped screaming. The boy said it was her dog. Poor girl’s a wreck.”
“Have you touched anything?” Jaxon asked.
“You know better than to ask me that, sir.”
“Right. Sorry. How did it get here?”
“The brother brought it over along with a suitcase.”
“Do we know how the brother got it?”
“Lucas Harrison said the brother told him it was delivered this morning. I haven’t talked to the brother.”
“Ok. We’ll talk to him. Good job. I’m glad you called us.”
Jaxon took out a pen and used it to flip over the lid of the box exposing the shipping label. It was addressed to Eliana Worthington, not Pemberton. He showed it to Victoria who frowned.
Just then the Crime Scene Techs stomped upstairs with their stuff. Jaxon and Victoria let them do their work.
Walking into the living room, Victoria went to Ellie and touched her shoulder. She was huddled against Luke with her face buried in his sleeve. Natalie Harrison was trying to soothe her, but she appeared inconsolable. Victoria’s touch made her flinch.
“Ellie? It’s Agent Elliot, honey. It’s alright. Can you look at me?”
Ellie turned to her and said, “Is it gone?”
“It will be soon. They have to go over it for evidence.”
The girl’s face fell and a noise escaped her that broke Jaxon’s heart.
“Please, make them hurry!” Ellie said. “I can’t stand to think it’s in this house.”
“Let’s go outside,” Victoria said, standing and extending her hand. Ellie looked from it to Luke, but didn’t move.
“Luke can come with us. It’ll make you feel better. Just until they’re done, ok?”
Ellie nodded and reluctantly took her hand. Her other hand grabbed Luke’s and Victoria walked them out back while Jaxon stayed in and talked to the parents. Ellie looked a little better already.
Ellie’s mother came to the door looking distraught and Jaxon led her to her daughter. Ellie sagged into her mother’s arms and cried even harder. At least her mother was here.
Back inside, Jaxon determined the Harrisons knew very little about the package and he knew his best bet would be to talk to the brother. They would stop by on the way out of the neighborhood after everything calmed down.
The Crime Scene guys finished up quickly at the urging of Jaxon and left with the dog’s head and box within an hour. Ellie looked instantly relieved, but still would not go up to the room. They talked with her about staying at the Harrison’s and the importance of remaining hidden and she said she wanted to stay.
“Would it be ok if I slept in another room?” She asked.
“You can sleep in my room with me,” Deana said, and smiled. “I can move some stuff around and put the blow-up mattress on the floor.”
Ellie smiled and said, “That would be great.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come home, Eliana?” her mother asked.
“I think she will be safer here,” Victoria said. “He sent the package to your house in the belief she would get it there, so he must not know she’s here. Plus, Jaxon and I will be here again tonight, all night, along with the officers out front and back, and the officer in front of your house for appearances.”
Madison Pemberton nodded, but did not look happy. Jaxon was sure she missed her daughter and probably worried herself sick over her being here. Mrs. Harrison must have known it too.
“Madison? You can stay here with her if you like. We have room.”
She hesitated, but then shook her head. “I really appreciate it, Natalie, and I really want to, but that would mean leaving Patrick alone and I couldn’t do that. He won’t stay here even if you begged him.”
“You’re both welcome to stay if you change your mind,” Natalie said, and smiled.
“Thank you,” Madison said, then to her daughter. “Are you alright? If you need me, just call. I’ll answer quick and come over right away.”
Ellie nodded, a few tears showing, but she held it together. She gave her mom a hug and Madison left.
“We’re going to follow your mom to your house so we can talk to Patrick about the package,” Jaxon told Ellie. “The two officers are still here, so don’t worry. If another package shows up, don’t open it. Don’t even bring it into the house. Call us right away and we’ll be over immediately. That goes for everyone. Nobody opens any strange packages.”
“Where are you going after my house?” Ellie asked.
“We have some leads to follow, sweetheart,” Victoria said. “We still have to catch this guy and we’re getting closer.”
“What did you find?” Luke asked.
“Not right now,” Jaxon said. “We’ve got a lot to do so we can get back here tonight. We’ll fill you all in when we get back.”
Luke looked discouraged, but nodded anyway.
“Keep the doors locked and call the officer out front on the radio immediately if something happens. Got it?”
Jeffrey Harrison said, “We’ll be alright.”
Jaxon opened the door and said, “I know you will.” Victoria touched Ellie’s arm and smiled, then she walked out the door and Jaxon followed behind.
“We’re getting too close to this,” he said.
“I know. I don’t care.”
“I’m starting to care too much about those kids.”
“So am I.”
“We’re gonna get burned on this.”
“No way around it,” she said. “I’m not giving this case to anyone else. I can’t let anything happen to those kids. If Holt tries to pull me off, I’ll physically hurt him.” She wasn’t smiling.
“We need to be careful,” he said.
She suddenly stopped and turned on him. “Bullshit! I’m doing no such thing! I’m going to go after this guy like the crazed lunatic that he is! If you want to back off, be my guest, but I’m all in.” He stood there stunned. She turned, walked away, and said, “I thought you would be too.”
He caught up to her and grabbed her arm. “Hey! I’m on your side. I want this guy just as bad as you”
She wouldn’t look at him.
“Look at me,” he said. She moved her eyes to his. “I’m in. How could you think that I wouldn’t be? I’m just worried about you.”
“Well, don’t be. I can take care of myself.”
He smiled at her and said, “I know you can. I should know better than to be all protective around you. But we look out for each other, right? I’ve got your back. You can’t keep me from looking out for you.”
She finally smiled a little. “You’d better.”
They stood like that for a minute, the tension bleeding off.
“We done freakin’ out now?” he said.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go get the asshole then.”
“I love it when you curse,” she said, stepping to the car. “It gets me all worked up.”
“In a good way?”
“You’ll find out later.”
“You said that last night.”
She just smiled at him.
Patrick Pemberton didn’t know squat. Jaxon thought the kid was an asshole too, but that was just his opinion. Teenagers these days were all assholes most of the time.
Victoria had asked him nicely, “Did you happen to see who delivered the package?”
“No. Why?”
“It might help us solve the case, Patrick,” Jaxon said.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“We know that,” Victoria said. “We’re not here to hassle you, we’re just trying to find out some information. Do you know when the package was delivered?”
“No.”
“When did you realize it was here?” Jaxon asked.
“When I left to take Ellie her stupid suitcase.”
“Did you happen to see anyone around or a delivery truck? Anything like that?”
“No.”
“Alright, if you think of anything or remember anything else, call.” Jaxon handed him a business card. He took it and stuffed it in his pocket and shut the door.
“That was a lot of help,” Victoria said.
“No wonder Ellie called him a jerk.”
“Because he is one,” they both said at the same time and then laughed.
Next stop, June Littleton’s. Not only was she pissed because she expected them two hours ago, but apparently her husband was out drinking and hadn’t shown up home yet. She kept looking at her watch and saying, “Son-of-a-bitch.”
Victoria, ever the FBI agent, started the questioning. “Mrs. Littleton, we were going over the interviews from the time of Stewart’s abduction and we wanted to ask you a few questions about Stewart’s friends.”
“That was a long time ago,” she said. “I hope I can remember things.”
“By the way, Mrs. Littleton,” Jaxon said, “When you re-married, why did you keep the name Littleton?”
“I wanted Stewart to be able to find me. If I had changed my name, he wouldn’t know that, would he? He wouldn’t be able to find his way home. Not that it mattered.” She looked at her hands in her lap and fiddled with the tie on her apron.
This is what Jaxon thought, but he wanted to hear it from her. “That was smart,” he said. “I’m so sorry about Stewart.”
She nodded but said nothing.
“Do you remember one of Stewart’s playmates back at that time?” Victoria asked. “His name was Leonard Worthington. He was mentioned a couple of times in the reports and was even interviewed.”
Her face turned cold. “Yes. I remember him.”
“What can you tell us?” Victoria said.
She sighed. “He was a big boy. Six foot something and a lot of muscles for his age. He was older than Stewart, and at times he would let Stewart know this.”
“How much older?”
“Three or four years. Stewart was twelve and the Worthington boy was fifteen or sixteen.”
“At that age, that gap is huge,” Jaxon said. “Why did they even hang out together? It surprises me Leonard would even give a twelve year old the time of day.”
“I thought the same thing, but they got along most of the time.”
“Most of the time?” Victoria asked.
“Every once in a while, Stewart would come home with a bruise, or a lump, or a bloody lip, and he would tell me he fell, or tripped, or ran into a tree. I think the Worthington kid was being rough on him.”
“But Stewart would never admit this to you?”
“No.” She sat thoughtfully for a moment and then said. “I saw the Worthington boy push my Stewart down once. Nothing too bad. It didn’t hurt him or anything, it was just a shove that drove him to his knees, but Stewart got right back up and I let it pass without confronting the older boy. Sometimes as parents, you just have to let the kids work things out for themselves, because if the moms and dads get involved, it usually gets blown all out of proportion.”
Jaxon knew she was right. He’d seen it all too often and had been to a number of calls when he was a rookie patrolman. Calls where the parents were in fistfights over something the twelve year olds did to each other. If they had left it alone, the kids probably would have been back playing with each other in a half an hour.
“So, you could never prove the Worthington boy injured Stewart?”
“No.”
“What else can you remember? Was there a reason a sixteen year old would hang out with your son?” Victoria kept going back to this and Jaxon knew this is what bothered both of them the most.
“Stewart idolized him,” Mrs. Littleton said. “In his eyes, he was the coolest kid on the block with the coolest things. He was fascinated with the Worthington boy’s radio controlled airplane collection and this is what drove Stewart to him.” She smiled. “Stewart loved airplanes.”
“What did you just say?” Jaxon asked.
“Stewart loved airplanes?”
“No. About Leonard Worthington’s collection? Did you say it was radio controlled airplanes?”
“Yes. He had lots of them. Big ones, little ones. The older boy was quite the pilot.”
Victoria turned to Jaxon and they shared a look. June Littleton looked at her watch again and mumbled the same curse at her husband while Jaxon stared at Victoria in disbelief.
“Mrs. Littleton,” Jaxon said. “Where did Leonard live?”
“Three doors down,” she pointed out the window. “Right there. In the grey one.”
Jaxon followed her finger and saw a grey, two-story bungalow sitting back from the street in an overgrown, weed infested yard, the structure looking dilapidated in the late evening light. It looked deserted.
“His parents are dead, right?” Victoria asked.
“Oh, yes. They both died years ago. Car accident. It was a terrible tragedy.”
“Who owns the house now?” Jaxon asked.
“Leonard.”
“Mrs. Littleton, Leonard Worthington’s dead.”
“Oh, nonsense,” she said waving her hand at them. “I saw him the other day. He’s still the big man he always was.”
Jaxon’s draw dropped to his chest. Victoria sat up straighter. “Are you sure you saw him, Mrs. Littleton?”
“Uh-yes. I’m pretty sure I did. He’s hard to miss.”
“Where did you see him?”
“Why, at the house,” she pointed again to the grey two-story. “I hadn’t seen him in so long, but I’m sure it was him. He was wearing an old…”
Jaxon was no longer listening to her. A tumbler in his head dropped into place. Radio controlled airplanes. Diethyl Ether in the fuel. Click! Leonard Worthington was a big man. Ellie and Luke, as well as Mr. Lolly had said the killer was huge. Jaxon had seen him on surveillance. Six four, easy. Click! To Ellie: “I know your father.” Click! To Jaxon: “You’ll regret this.” Click! “These are not Malcom’s. They are mine. I return them to you now.” Click! “That’s what I told Michael. But you never came.” Click!
Jaxon stood. He grabbed his radio and called dispatch to get the SWAT and bomb teams out here immediately. “Mrs. Littleton, I want you to get to your basement and stay there until we say it’s alright to come out.”
She looked terrified. Jaxon’s panicked actions had startled her and now this revelation he hurled at her, pushed her past the limit. “What’s happening?!” she shrieked. “What’s wrong?!”
“Just do it!” he shouted at her and she moved quickly to the basement door and disappeared down the stairs. Victoria had put it together by now, also, and was on her cell coordinating some Federal efforts to assist with whatever they needed here. Leonard Worthington was alive and had been in his parent’s old house.
Jaxon stepped outside with Victoria and walked to the end of the driveway. The grey house stood quiet in the fading light and there were no windows on this side for anyone inside to look out. He looked skyward, trying to see light poles, lamp posts, trees, anywhere a hidden camera or web-cam could be mounted. Victoria joined him and after a moment, grabbed his arm and pointed. Just inside the yard of a house directly across the street from the Worthington home, an old oak stood, its limbs reaching out into the street and over the yards. High up on the trunk, close to where the limbs branched out away from the tree, a small grey box with a black spot in its middle was mounted facing the Worthington house.
“Shit!” he said. “We can’t risk going in there until the bomb guys check it out.”
“Not only that,” she said, “what about the neighbors!”
“Shit! I’ll take this side and you take that! Go!”
Jaxon sprinted to the first house next to the Littleton house and pounded on the door.
“Open up! Police!” He pounded the door until a little old grey haired lady answered. He flashed his badge and instructed her to go into her basement and await further instructions. He told her he didn’t have time to explain. He heard Victoria pounding on doors behind him. He ran to the next house.
Jaxon heard tires squeal in the distance and knew they were coming. Everybody ran silent in a situation like this. Jaxon had made it to four houses when the first squad car pulled up. He ran to it and told the officer to get the other houses’ occupants to the basements. The officer ran off. Two more cars pulled up and then the SWAT team command vehicle rolled in followed by the bomb squad. FBI cars were now showing up too.
Victoria had joined Jaxon and they met the SWAT commander in front of the vehicle. Dark had settled in and the flashing lights cast strange shadows across the trees and houses. If Worthington hadn’t known they were here before, and he was in there, he definitely knew they were here now.
They were discussing the previous house in Indiana with the bomb squad chief when Jaxon’s cell phone went off. It was Halson in the lab.
“There’s a note in the box with the dog’s head,” Halson said. “It was stuck to the underside of the lid.”
“What did it say?” Jaxon asked.
“‘For Daddy’s girl,’” Halson said. Click! Another tumbler in place. This one was so obvious though that Jaxon wondered if he was being led again by the maniac. It was as if he was making it easy.
“Thanks, Billy. Gotta’ go,” and he hung up. His phone rang again almost immediately.
All zeroes on the caller I.D.
He showed it to Victoria who nodded once for him to answer. She had them all quiet down as best she could. He pressed the button.
“Hello Leonard.”
Metallic chuckling came through the speaker and a bit of feedback with it. Jaxon pulled the cell phone away from his ear. “Bravo, Detective. Bravo. Unfortunately, you are a bit slow.”
“We’re coming for you, Leonard.”
“Apparently, you aren’t listening,” Worthington said, turning off the voice distortion.
“Doesn’t matter,” Jaxon said. “You’ve got nowhere to go.”
Jaxon heard what he thought was a whimper come over the speaker and then Worthington said, “Are you listening, now Detective?”
A whine and then a howl of pain as Jaxon recognized Reverb’s cry. The line went dead.
He turned to Victoria. “He’s not here! He’s at my place! Come on!”
They sprinted for his car and yelled for a couple more patrol cars to follow. Victoria got on the phone with the SWAT commander enroute and discussed the options. They decided this team would stay in case Worthington was playing them and was actually here. The bomb squad would stay also and search the area for incendiaries and triggers. The FBI would send a team to Jaxon’s place and they should all reach the apartment at about the same time.
Jaxon had the lights and siren on as they worked their way through the early evening traffic. Luckily it was light, but they had to travel all the way from Reston to Annandale. It was taking too long and Jaxon knew they would miss him. Victoria remained in constant contact with her team at the Bureau and kept Jaxon in the loop.
“We’ll get there,” she said.
Arriving at his place, the FBI group getting to his apartment just before them, Jaxon sprinted from the car, racing for the apartment. Victoria and the FBI team yelled for him to stop, but he was going in no matter what. He knew the killer was not here and he knew there was no bomb waiting for him. The only thing he was unsure of was Reverb.
Bursting into the apartment, he ran from room to room. He stopped short of the kitchen and slumped. Victoria came in behind with her gun drawn, the FBI following behind. She saw Reverb hanging from the light fixture in the small kitchen and moaned.
He had been skinned and eviscerated like game, the muscle and connective tissues still glistening in the fluorescent lights. Jaxon pounded the door frame with a fist and turned away. One of the FBI guys swept past and looked over the area.
Jaxon’s eyes moved to Victoria’s whose look of sadness was probably only matched by his own. She touched his sleeve.
“You guys need to see this,” one of the FBI agents said.
Victoria looked past Jaxon and then moved into the kitchen. Jaxon stayed where he was. Victoria called to him and he finally turned and went into the kitchen. He avoided looking Reverb’s way.
A piece of newspaper was ripped from the main page and scribbled in big black letters were the words, ‘Too Late.’ The asshole used a piece of trash to write on. It was like a slap in the face and Jaxon knew it was meant that way.
“Yeah,” he said, under his breath. “We know we’re too late, you prick.”
Victoria suddenly grabbed his arm. “Oh Shit! Maybe he means we’re too late for the kids!”
Jaxon grabbed his phone and dialed the number. With a sinking feeling and everyone silent around him, the phone rang and rang. He hung it up and pulled the radio off his belt.
“Guardian 1, this is Jaxon, over.”
Silence. “Guardian 1, this is Jaxon, do you copy!”
They ran for the cars.