Heartless: a Derek Cole Mystery Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 1) (24 page)

   

“Agreed. Stay safe, Mr. O’Connell,” Derek added.

   

“Call me Ken, and you stay safe as well.”

It was no more than five minutes after his call with Ken ended that his cell phone rang again. This time, the caller ID told Derek the caller was from the Piseco Lake area.

   

“You left so damn fast that I didn’t even get your cell number. Had to do some research to find it,” Ralph Fox slurred.

Though Derek had left Ralph just a few minutes ago, it sounded like Ralph was at least an hour into a happy hour.

   

“Miss me already, Ralph?” Derek said.

   

“Not entirely, but I do think it wise that you and I maintain a certain level of ongoing communications regarding our shared case. And since I believe I made you a member of my team, I do believe the chain-of-command position that I have affords me the ability to expect an open line of information sharing with you.”
 

   

“I told Ken O’Connell that he was on speaker phone and that you and Smith heard everything he said,” Derek said.

   

“I figured you would,” Ralph said, his voice now sounding clear and solid “I noticed a change in your face when O’Connell said that he was in Chicago. Bet you no longer like him for these crimes?”

   

“I’m still not sure, but his reasons for not getting on that plane make sense to me. To me, he’s someone who had a horrible injustice happen to him and someone who wants to deliver his own type of justice to the doctors.”

   

“Honestly,” Ralph said, “I don’t blame him at all. Now since we are sharing like a couple of school girls here, I do feel compelled to let you know that Captain Smith is going to keep an eye on your movements. He ain’t got the resources he’d like to have you trailed, but part of the reason he took your cell phone was to allow his smart people to trace your whereabouts. Ain’t sure if he can tap your calls, but he is going to know where you are at, most of the time.”

   

“That’s good to know. Thanks Ralph.”

     

While he was still talking with Ralph, Derek heard the familiar “beep” of his cell phone, alerting him to an incoming call.

   

“Ralph, I have another call coming in. I’ll get back to you later.”

He ended the call with Ralph and answered the incoming call.

   

“Derek Cole,” he said.

   

“Derek, it’s Thomas. Did you speak with my father yet?” The sound of wind and rain could be heard in the background.

   

“I did. He’s fine. Just wants me to keep him informed. He told me that you are on a boat out on Lake Michigan. Seems like a pretty safe place to be.”

   

“Didn’t think you wanted to know where I was,” Thomas said through a soft chuckle. “And I have two of his goons around me at all times. My father tends to go overboard, pardon the boating pun.”

   

“He seems like a smart man. You just make sure you don’t fall overboard. That lake can get rough, and it sounds like it’s raining out your way.”

   

“Little summertime storm. We pulled in close to the marina, so were not a sitting target out in the middle of the lake. Listen, I called you because I was just given some more information that you probably need to know.”

   

“Shoot,” Derek said.

   

“My father’s goons are pretty well connected, as you might imagine. They have friends working in police departments all over the country. This isn’t confirmed yet, but there was a doctor murdered in the same hospital that Brian Lucietta works. Happened a few hours ago. Middle of the day. And before you ask, they don’t have anyone in custody.”

     

The likelihood that Alexander had at least one accomplice was now a certainty for Derek. The fact that six murders had occurred in three different parts of the country, each separated by at least six hours of driving, made the possibility of one person acting alone virtually impossible.

   

“Thanks for the update,” he said to Thomas.

   

“I don’t know what my father wants you to focus your efforts on, but I figured you’d be interested.”

   

“The more I know about all the players, the better.”

   

“That’s all I have. I’ll be heading back out beyond cell coverage as soon as this storm passes, so I will be out of range for a while,” Thomas said.

   

“Stay dry,” Derek said as he ended the call.

     

Derek slowed his car down to the reduced thirty-five speed limit as he approached the small Adirondack town of Speculator, New York. Feeling hungry, he started looking for a quiet place to eat, think, and to process the events of the day. Off to his right, he spotted a small pizzeria and deli that only had two cars parked in the lot in front.
 

     

Before he could shut off his car, his cell phone rang again.

   

“Derek Cole,” he said, amazed at how many times his normally quiet cell had rung in the last twenty minutes.

   

“Alexandria Bay. River’s Edge Resort,” the voice of Ken O’Connell said. “My resources tracked the Mixes down. They made reservations under the name ‘McClury,’ and checked in last night.”

The excitement was abundant in Ken’s voice.
 

   

“I’ll head up there now,” Derek said. “I found out that my cell phone location is being traced, so I will turn it off as soon as this call is done.”

   

“Fine. If you can’t contact me by 8:00, call me whenever you can, no matter the time. I just want you to identify Stanley and Michelle and confirm that they are in the resort. Understood?”

   

“Understood. I’m going to grab some lunch, pull up the directions, and head up to find them.”

   

“Don’t engage them. Just identify them, and contact me right away. If they leave, I need you to follow them. I’ll email you their pictures so that you can mark them.”

   

“Sounds good.” Derek pulled into the parking lot of the pizzeria, turned his car off and sighed deeply. While his suspicions about Ken O’Connell remained, he felt like he, Ken, and Thomas were all working together towards the same goal. Derek never wanted to become friends with his clients. He intentionally made decisions to prevent learning too much about his clients as well as letting them know too much about him. As he sat in the parking lot, listening to Ken’s altered instructions, he wondered, if things were different, if he and the O’Connells may have enough in common to become friends.

   

“I hear that the Chicago area is getting some storms. Hope your weather clears out soon,” Derek said, cutting off his thoughts and giving the conversation a logical ending.

   

“Weather? There’s not a cloud in the sky around the whole area.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

His head was swimming. Each time he reached a conclusion, another thought changed the course of his thinking and suggested an alternative. As he drove the three hours the trip to Alexandria Bay would take, Derek rode in absolute silence.

     

His phone was turned off and stuffed inside of a lead- and aluminum-lined bag that prevented any signals from getting out or into his phone. Though he usually would spend his windshield time listening to music at the highest volume a car’s system could pump out, the radio in his rental car was silent.

     

“Not raining in the Chicago area,”
he thought to himself. He had confirmed the weather report using his MyRadar app on his iPhone before shutting it down. The only place of interest that was experiencing a “summertime storm” was the greater New York City area. Chicago and almost the entirety of Lake Michigan were enjoying a beautiful summer day.

   

“How could he be in New York if he has his father’s ex-military people watching him? Is it possible that the whole family is involved in these murders and that there are no ‘goons’ protecting Thomas since he doesn’t need protection?”

The miles passed. Each mile marker bringing Derek further away from clarity.
 

     

Derek had grown comfortable with silence, though he still would prefer to have someone to be with in most situations. Someone to talk with. Someone to enjoy the silence with. Lucy made him comfortable with silence. When they first met, Derek felt compelled to always keep a conversation going. Failing that, Derek would either whistle, sing softly to himself, or have either the radio or television on in the background to break up the absent silence.

   

“We don’t always have to be talking, you know,” Lucy stated. “You don’t have to worry about keeping a conversation going
all the time.
Sometimes I just like to sit with you and not have to say anything.”

   

“But everyone always says that communication is the key to a lasting marriage,” he rebutted.

   

“Sometimes, the best way to communicate is just to be with me in silence.”

     

He tried to just sit and not talk with her, but he found it harder than Lucy expected.

   

“Have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe, I am really interested in hearing what you have to say?” he asked one evening after sitting next to Lucy on their couch silently for over an hour.

   

“Have you ever considered that the reason you always want to talk with me is that you are afraid of what I might be thinking about when not talking?”

Lucy was talented at reading people, especially Derek. His attempts to keep his fears and insecurities hidden were in vain. If he asked a strange question, she always could figure out what Derek was really trying to uncover.

   

“Until you learn to listen more than you speak, you’ll never make a good detective,” she told him once after he found out that he didn’t get the promotion with the Columbus Police Department he was expecting. “God gave you two ears and one mouth. Use them in that proportion.”

     

Derek worked on being comfortable with silence. After a while, he actually grew to look forward to times when he and Lucy could just sit together and digest their days in silence. As long as she was in the same room as he, Derek could go hours without muttering a single sound.

   

“It’s nice. Isn’t it?” she asked one night. “To just be together and not have to always struggle to think of something to say.”

Derek glanced at his wife as he sat across their living room and raised his index finger to his lips.

   

“Shhh,” was the only response he offered in answer.

Lucy smiled.

Derek remembered that night. How they laughed together. How they talked about starting a family some day. About their upcoming vacation to Maui and how Lucy would someday be able to stop working as a children’s counselor and be able to stay home and raise their kids. He remembered how they made love that night and how wonderful it felt to just hold her. There was no way of knowing that the next day, Lucy would be dead.

     

As he continued driving through the twisting roads of the Adirondack Park, Derek could clearly see and hear the events of Lucy’s final day.
 

     

The call came in over his police radio while Derek and his partner, Bill Manner, were on routine patrol. They responded along with at least twenty other patrol officers, lead investigators, Derek’s lieutenant and Captain, and the two hostage negotiators.
 

     

The call came through as “10-42, 10-43b, First Metropolitan Bank. 423 North Main.” Officer Manner new to the police force asked Derek what the codes meant.

   

“Robbery in progress, and shots fired. Looks like we are headed to a bank robbery.”

     

When Derek arrived on scene, he was approached by his Captain. The look on his face was one that sent immediate concern warnings to Derek.

   

“Officer Cole, I need you to stay back from the scene.”

   

“What’s happened?” he asked, his voice dripping his fear.

   

“Your wife is in the bank with the gunman. He’s already shot the kid she was with. Hostage negotiators are trying to establish communications with the suspect now. You need to stay back.”

   

“Captain, I know this bank like the back of my hand,” Derek pleaded. “I do security for them on my off days.”

   

“Officer Cole, I need you to stay back and let the experts handle this.”

   

“If he’s already killed one, why wait and give him time to shoot someone else? I could get in the back entrance without him ...”

   

“Cole,” his Captain interjected. “I need you to let us handle this one. You running in through back door with your level of emotional involvement will probably end poorly. Let the experts handle this.”

     

Derek could see into the bank through the front window and could make out five, maybe six people all prone on the floor. Towards the teller counter, he could see the gunman holding a woman in front of him with his gun pressed to her temple.

   

“This is detective Allen Green,” a voice boomed from a patrol car’s loudspeaker. “I’m here to make sure that no one else gets hurt.”

Other books

Firebrand by Prioleau, R.M.
Broken Dolls by Tyrolin Puxty
Weathering by Lucy Wood
Bite Me by Shelly Laurenston
The Friends of Eddie Coyle by George V. Higgins
I Drink for a Reason by David Cross