Brad said encouragingly,
but with less conviction than he truly believed, “We have a good
plan and even if a lot of tourists come, his MO is always in the
victim’s house. That fact gives us an even chance to catch the guy.
If he does strike and we get a line on him, I fear he will be lost
in the throngs of tourists. I believe he is there now and I’m going
to put on a disguise of my own and hang around town for awhile.
Sujin will stay here until the date of the festival and then meet
me in Anacortes.
“Brad we have covered a lot
of ground together, but this case is our most difficult to date. As
we all know, some serial killers are never caught or if caught it
is by a fluke like the Unabomber.”
A very sobering statement
and not without the agreement, however as they say, tomorrow is
another day, Brad thought. “Well, Steve, we have been under the gun
before and we will put this guy to rest one way or another. If I
get the chance, I’ll put this guy down and out. I’m not interested
in some shrink digging at his infected rotten brain. I’m paid to
stop this guy and my team will do what we’re here for.”
Having said that, Brad went
down to the computer room to download Goggle Earth and look at
Anacortes. His earlier look had been from Billy and said a perfect
little house resided at the end of 32
nd
St. It was a straight shot to downtown to highway 20 which
ran around the outside perimeter of Anacortes and then proceeded
west bound to the airport and Ferries to some other islands of the
San Juan area, including a ferry that went to Sidney/Vancouver, BC.
After looking at the map Brad decided to make sure a helicopter was
sitting at the airport ready to go along with his NASA jet. Just in
case this guy made a run for it aboard a ferry he wanted to be able
to cover all bases. Especially if the roads were gridlocked from
tourists. Next he wanted some bike riders who were expert street
riders. He thought maybe three at the airport and three at the
harbor; and one for himself. He’d cut his teeth riding dirt bikes
and street bikes.
They left with no dog this
time. No doubt John remembered Rocky at his pig farm and when they
left the next morning, Rocky had fit his master was leaving without
him. Both he and Sandy sat there watching the car leave like a
mother dropping off her kids at the day care center.
About four hours later they
landed at the Anacortes airport. Nancy had flown up in the
helicopter and they went downtown for lunch with the rest of the
team. Billy was jumping up and down like a little kid; except for
the cigarette hanging out of his mouth he could have been seen as a
retard he was so happy!
Later at a restaurant near
the airport Brad laid out his plan and told Nancy what he would
like from the FBI. Specifically a helicopter, six expert motorcycle
law enforcement agents and not necessarily from the FBI, five
agents at least at the ferry terminal and when a ferry left two
agents riding the ferry on festival days; and the sheriff’s
department with the state police blocking off all outlets out of
the town. No one leaves without proving who they are with ID to
match. All side roads set up with road blocks after eight am. He
went on to tell them he wanted the town locked down top to bottom
side to side and a communication system linking everyone to the
day’s activities.
All were either taking notes
or listening with their full attention. This was their chance to
nab the guy and if he got away this time after murdering someone,
there would be hell to pay somewhere up and down the line. Steve
felt more comfortable hearing the plan. He left to go outside a
make a call to Washington DC.
After lunch all dispersed to
their respective jobs and Brad went to a motel to check out his
simple disguise. Billy stayed at the same motel and he and Brad
talked the rest of the afternoon about how John might ply his trade
on a senior. “Giving away free flowers is one way,” Billy said.
“Hell, let’s be real here. We have no idea what he will do and our
best bet is Mike. However, the professional John is with makeup and
disguise, will he see through Mike?”
“I’m afraid so Billy. One
thing that bothers me is if he feels the heat is too much, will he
give up and hit somewhere else while we sit here with the town
surrounded. And what if he hits Arden first?”
“No, I think he will try and
show us he is smarter than we are,” said Billy. “It wouldn’t
surprise me if he comes up to you around town and starts a
conversation to prove he can fool you,” he added
quickly.
“I think we must be on full
alert and ready to move at the slightest hint of his movements. A
lot is riding on this manhunt and somehow we got to stop him before
a lot of copy cats jump on the band wagon. The press is calling for
our heads and if this one slips by us, we can probably kiss our
jobs goodbye,” he said with the truth written all over it. Brad
never believed for a minute this guy held the upper
hand.
* * *
A week before the festival
John sat comfortably in his room in Wenatchee. He was in solid with
the locals. Tomorrow he would go to Seattle and pick up his new ID
from a safety deposit box. Years before he had a guy in LA make him
ten ID’s all with the how to for picture application. After picking
up his new ID he bought a used Harley Super Glide and went to the
state office for registration and paid the fee happily. Tucked
inside his new leathers a bona fide address on the registration and
driver’s license showed him as one Terry Adams of Everett
Washington.
The weather was cooperating
for late May and he felt that it would continue until his mission
was completed. He’d called and made a reservation some time ago to
the San Juan Motel on 6
th
St. All was in place
as he motored up I-5 feeling as giddy as a kid skipping school. His
disguise was an older guy about late fifties with medium gray black
hair a mustache of salt and pepper with dark brown eyes and heavy
black rimmed glasses. Striking white teeth behind a big smile made
him look friendly and kind. He’s read up on bikes and flowers; in
addition to the area.
He was riding now in the
far right hand lane at truck speed, with a license endorsed for
motorcycle riding, he turned grim thinking he had to do his best to
outsmart the famous Brad Pratt and his team. If he pulled this off
under their noses again like last time in Aberdeen, he would sit
back and savor the kill and write a few more letters.
Brad was walking along the
waterfront next to the marina going over every detail of his plan.
Agent Jones was with him and when they found a place to sit and
watch the boats, agent Jones said, “I think we need to check all
the motels for reservations and knock on each door to check ID’s.
What do you think Brad?”
“I was thinking that myself
and would you call Nancy and have her take care of that project?
Also, make sure the owners and desk people check their driver’s
license or passport with each guest and how long they intend to
stay.”
That night on the eve of
the 22
nd
the team met for
dinner in Sedro Woolley. Brad didn’t want to take a chance on being
seen. Now they were in a small conference room with an agent
outside to make sure no one was eavesdropping going over every
detail of the next day’s action. Nancy spent a full thirty minute
about how she had dispersed her agents. She told them that the
ferries were manned; motels, RV parks and campgrounds along with
bed and breakfast places had been contacted. The harbor was
patrolled by the Coast Guard; the helicopter was fueled and
waiting; the roads would be blocked at all points out of town and
side roads by eight am; the bike riders would be in place by
daylight tomorrow morning. In addition agents by the dozen were
walking around and to a person all had a communication device to
link up with Billy’s new found pride and joy the eighteen wheeler
van full of toys for his pleasure. After she gave her report Brad
asked Mike what or if he had anything to report by his end with the
house and meeting anyone during his time playing a senior role.
He’d didn't talk to him since he left Bandon and Mike reported
meeting many new friends, but nobody asked to come to his
house.
He said, “Guess we lost
this one and now I’m at a loss as what to do”
“Keep it up until the last
minute or until something kicks loose,” Brad said. “Now can anybody
think of anything at all we might have overlooked or any
suggestions to add to our plan?”
“My gut feeling is he will
strike tomorrow night after he tours the festival and lures someone
to their home or to his place of lodging,” Wendy added to the last
of the meeting as everyone started to get up and leave.
“Ok, Wendy, you think he is
staying in a motel or RV park?”
“Yes, I do. I think he will
entice a senior to his place and god knows where he will go after
that.”
Brad thought for a few
minutes and said, “Nancy double check the hotel guests and check
again their ID’s. Don’t intimidate the guests, but if the agent
doesn’t feel right about anyone, have he or she reports immediately
to a superior.” Nancy made a note and nodded to Brad.
“Anything else people?” He
asked. He waited and said the meeting was over and told them,
“Let’s go to our respective places and hope tomorrow we have John
in custody.”
Chapter 13
A knock on John’s door at
nine pm on the eve of the 22
nd
of May at the San Juan Motel produced a young FBI agent
apologizing for the intrusion, but she needed a word with him
please. John with a big smile invited her in and asked what she
wanted. She told him the FBI was checking Id’s as they felt the
serial killer might be in the area. John said, “Glad to help.
Someone needs to stop the crazy bastard, excuse my language…” as he
dug out his driver’s license and new registration for his bike.
Agent Jenny Agate later described him as totally believable and his
license and registration was both in good order.
Brad tossed and turned and
wished he had one of his dogs with him. He’d called home and all
were fine there and Sujin told him she wanted to come to Anacortes
to be with him. He’d said he was in no condition for company and to
please forgive him. He promised to call as soon as something
happened and hung up.
The same could be said about
the rest of the team. Sleep was not in the cards and everyone was
strung as tight as a tennis racket. Billy was still pounding the
keys working with his friends around the country. He’s agreed with
Wendy that the dude was probably holed up in a motel and would seek
out a victim, lure that person to his motel room and off the old
person. Then he would silently leave town. But how would he leave
town? That is what Billy was working on with his friends. They
mailed back and forth and all agreed with the roads blocked he
would escape, if not caught, by ferry. Billy then checked the
Washington State Ferry schedule for departures after say five pm.
He discovered a ferry on an overnight ride to Sidney/Victoria
BC.
He called agent Jones who
picked up the phone on the first ring. Billy told him about his
theory and Jones said, “Let’s you and I be there at the ferry
terminal an hour before it is scheduled to leave. I’ll get a
passenger list tomorrow and you get a list of the motel, RV and
campground sites. Oh, and don’t forget the bed and breakfast
places. I’ll inform Wendy and you tell Brad what we are doing and
see if he agrees to our plan.”
After hanging up, Billy
looked at his screen and saw the time was one am. He knew Brad was
probably not sleeping and rang his room. Like agent Jones he picked
up on the first ring and listened to what Billy had to say. He
thought it a good idea and told him to stay in touch when in
position. Also he would tell Nancy what the plan was to alert the
other agents already in position. He hung up without another word
and Billy could feel the stress flowing through the line. Billy
lighted his forty something cigarette of the day and sat back
blowing smoke rings in deep thought about what this dude’s disguise
was for tomorrow’s gig.
Terry Adams woke as the
daylight fought its way through the motel drapes. He stretched his
arms and thought to himself what a good night sleep he had. He
bounced out of bed and made for the shower. After a hot shower he
dressed in his blue jeans, slip on penny loafers and a checkered
long sleeve shirt with two pockets. He made sure his makeup and all
that made him Terry Adams was in order before he left for
breakfast. He motored downtown and parked the bike outside the
local Denny’s restaurant. He parked the Harley next to the door as
that is what would attract his victim, he hoped. He would hang
around all day until his mark came by to talk bikes and then he
would tell him that he had some pictures back in his room showing
some old bikes that he restored. Of course the word was out about
the serial killer and he would show the guy his license and all
about where he lived not far from the 747 Boeing plant in Everett.
If that didn’t work he would pull his little 22 hand gun and walk
the guy behind the restaurant and do him there. As it turned out
the unsuspecting old time Harley rider played his game.