Bill had gotten tired of staking out the house. He couldn't see or hear anything. They looked like they were properly scared and were staying inside the house. Well, Bill knew he could make better use of his time. He would just be patient. They had to come out sometime.
He had decided to become a Private Investigator when they had forced him out of the Rangers. Just thinking about it still made him mad.
He had been part of a secret mission in Columbia. They were supposed to find a cocaine lab, destroy it along with all drug making equipment inside, and arrest everyone involved.
They had been dropped near where the lab was supposed to be and spent several days locating it. They spent an extra day watching the people's actions. They logged when everyone came and went and made a plan. There were eight in Bill's group, but the Lab was heavily guarded and there were always lots more than eight guards surrounding the lab or inside it.
They knew when everyone inside ate dinner. They had sent one man down to a point where he could watch through a window. They decided to go in when most of them were all in one room.
There were only two doors, so half were to take one door and half the other. There were also several guards outside that had to be neutralized first.
Bill had been chosen to take out two guards on the right hand side. He had volunteered for it eagerly. He was supposed to knock them out and tie them up, but had slit their throats instead. He had enjoyed watching them die in agony.
Bill was one of the first ones in. One guard inside the eating area spotted him and reached for his weapon. Bill had his M-16 on fully automatic and had turned it on everyone in the eating area. Every one of the sixteen workers or guards in the room had either been killed or badly wounded.
Bill had been enraged when he was brought before a Board of Inquiry about his actions.
He had exploded when questioned about his killing of the two guards. He had tried to get at the soldier who was acting as prosecuting attorney and had to be led from the inquiry room by four MP's.
Bill had undergone psychological questioning had had been found unfit to serve his country. He had decided that he really didn't care. He wanted to kill civilians anyway.
Father Dan had been first. Bill had stolen one of his practice rifles a long time ago and had hidden it in a water tight package where only he could find it. It was a long drive back to where he had gone through basic training, but it was still right where Bill had left it. And it still looked brand new.
Finding Father Dan turned out to be easy too. He had changed churches, but it was on the way from where Bill had gone through basic training to where he had grown up. So, he had found a spot where he couldn't be noticed and patiently waited until he saw Father Dan by himself. It was almost too easy to shoot him once in the head, hurry back to his car, wipe down the rifle, and throw it in a nearby river on the way back to the highway.
Bill was smiling at the thought as he drove up to the exclusive shop. He had hated being a Private Investigator. He liked being on the other side of the law much more. But his license did come in handy now and then. He knew just what he wanted. It was going to be expensive, but he really couldn't have cared less.
There had been lots of improvement in listening devices in the last few years. He had read about this one in a magazine he subscribed to. When you pointed it at a house from up to two blocks away, you could hear everything said inside it. The device was supposed to be available only to the FBI, CIA, and the Police. Bill knew he was going to have to pay the owner several hundred dollars under the table to be able to buy one, but with his Private Investigator's license, lots of cash, and an already prepared story of a husband cheating on his wife, Bill was sure he would get what he was after.
And, he wasn't wrong. He was just surprised he couldn't get the owner to take less than $500 in cash to let him buy it plus over $3,000 for the device.
Bill also bought a tracking device for cars that used a high powered magnet to attach itself to any part of a car surface, plus a hand held tracking device. It cost another $500. He didn't know if he would need it, but he wanted to be prepared in any situation.
Money wasn't a priority to Bill. Finding Brian alone was.
"Here you go, sport. Your favorite meal. A double whopper with cheese, super sized fries and a chocolate shake," Justyn said, as he sat the food down next to Luke. "I don't know how you can eat that kind of stuff and still stay as skinny as you are."
"You come in here on a Saturday night asking for a favor and immediately start making fun of me?" Luke asked.
Justyn just grinned back at him. "Hey, I did bring food, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you aren't all bad, I guess," Justyn answered as he started to get his food out of the bag. "Where's yours?"
"I ate on the way over here. Can I load the pictures into your computer?" Justyn asked, as got out the floppy disk containing the pictures and put it in the slot.
"Don't even think about touching my PC. No one does anything with it, except me," Luke answered.
"Ok, Ok. Geez. I was just trying to help," Justyn answered. "How long will the search take?"
"It depends on the search criteria and what matching percentage you want to give it. If you give it 100% matching, it goes lots slower. If you say 50%, it runs lots faster, but you have to be here when it returns something and you have to tell it to keep going or it stops," Luke answered.
"Try it on 50% to start with. To be safe, I'd say start the end of February and go back six months," Justyn answered.
"What news papers do you want me to scan?" Luke asked.
"I don't know. Whatever's in Detroit," Justyn answered.
Luke just rolled his eyes. "I should have known I'd have to do all the work," he said, as he copied the pictures into a directory he created and then started opening them one by one. "You into kiddy porn now?" he kidded as the pictures showed the boy slowly taking off his clothes.
Justyn just grinned back. "Not a chance and you know it. I have a bad suspicion that this boy might be dead. That's what we're looking for."
"His obituary?" Luke asked.
"Yeah, or maybe something about an accident," Justyn answered.
"If his picture wasn't in the paper, my program won't find anything," Luke answered.
"I know. I'm just trying to be thorough. I know it's a long shot," Justyn admitted.
Luke just shrugged his shoulders, selected a couple of the earlier pictures, then accessed them with his new search software. He went to a city search option and entered Detroit Michigan. It immediately came back with The Detroit News, Detroit Free Press, and Oakland News.
"Well, that's not good. They have three papers. That will increase the search time," Luke said.
"Well, I don't have anything else to do. Start the search and let's see what happens," Justyn answered.
Luke entered the dates he wanted to cover and started the search. Then he started eating as they watched a counter steadily increment the number of pages and number of faces scanned.
Luke had finished eating and had gotten up to throw away his trash when the computer beeped loudly. "It's got a hit," Luke answered, as he walked back over. It was an obituary column about a 16 year old boy named Matt English that had died of a fatal car crash.
"Can you print that out," Justyn asked.
"Sure. Let me drag that part of the paper over here like this," Luke said, as he demonstrated his technique. "Then I cut out everything around it, like this. Save it to its folder, and print."
The page started printing immediately. Justyn got it when it finished printing and then said, "Can you make it go back a little further?"
"Sure," Luke answered, as he activated it again. It didn't find anything else as both watched for several minutes.
"I guess I'll have to read through all the sections of that paper for a week before when this was printed and see if I can find anything about the accident," Justyn said.
"Just give me a couple of minutes," Luke answered. He wrote down the date of the obituary column and then rapidly changed the search criteria from pictures to words. He typed in the boy's name, adjusted the dates and hit enter.
In less than ten seconds, it came back with a match. His tire had blown out on the expressway and he lost control, crossed the median, and hit a tractor trailer truck head on. Luke printed out that article and handed it to Justyn.
"This looks like a regular traffic accident to me," Luke said.
"Yeah, me too. I'm going to make a couple of phone calls though," Justyn answered.
"Well, good luck," Luke said. "Is it all right if I go home now, master?"
"You could check and see if any prints were found on the bottle I have in the Lab before you go," Justyn answered.
"You don't want much, do you?" Luke asked.
"Hey, you might be out of a job if I wasn't always bringing in evidence for you to work on. Then you'd have to go back to live with your mother, and I know you don't want that," Justyn answered. "Plus, I did give you some new porn shots to add to your collection."
"Don't do me any favors," Luke said. "Ok, I'll check before I leave. Are you going to be in your office?" Luke asked.
"I thought I would use your PC here," Justyn joked, as he sat down in front of the keyboard.
Luke reached around him, hit control alt delete and quickly locked his PC. "You touch anything on my computer and I'll never let you in here again," he kidded.
"Ok, I guess I'll be in my office," Justyn laughed, as he walked out the door and Luke walked towards the Lab.
Justyn looked up the phone number for the Detroit Police Department and quickly dialed it.
"Police Department."
"This is Detective Justyn Jones from the Atlanta Police Department. I'm investigating a car wreck that happened February 12th. A 1994 Nissan Maxima crossed the center line and was hit head on by a truck. The driver was a Caucasian male around 16 named Matt English."
"I remember that case. Detective Morris handled it. But he won't be in until Monday morning."
"Do you have his home phone number?" Justyn asked.
"Is this an emergency?"
"No, Justyn admitted, "but it's really important."
"It had better be, Detective Jones. Detective Morris doesn't like calls at home," the dispatcher said. But he did give Justyn the phone number.
"Hello?"
"Detective Morris, this is Detective Jones from the Atlanta Police Department. Your office told me you investigated a car crash involving a young man named Matt English in February," Justyn said.
"I did. What about it?" Detective Morris answered.
"Was there anything unusual about it?" Justyn asked.
"You mean other than the fact he got both rear tires shot out while he was driving at a high rate of speed?" Detective Morris answered.
"What?" Justyn asked.
"You have a hearing problem, Detective?" Detective Morris asked.
"Look, I'm sorry to be calling you at home, but I have a man threatening a 16 year old boy here in Atlanta. I think he might have also killed a boy in North Carolina. And I think I can link him to Matt English. Now, do you want to help me over the phone or do I need to have my Chief of Police call yours Monday morning?" Justyn asked loudly.
"That won't be necessary, Detective Jones, but there isn't much else to tell you. I think it was gang related. Witnesses saw the vehicle, but the tags it had on it at the time turned out to be stolen. It had dark tinted glass, so they couldn't even see how many were in the car," Detective Morris answered.
"Was the case ever solved?" Justyn asked.
"No, it wasn't," Detective Morris answered.
"Do you remember what kind of vehicle it was?" Justyn asked.
"Sure. A dark green Jeep Larado," Detective Morris answered.
Justyn's heart beat nearly doubled. He knew instantly that it was Bill.
When he didn't say anything for a long time, Detective Morris finally said, "Are you still there?"
"Yes. I think these cases are related, Detective Morris. Can you have someone fax your report to my office?" Justyn asked.
"Sure. Call me with the number Monday morning," Detective Morris said and hung up. Justyn almost called him back in anger, but thought better of it. He was still staring into space, thinking about what Detective Morris had told him, when Luke walked into his office.
"Is that how you get your work done? You just stare at the walls and wait until I do it for you?" Luke asked.
Justyn just grinned at him and asked, "You find anything?"
"You owe me big time for this. No more hamburgers. I want a two pound lobster," Luke answered.
"What did you find?" Justyn asked, interested now.
"Well, the plastic bottle was a mixture of sugar and water, just like you thought. It had a very high concentration of sugar in it. But that isn't the best part," Luke answered.
"What?" Justyn asked. He was about to jump out of his chair and choke Luke if he didn't tell him.
"We got prints off the bottle. We have a positive identification. Ex-military. Medical Discharge. His name is Bill Adams. 46 years old. He lives in Charlotte, North Carolina," Luke answered.
"WHAT?" Justyn yelled.
To Be Continued
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