Kill and Run (A Thorny Rose Mystery Book 1) (24 page)

Read Kill and Run (A Thorny Rose Mystery Book 1) Online

Authors: Lauren Carr

Tags: #military, #cozy, #police procedural, #murder, #mystery, #crime

“In General Sebastian Graham’s case,” Murphy said, “close to three dozen.”

Stunned, Boris and Susan stared up at the extensive list.

“Francine Baxter had put together a hit list,” Murphy said, “of everyone who has ever gotten in the way of Sebastian’s military career who suddenly died—eliminating the road block. Less than five years after his return from Kuwait, he was up for the position of commandant of the Army War College. The position was given to Major General Wilbur Frost who outranked him. Within weeks, less than a month after assuming the position, Frost went home for lunch and blew his brains out with his own service weapon. To this day, everyone swears he displayed no suicidal tendencies. After this very convenient suicide, Sebastian Graham got the position.”

“Argument could be made by Graham’s attorneys that this is just a coincidence,” Joshua said.

“I’ve heard you explain to juries that circumstantial evidence is just as important as direct evidence,” Murphy said. “Circumstances prove the reasoning behind the suspect’s actions and behavior. Sebastian Graham is a sociopath who believes that he can have any woman he wants, even if she says no. So he takes her. Then, when she threatens the continuance of his behavior or the advancement of his military career, he threatens her or buys her off or, if those tactics don’t work, he uses murder to clean up his mess.”

Standing up, he went to the smart board to point to the image of a young woman with dark hair. “Sixteen years ago, Hannah Price filed a police report saying that she had been raped. She had attended a cocktail reception on the top floor of the Executive Office Building. She woke up in a hotel room with no memory of how she ended up there. Blood tests revealed that she had been slipped a roofie. General Sebastian Graham was in attendance at that very party. Days later, his executive officer, First Lieutenant Julie Wagner requested a transfer from her position even though it was actually considered to be quite a prestigious assignment. She wouldn’t tell her personnel officer why. Two days after making that request, she died after falling off her bicycle and hitting her head. The medical examiner said she had
two
blows to the head.” He added, “She was at that party in the Executive Office Building. The last call she made before her accident was to Hannah Price.”

“Not long after that, Hannah Price and her husband set up an engineering company and have been getting lucrative military contracts ever since,” Susan said.

Murphy pointed to another picture on the list of another army officer. “Less than two years after Graham came back from Kuwait a hero, his CO was killed in a car accident. It was ruled a homicide because police found his brake lines cut. Colleagues told CID that the CO and Graham did not get along and he was recommending against promotion. The CO’s replacement was a longtime mentor of Graham who did recommend him for promotion.”

“But no charges were brought against Graham,” Joshua said.

“Because there—”

“Was no evidence to prove he was behind it,” Joshua finished.

“How about a second lieutenant who charged him with sexual harassment sixteen years ago?” Murphy said. “She ended up going AWOL. All credit card activity stopped. Her family and friends have never heard from her. Her body was never found and the military police presume she’s dead.”

“The sheer volume in this list proves that General Graham is a psychopath,” Boris said, “or at the very least has a psychopathic guardian angel.”

“My vote is on
him
being the psychopath,” Murphy said while scrolling down the list on the computer. “Dad—I mean Captain, how many personal assistants have you had?”

“You know the answer to that,” Joshua said. “None, unless you want to count biological offspring.”

Murphy stopped scrolling at a screen that showed four pictures of young beautiful women. A listing was next to each one. “Graham has had four personal assistants in a little over a dozen years. Dolly Scanlon is the fifth.” He stepped up to the board and pointed at the photograph of a pretty blonde at the top of the screen. “His first assistant was with him for twenty-six months—until she went missing. Her body was found over a year later in a heavily wooded area of a park.”

He pointed at the second picture of an attractive brunette. “Assistant number two worked for Graham for three and a half years. She committed suicide by jumping out the window of her fifth floor condo.”

Eying his father, Murphy pointed to a third picture of a young woman with big eyes. “Number three worked for Graham for three years. She drowned in her hot tub.” He pressed his fingertips on the fourth picture of a woman with long dark hair. “Assistant number four quit via overdose of booze mixed with sleeping pills. She lasted two years.”

“The office morale must be toxic when you work for General Sebastian Graham,” Boris said.

“Why hasn’t he ever been investigated?” Susan asked. “Why did the President nominate him for the army’s chief of staff?”

The team turned to Joshua Thornton. At the head of the table, he pressed his fingertips together while studying the hit list Murphy had displayed on the smart board.

“Because … ” After a long pause, Joshua turned to the staff’s deputy chief. “Boris, what was the first thing you learned when you started out in the military?”

“Two things,” Boris answered. “Watch your back and cover your butt.”

“How about ‘don’t upset the apple cart?’” Joshua asked with a sigh. “I can see exactly how this happened. I’ve seen it before in the military, government, politics, and even in the private sector. If anything, in the last twenty years, the problem has only gotten worse.”

Joshua gestured up at the smart board on which was displayed an extensive list of General Sebastian Graham’s victims. “In the beginning, West Point didn’t want their reputation tarnished by having one of their cadets convicted of being a rapist. I have no doubt Graham’s father, a four-star general, played a big part in convincing them that it would be in their interest to bury the whole thing. Sebastian Graham was third generation West Point. With no thought to what the future held for the military—they caved into pressure from Graham’s father.”

With a shake of his head, Boris said, “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen that happen.”

Joshua said, “So West Point and Graham’s powerful family convinced, or maybe a better word is bullied, the local prosecutor to reduce the charges and the Grahams paid off the victims for their silence.”

“And those first rape charges turn into misdemeanors,” Susan said. “Because of Graham’s war record and charisma, he gets away with explaining the initial charges as a simple misunderstanding.” Disgusted, her eyes narrowed to slits. She shook her head.

“Sebastian Graham graduates and becomes the army’s problem,” Joshua said. “In Kuwait, he rapes a female colleague. The army probably would have acted on her charges, but fate intervened. Suddenly, Sebastian Graham was a hero and the media made him a celebrity. The Gulf War was one of the first military engagements in which women were sent into hot zones. If the rape had been made public, with a military hero being the perpetrator—”

“It would have negatively affected the feminist cause for equal opportunity in the military,” Susan said.

“Undoubtedly,” Murphy said, “since Graham was then getting headlines as a hero, the rape charge would have received a lot of negative publicity, which would have threatened women’s chances of going into combat.”

“The victim was probably told that dropping the charges and keeping quiet about what had to have been an isolated incident was for the greater good,” Joshua said.

“With no thought to Graham’s future victims,” Boris said.

“And since his earlier sexual assaults were buried,” Murphy said, “then Graham’s victim in Kuwait had no idea about the role she played in allowing this predator to continue using the United States Army for a hunting ground.”

“It’s a safe bet that in every step of the line,” Joshua explained, “the person who had the opportunity and power to stop him hoped that the next man or woman whose problem Graham would become could put a stop to him.”

Getting out of his chair, Joshua went up to the list on the smart board. “Unfortunately, every step of the way, Graham’s previous attacks and incidents would be buried, which concealed his pattern to his current COs and any investigators who would be brought in.”

Joshua shook his head. “The police investigating Specialist Cecelia Crenshaw’s rape charge against Graham were unaware of the rapes at West Point, in Kuwait, or the sexual harassment charge. So, I can clearly see why, after she cried rape, they dismissed it. At that point, Graham was in his thirties and as far as what they saw on the surface, he had a sparkling clear record and friends in all the right places.”

“They dismissed Specialist Crenshaw as a troublemaking fruit loop,” Susan said.

“Only Francine Baxter believed her and decided to dig beneath the cover-ups to reveal General Sebastian Graham’s pattern of behavior,” Joshua said.

“Those cover-ups by people too cowardly to go up against a war hero with powerful friends proved to be tragic for a lot of people,” Murphy said. “Based on the list Baxter put together, every time someone has tried to stop Graham, they’ve ended up dead.”

“No doubt, this has gone way too far,” Joshua said while studying the list displayed on the smart board. “At first, it was to protect the army’s reputation. Then, as Graham advanced in his career, with all the power he accumulated, looking the other way became of matter of self-preservation.” He glanced around the room. “Who here in this room besides me has the balls to go up against a four-star general and accuse him of being a serial rapist and killer?”

“I do,” Murphy said without hesitation.

“I know you do,” Joshua said. “Who else?” He looked directly at Susan. “Are you naive enough to believe you’ll have a career next week?”

“Based on that hit list,” Boris said, “I’d be more concerned about making sure my life insurance is paid up. It’s not just your career you have to worry about.”

“So we just let him get away with this?” Murphy asked. “We’re simply going to turn our backs and pretend this isn’t happening like every other wuss who did nothing?”

“Son, I agree with you,” Joshua said with a sigh, “but we need to be smart about how we proceed.” Seeing the fire in Murphy’s eyes, he cleared his throat.
“Lieutenant,
I agree with you, but we can’t go up against a general who is on the very short list for Chief of Staff of the Army with nothing more than what could be construed as a hit list made up by some women scorned, which is what the general’s attorneys are going to argue.”

“He’s going before the Senate tomorrow,” Murphy said. “We need to get the President to withdraw his nomination.”

“Like that’s going to happen.” Joshua was still studying the list on the smart board when his cell phone rang. His gaze focused on the extensive list, he brought the phone to his ear. “Captain Joshua Thornton here.”

“Joshua Thornton,” the voice said in an official tone. “Are you married to Detective Cameron Gates with the Pennsylvania State Police?”

His heart going up into his throat, Joshua turned away from the hit list. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry to say, sir, that there has been an accident.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

It pays to have friends in high places. One phone call to their CO got Joshua and Murphy a navy helicopter on the Pentagon’s helipad to fly them out to the Capital Beltway. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to get within five miles of the accident.

The beltway was shut down in both directions due to the Pennsylvania State police cruiser hanging by its rear wheels and axel from the overpass, as well as the two lane road over which it was dangling. Within minutes of the assault on Cameron’s cruiser, Washington metropolitan traffic had come to a grinding halt. With the major freeway, used by the majority of commuters to get from one part of the Nation’s Capital to another, shut down, vehicles were scrambling to find alternate routes, most of which were smaller, two-lane roads—creating gridlock.

A fleet of emergency vehicles, including ambulances and fire trucks, were parked both on the overpass and the road down below. In the helicopter high above, Joshua and Murphy observed a path of wrecked vehicles, broken glass and auto parts, and emergency vehicles leading up to the trapped cruiser.

“What happened?” Unable to believe that his wife was in the midst of the chaos, Murphy lowered his sunglasses for a closer take on the scene.

“Looks like a bad day on the beltway,” the pilot said. “Glad I’m flying.”

Murphy felt the blood drain from his face and extremities with the realization that Jessica was in the vehicle hanging precariously from the overpass. “Jessie …”

The touch of Joshua’s hand squeezing his arm drew his attention from the wreck. Joshua removed his sunglasses so that he could read the message in his eyes.
They’re going to be okay.

The helicopter had to land on the beltway heading north toward Baltimore. After disembarking, Murphy hurdled the road divider and ducked under the crime scene tape to get pushed back by two Maryland state troopers.

“My wife is in that car!” Murphy tried to force his way through the human barricade until he spotted a firetruck spraying chemicals on gasoline leaking from underneath the cruiser.

The sight made him ill.

“The gas tank is leaking! You have to get them out of there!” Once again, he tried to break through the line of troopers trying to hold him back. “She’s my wife! You have to let me save her!” He threw back his fist ready to punch anyone who got in his way.

“Murphy! Stand down!”

The roar of Joshua’s voice blasted through Murphy’s fright to make him drop his fist.

Joshua wedged himself between the navy officer and the troopers. In spite of the calm in Joshua’s tone, Murphy could hear the familiar edge that dared him to cross the line. “This is no time to play Captain America. These are the good guys. They will do everything they can. Lord knows it’s not easy but this time, we need to stand down and let them do their jobs.”

Joshua turned around to tell the troopers. “Is there someone we can speak to regarding what happened?”

“FBI just got here,” one of the troopers pointed to a blue SUV parked inside the crime scene tape on the side of the beltway where the helicopter had landed.

Tearing his eyes from the sight of the cruiser where Jessica was trapped, Murphy spotted a slender, dark haired young woman, who didn’t appear to be much older than he was, speaking to the senior ranking state trooper. He also saw her FBI gold shield clipped to her utility belt next to her service weapon.

Grabbing Murphy by the elbow, Joshua led him toward the road divider.

Casting one more look at the cruiser, Murphy saw that two rescuers were attaching a cable and hook to the rear axle in order to pull it back off the embankment. “They have to get them out.” He tried to remember a time when he felt so helpless. He came up with none.

“They’re going to be okay,” Joshua said. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but this is one time when you and I are not calling the shots. Cameron and Jessica are in good hands.”

“Izzy’s in there, too,” Murphy said. “I promised that I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.”

“Cameron and Jessica will take care of her,” Joshua said. “In the meantime, we need to find out how this happened.” Releasing his grip on Murphy’s elbow, Joshua crossed over the center divide between the southbound and northbound lanes.

Wanting to be as close to Jessica as possible, Murphy remained on the fringes of the rescuers, watching them work diligently to save the vehicle’s passengers. It took all of his restraint to not jump in to hurry them along.

Finally, the urge to do something useful won out. If he could not work hands on to save Jessica, Cameron, and Izzy, he could very well find out who was behind this accident. With a new sense of resolve, Murphy climbed over the divider and followed Joshua over to where the FBI agent was being briefed by the trooper in charge.

“Excuse me,” was all Joshua got out before the agent turned to face him.

“Captain Thornton.” She offered him her hand. “Special Agent Ripley Vaccaro.” Seeing Murphy, she took his hand in a firm shake. “Lieutenant Murphy Thornton. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“From—”

“We have mutual acquaintances,” she cut Murphy off before turning back to Joshua. “I was going to call you but then I was interrupted by this.” She shot them a naughty smile partnered with an arched eyebrow. “Since I
happened
to be in the neighborhood, my supervisors gave me this case.”

Joshua glanced in Murphy’s direction. The curl in the corner of his father’s lips told him that Agent Ripley Vaccaro had just given them a coded message. Unfortunately, Murphy was more focused on wanting to hold Jessica in his arms again than deciphering coded messages.

Up close, Murphy saw that the federal agent was actually older than he was—possibly by as much as a decade. It was her slender, athletic build and long dark hair, which was misleading.

“Can you tell us what happened, Agent Vaccaro?” Joshua asked her.

“Witnesses said Detective Gates’ cruiser was shot at with a machine gun by someone in a dark van,” Ripley said. “All we know is that it was a dark color, nothing more specific. They pulled up alongside the cruiser, opened their side door, and opened fire.”

“Was anyone hurt or killed?” Joshua asked.

“A couple of people had to be taken away by ambulance,” she reported, “but they aren’t life threatening injuries.”

The sound of the crane tore Murphy’s attention from the conversation. “Dad, they’re pulling them up!” Without waiting for Joshua to join him, he raced over to where the cruiser was being dragged up from over the ledge while the fire department hosed down the spilt gasoline.

“Five women killed at a Cozy Cook party,” Ripley counted off. “A potential witness gunned down at Starbucks in a major shopping center last night. And now the wives of two Phantoms attacked on the Beltway at the start of rush hour. Sounds like we’re going up against some mighty badass dudes who really don’t care who gets between them and their target.”

“The assassins taken out last night had ties to the Russian mob,” Joshua said. “Where does the mob figure into all this besides them being the muscle?”

“Our friend told me the direction you’re going on your end,” she said, “I’ll start digging through FBI records to see if I can find anything on my end.”

“They may be badass,” Joshua said while watching Murphy elbow his way through the rescuers to get to Jessica, “but they just made a very bad mistake.”

“What’s that?”

“They’ve made it personal.”

Murphy waded through the rescuers to reach the passenger side of the cruiser. Peering through the men between him and the car, he could see Jessica pushing against the crushed door from the inside to free herself, while the workers on the outside were prying it open on their side.

She’s alive!

For the first time since he had landed on the freeway, Murphy felt as if he could breathe.

The door opened with a loud creak of dented metal against metal. Jessica scurried out like she was afraid the cruiser would go back over the edge with her in it.

A rescuer was reaching for her hand when Murphy pushed him aside to take her into his arms.

Never had she felt so good. She belonged there.

“Oh, Murphy,” she gasped into his chest, “you’re here! I was afraid—” She clung to him with both arms.

“Sshhh.” Murphy kissed her on the forehead before wrapping his arms around her and holding her as tightly as he could. “I just want to hold you.”

Joshua made it to the driver’s side of the cruiser in time for the rescuers to pry open the door and Cameron to climb out. Taking her into his arms, he could feel her body trembling. “You had me worried,” he whispered into her hair.

“You think I wasn’t?” She tightened her grip around him. “Hold me,” she said into his neck while an EMT draped a blanket over her to prevent shock.

“I may never let you go.” He tightened his grip only to have her push him away when they heard sobbing from the back seat of the car.

“Izzy. I need to be there. I promised—” She turned around in time to gather the girl crawling out of the crumbled cruiser into her arms and hold her tight while she sobbed into Cameron’s shoulder. Jessica and Murphy ran around from the other side of the car to take the girl into a group hug which included emergency workers trying to examine the victims for injuries. With the group huddled around the girl, Joshua couldn’t get a clear look at her, other than to see that her hair was a mass of tight ash-blonde curls.

“I-I was so sc-scared,” the girl wept while holding on tightly to Cameron. “Why. . .what. . .they were trying to kill—” Shoving Cameron away with both hands, she dropped down onto her knees and threw up—expelling half-digested banana split onto Joshua Thornton’s shiny white shoes.

“Oh, man,” Murphy groaned into Jessica’s ear. “This is not good. Not good at all.”

The participants of the group hug jumped back, while an EMT draped the blanket he had been trying to cover Izzy with down across her shoulders. “We need to take her to the hospital to check her out.” With a jerk of his chin at Jessica, who had returned to Murphy’s embrace, and Cameron, he said, “We need to take all three of you into the hospital.”

Cameron dropped down to the ground where Izzy was clutching her stomach. “We’ll go with you, honey. Josh and I aren’t going to leave you. We’ll stay with you to make sure nothing else happens to you.”

Izzy turned to look over at Cameron, who was hugging her shoulders. “Who’s Josh?”

“My husband.” Cameron helped her up to her feet. “He’s right here.”

Izzy raised her eyes up from the discharged ice cream treat covering the white shoes, up the stark white slacks to the uniform covered with ribbons and medals to the face of the man studying her behind dark sunglasses.

“This is my husband Joshua Thornton,” Cameron said. “Josh, this is Izzy.”

Dropping her eyes to his soiled shoes, Izzy said, “Sorry ‘bout barfing on your feet.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “They’re only shoes.” Grasping her shoulder in a loving grip, he smiled. “Let’s get you ladies checked out and then catch these bad guys.”

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