Book One: Part II: Random Evil - Chapter Four
The Squad Room – 8:19 a.m.
December 27th – Thursday – 8:19 a.m.
“This is going to be a day where you all have your emergency kits handy, and in the break room, I want each one of you to grab ten blankets, ten winter coats and an extra car battery with you.
“Montie is not a metro city; we all know this, but we do have people out there that are homeless that may not have a coat, yet alone a place to stay.
“Because this weather isn’t going to let up temp wise; I am issuing an order that all homeless people are to be picked up and delivered to one of the four churches on this list I’m handing out. AND, if the churches are full, then bring them to the jail. I’ll be damned if we let someone freeze to death out there. Just like the church, we can at least give them a meal in the morning.
“Nothing really new to share in the way of Waynestead or the St. Peter’s killer.
“Watch out for traffic accidents today. I would hope only those that really need to be out in this weather; the rest would stay home.”
“Fat chance of that,” said Hinkle. “Places like Wal-Mart, Office Max, and Food Lion, etcetera; they have to make a living. That’s prosperity and the American way of life. My granddaddy called it, greed.”
“At least your granddaddy knew the truth for what it’s worth,” said another cop called, Horner.
“Okay, guys. That’s something we could debate for days and still get different answers. Either way, it’s that time. Hit the break room on your way out.
“Get out there and stay safe and keep our streets safe.”
As Baker was headed toward her office, she saw Ed and motioned for him to come in.
“What’s up, Baker?”
“Last night I told Stevie I’m sending him back home until I can be assured there won’t be any problems if Waynestead does come back here. I can’t rule her out, not until I know she’s back under lock and key again.
“Stevie’s flight leaves out mid-afternoon tomorrow, and I’m asking you to cover for me while I’m gone. Handle the meeting in the morning. I want to have the next several hours with him.”
“Can do. Will do. I know how much he means to you, Baker. You’re a good cop, and a good mother. If he were my son, I’d probably do the same thing.
“Now, I have to get up with Rodgers and let him know what’s going on. Meantime, if there is anything I can do to help, just let me know.”
“Thank you, Ed. I appreciate that. Have a day and be careful. Tell Rodgers the same. Machelli is a dangerous man.”
“Not to worry. We can handle this one. It’ll be a pleasure to see that piece of scum in handcuffs.”
Ed left her office, and then Baker proceeded to pull out files that she does every Thursday to check on missing persons. Mainly young kids. There are five boys and three girls, twelve to sixteen where the bodies have never been recovered. This was always a personal thing for her. Families need closure, and until she could locate every child, those families would never be fully at peace.
The Raid – 2:09 p.m.
Everything went according to plan. Twenty-four policemen under the direction of Rodgers and Ed hit eleven businesses belonging to Machelli.
Machelli screamed, cursed, and threatened lawsuits, but there was no denying the warrants. The next several hours would uncover an illegal operation that had been ongoing for a number of years; one that would find Machelli going away for a very long time.
Including Machelli, thirty-one others were arrested, and charged with numerous crimes from extortion, to murder. When the dust would finally settle on all this, Machelli would end up getting forty years in Attica. As it would later happen, he would die there. He was sixty-seven when arrested. Eight years into his sentence, he had a heart attack on the prison yard.
No one came to his funeral.
Friday - December 28th - 2:35 p.m.
Johnson County Airport
“You know, Stevie, if there could be another way, I wouldn’t put you on this plane. I miss you already.”
“I understand, mom. We’ll have other vacations, other times. It’s not like you’ll never see me again.”
“It’s just that my job seems to be getting in the way more and more when you’re here. So next time, I tell you what is going to happen. When you and I make plans for you to come out next summer, I’m taking three weeks of vacation time, so we can have our time together be special. For once, just the two of us. No cell phones, no three in the morning calls, no nothing except you and me, bub.”
“That will be way cool. Just us doing outrageous things. Riding the rapids, going to Six Flags, and riding the awesome rides, maybe go hang-gliding and ….”
“Slow down, Stevie.” She shook her head and smiled. “We’ll work on that later. Right now, they’ve called your flight for boarding. We better get you to the boarding gate. Let’s go.”
She hugged and kissed him on the cheek, and Stevie gave her an even bigger and tighter hug back. It was what he said before he left that caught her by surprise and confirmed her belief in who she is.
“Mom, the vacation next year is a really great idea, but if something comes up, it’s cool. Outside of being my mom, being a cop is all you know. And you do it so well.”
She stood by the loading gate and kept her eye on him until he was out of sight.
How did he get to be so smart?
As she was headed to the airport parking lot, her cell phone rang.
“This is Baker.”
“Lieutenant Baker? This is Millicent Washington. You called my office. I was out of town.”
“I just have one question, Ms. Washington.”
She got her answer. Bishop Ekerson did come back for his hat.
The Tail – 3:04 p.m.
She followed Baker from her townhouse to the airport, waiting patiently.
Without too much expertise, she had seen the unmarked car sitting across the street from Baker’s home, so she knew she couldn’t just knock on the door and say, “Hi, it’s me,” and then slash her into a million pieces.
She would have to catch her completely off guard somewhere, and it would have to be quick. Too many people meandering around the airport parking lot, but she was enjoying following Baker around, who hadn’t a clue she was here.
She was bored last night. Nothing to do.
Claire had seen a really nice-looking man who checked in two rooms down from her and she was almost tempted to rearrange his face, but that would have meant announcing her arrival, and she wanted that to be a surprise.
Over the next hour, she continued following Baker to a grocery store. She parked far enough away and waited. From there, there was a trip to Wal-Mart which only took about ten minutes. Then to a corner bookstore where she dashed inside, returned with a newspaper tucked under her arm and a bag of Skittles. Then it was back to her townhouse.
Claire had followed her everywhere, and when she came home, Claire continued on, driving past her place, again seeing an unmarked car, still in the same spot.
She realized this was going to be easier than she thought.
Just not today.
“Soon though, you bitch. Then I can get on with my life as it’s supposed to be.”
Crosstown – A Family Home
Saturday – December 29th – 10:30 a.m.
Jarrod was once again in the shed, only this time, he was removing weapons; grenades, ammunition, two pretty pearl-handed .45’s, and a Beretta. His parents were gone for a few hours, so this gave him plenty of time to put his plan together.
He was going to prove he could handle his life without his parents help, or any of his classmates, or anyone else for that matter who believed they knew more than he did.
In two days, his first new year’s resolution would take place and come true. He would start his new life as his own man, with his own rules.
Baker’s Townhouse – 5:35 p.m.
Baker had just gotten off the phone with Ed, wishing him a Happy New Year. She wouldn’t be back in her office until the second.
Reflecting back, the year was going to end rather well for a change. What with Machelli behind bars, Rodgers up for a commendation, Stevie safe, and the day peaceful for a change, things seemed to shift into relax mode for her.
Then came her call from Stevie, who told her he was back home. He told her he couldn’t wait to come back so they could spend time together.
All in all, her life felt as full as he could be.
The only thing that would make the end of this year better would have been to catch the St. Peter’s killer, grab Waynestead, and send her back to Buffalo’s mental ward, but with tighter restraints.
But what if she doesn’t give anyone a choice this time and forces one of us to shoot, maybe even kill her.
If it happens, so be it.
She walked to her front window and looked outside. She could see the car sitting across the street. Otherwise, the night was quiet.
Where are you Claire?
Sunday in Montie
December 30th
People old and young alike were making preparations for the New Year’s Eve bash that would take place with fireworks in the city park.
Many did what they always do on a Sunday morning; attend church services. Montie is, for the most part, a small quiet town of nearly 45,000 people who have an unspoken respect for their town’s history, dating back to the pre-revolutionary war.
Montie has seen many sons and daughters go to war and not come home alive. But the memories are strong, and the respect is there.
Montie has seen its fair share of problems with crime and injustice but the residents have always managed to come together in a crisis, and like 911, they lend a hand to a neighbor, and help where and when they can.
On this day, sidewalks will be shoveled, there will be family dinners, friends coming together, and lovers enjoying the quiet from a snow that has finally abated. Fireplaces will glow, and crackling embers will dance in the flames, but the worries of the world will not affect what they do this day.
Montie is a strong town, with strong people. A good place to raise a family.
Rodgers will be at home with his wife, Margaret, laughing and carrying on, while attempting to show her how to flambé a steak. Rodgers is a very good cook. Ed will be watching a playoff football game. Another officer, Satchell, will be remembering a love lost with a fond remembrance, as he does every Sunday. Captain Todd and his wife will be having a quiet dinner at home. He will discuss with her his thoughts about retiring soon, and where they can go to live out the years peacefully. Baker will reflect back on the loss of her parents, a tear sliding down, not from sadness, but in remembering what they meant to her.
These people and others, will all come to a point in knowing who they are and what their lives can accomplish with courage and faith.
Then of course there was Claire, whose driving ambition was to lay waste to Baker. Her hatred consumed her, and holiday festivities weren’t on her things to-do list. Baker however, was.
Crosstown, Freddy prepared himself a simple meal, nothing extravagant. New York Strip and baked potato with Italian cut beans.
Sitting at the table, between bites of his meal, he studied his itinerary for the next six months. His schedule was a busy one. The false identity he used around town would soon have to come to an end. Almost a shame, he thought. Fresh doughnuts in the morning just makes the day that much sweeter.
Crosstown – A Family Home
Monday - December 31st – 11:58 p.m.
Jarrod’s parents were glued to ABC’s Rock and Roll New Year’s Eve celebration in New York City, and opted to stay home instead of being at the park where thousands attended.
Though Dick Clark wasn’t the host any longer, Jarrod’s parents were caught up in the glitz and glamour of watching the ball, awaiting the countdown.
Big deal.
“Jarrod,” his mother said, “come in here. They are about to start the countdown to let the ball go! Hurry!”
Jarrod grabbed the Beretta from under his mattress with the silencer attached, placed in inside the back of his jeans, and walked into the living room.
“You almost missed it,” said his father. “Only about thirty seconds left. Countdown is going to start here pretty quick.”
“Another new year for all of us,” cried his mother, happily.
Twenty seconds.
Ten seconds.
Jarrod pulled the Beretta out in front of him.
Five seconds.
“Happy New Year, mom and dad.”
They both turned to wish him the same.
Both froze with what they saw.
It was a bit messy.
The first shot hit his mother in the cheek. The second, in his father’s throat.
Standing over his mother, he pressed the gun up against the back of her head, like they do in the movies, and squeezed the trigger. She stopped screaming and moving, lying face down on the carpet.
Turning, he saw his father clawing his way toward the phone. Not good. He fired three more times. One missed, one struck him in the chest, the other in the stomach; his father’s body twisted across the recliner as if in slow motion as he tumbled to the floor with his left arm draped across his wife’s stomach as if they had fallen asleep.
The start of a new year was in full swing.
Jarrod sat down in his father’s recliner and watched the rest of the show, munching potato chips and drinking his father’s glass of wine.
Afterward, he went upstairs and took a shower and went to bed.
He got the first of his resolutions out of the way.
He felt much better.