Relentless (Elisabeth Reinhardt Book 1) (30 page)

Teddy Ruff ran his hands through his red hair as he paced back and forth in the garden apartment he shared with his latest girlfriend Monica French. He was worried about the recent developments, more than worried, really. That call from Jake, two days before, all whispery and urgent, left him feeling uneasy. He remembered Jake’s voice saying “Hey Ruff n Ready, old Buddy”… just remembering it made his skin crawl. Jake wanted Teddy to do an internet search for him, to find some chick named Reggie Lee Raines and to dig up exactly what the cops knew about the Parkland Killers. He didn’t say
he
was the Parkland Killer. That was left unsaid. Under most circumstances, Teddy would be happy to oblige, but this kind of research was dangerous. If he started hacking into law enforcement databases about killers everyone was looking for, it would bring the cops, the FBI, the CIA, Homeland Security, hell, the whole world down on him. There was no way to cover your tracks on a hack like that. Jake, who was computer illiterate, had no clue what he was asking Teddy to do. The sacrifice! The risk! Hell, the government had programs that could trace search patterns. They would flip his search pattern and track him. As soon as they recognized that Teddy was getting information about Jake, they would be pounding on his door and life as he knew it would be over.

Teddy, now 36, had been careful since his last time in the big house. He had stayed out of trouble, while at the same time earning a terrific amount of money as a computer expert - a ‘hacker’ really. He hacked into banks and other financial institutions, not only for himself, but for a fee
, a big one he’d help out the occasional ‘associate’. Living in plain sight in Western Pennsylvania, he had done all the ordinary things that people do, shop, eat out, date pretty girls, go to the occasional movie. He had created a ‘normal’ life for himself, even if it was a façade. He told everyone he was a stock broker who worked from home. Teddy thought that sounded good and close enough to the truth. He tried to tell the truth when he could, it was easier that way, not so many lies to remember. Teddy had come from a pretty religious family, strict Lutherans. His father’s moral code had been beaten into him from an early age. He still felt the impact of that ‘moral code’ across his back when the weather turned cold. So he tried to live a ‘righteous’ life. He didn’t hurt people, at least not physically; he was kind to his mother, who was living out her elder years in an assisted living facility near Altoona, on his dime. He ‘loaned’ his sister money to buy a small house outside of Pittsburgh. And he was a generous tipper in restaurants. Teddy thought he was managing pretty well all things considered. His money was hidden in the Cayman Islands. His long term plan was to move down there once he had accumulated enough cash to stop hacking.  Then he would live the life his father would have liked. 

For the last four years, Teddy lived in a two bedroom apartment on the third floor of a nice middle class apartment complex with large trees, gardens, a community center and a large pool. He could look out his picture window and see people pushing
strollers or walking their dogs. It was a nice area and he was glad to be living there.  His apartment, quite attractive was decorated like an Ikea catalogue. An oversize walnut entertainment center, the focal point of the living room, held a 55” flat screen TV and sat opposite a cushioned cream colored L shaped sofa. Artwork and knickknacks were tastefully arranged throughout the bright, modern spacious room. His second bedroom, however, was the opposite; it was small and cramped. Black fabric shades covered windows. The unadorned walls were stark white.  Long folding tables lined three walls, holding computers, monitors, keyboards, printers, scanners, fax machines and stacks of paper. A dozen phone lines had been wired into the room, illegally because the area was not commercially zoned. Surge suppressors, bundled cords and wires coiled all over the floor connecting everything electronic. It was a hacker’s lair. The room was alive with flashing screens scrolling through lists of numbers and codes; there was constant humming and clicking from the printers and fax machines and several answering machines, which featured Teddy’s melodious outgoing messages in several languages. This is where Teddy Ruff spent most of his time.

His most recent girlfriend Monica seemed to be ‘the one.’ They had been dating for only 4 months, but
he felt sure he loved her.  She was 28 years old and had gotten her Bachelor’s degree from Carnegie Institute of Art in Pittsburgh.  She spent a number of years working and painting near the college until she met Teddy, in a little Blues bar near campus. It was not long before she moved into his apartment in Ligonier. Monica grew up in a small town near Lake Erie.  She was the only child born to rather ‘new age’ parents who were into ‘the green life’ and spent all their time growing vegetables in their organic gardens and providing nearby markets with their produce. They had been good parents and loved their daughter, but were firm believers in ‘leaving the nest’ so when Monica said she was moving in with Teddy Ruff and would get a job in Ligonier, they were fine with that. They met and liked him well enough and well, she was 28 now, so really she was free to make her own decisions. They were busy with their organic farming business and put no demands on her. That was another good thing as far as Teddy was concerned. He didn’t need any meddling ‘in-laws’ hanging around interfering in his world. Monica was the day manager of an upscale dress shop in town. She spent her free time at the studio that she shared with other local artists. There, she worked on her water colors and collages some of which she sold at local art shows or galleries. From Teddy’s point of view, she was great in all the important ways. She was sweet, genuinely interested in him and she never asked too many questions about his work in the strange little room she was not allowed to enter.

As he paced he thought
, ‘I have to make a decision. He could show up here any minute. I tracked the chick down to the time she was about 21 and then lost her. Maybe she had changed her name to something else. I haven’t found the trace on that yet. These things took time. I got as far as hacking into the Putnam County database and then thought ‘what am I risking all this for? The days of ‘the teacher’ and ‘the hacker’ were long gone. Hell, what do I owe that guy, anyway? Meeting for a beer and a burger to chat about old times was one thing, but this thing Jake wants me to do, well that’s another thing altogether. I just won’t do it,’ Teddy thought.

Then he remembered that Jake knew where he lived. Jake had been here once, about 2 years ago and Jake never forgot stuff like this. Even if he didn’t remember, he’d get someone from around here to tell him where Teddy lived. Jake could get anyone to tell him anything. Teddy didn’t know what to do and he didn’t know how much time he had until Jake and his buddies, or the cops, in capital letters, broke down his door and shot him to death. He poured himself a shot of bourbon and paced some more.
As the clock ticked he became increasingly anxious. ‘One thing, I’ve got to do is get Monica out of here,’ he thought, ‘I don’t want her getting shot even if I get killed. How can I get her out?’ Now that was another problem. She was a naïve, yes, but she wasn’t going to be easy. She would want answers, she wasn’t just going to pick up and run away with no explanation. He was panicked; he had to get her out of there before Jake arrived. One look at her and there would be real trouble. She was ‘Jake’s type’ and that put them both at risk. Monica was at work now, but she’d be home soon. Maybe they could run away together until this shit with Jake blew over. The cops were bound to catch him sometime. Yes, that was the thing. He’d pack and pick Monica up at work and they’d hit the road. That meant shutting down his whole operation, getting as much equipment in the truck as he could along with  all his ‘paperwork’ and evidence of his crimes. It was a lot to do in a short time, but what choice did he have? Getting out of town was the thing to do. He stopped pacing and started packing.

The wind howled loudly as it whipped around the corners of stone and brick buildings piling inch after inch of snow on already impassable streets. It was one of the worst snow storms to hit Chicago for a decade. Gina had called the hospital earlier to say she was unable to get in and would have to wait for a break in the weather. She assured the nursing staff now forced to work double shifts that she would be available to them by phone and would help them manage in any way she could.  In anticipation of the snow storm, several doctors and residents had volunteered to sleep over night at the hospital. They were covering critical situations, but many staff members had been unable to make it to work. All units were short-staffed and those present were over-worked and exhausted.

Gina was up, dressed and ready to go, but
minutes ago the mayor declared a state of emergency and ordered residents to stay off the streets. City and state offices were closed, schools were closed, in fact, the whole city was closed. Road crews were working over-time to get streets cleared, but the storm was far from over. Gina fed Twinkie, fixed herself some coffee and toast and settled in, land line to her ear, ready to confer with hospital staff about her patients. She had lost her cell phone the night before after she and Goeff were whisked from the restaurant. She thought it might be in the escort’s car but didn’t have his number and with the snow he had not come to pick her up. Putting those thoughts aside she waited for updates from nursing staff about Lashana Browne, a newborn with
spina bifida
(a birth defect involving incomplete closure of the spine)who was scheduled for surgery later that week and Ronald Nestler, a ‘premie’ who had been diagnosed with
PDA, a 
congenital disorder
 
in the 
heart
 
wherein one of the heart ducts fails to close after 
birth
. Gina wanted to make sure there were no signs of infection.

And then there was Jane. Getting a nursing report on her condition, she was surprised to find out that Goeff Reed had made it into the hospital and was taking care of baby Judy. She asked to be transferred and within minutes he was on the line.

“
Taking a snow day?” he quipped.

“
Seems like you’re having all the fun today,” she retorted.

“Want me to take care of Jane for you today?” he asked.

“I’d love it if you wouldn’t mind,” she answered, “how do the twins look today? Has Judy’s color improved?”

The team had been concerned about her blood pressure dropping and how pale the baby looked last evening. ”She looks better today. If she continues to be stable, we can get them back into surgery maybe day after tomorrow.”

“That sounds great,” Gina responded, “Thanks again Goeff for taking care of Jane for me.”

“Not a problem,” Goeff said, “it’s not like I have to
travel far to do it, she’s right here, same place as Judy!” he finished smartly.

Gina was
she was clicking away on her laptop entering case notes when she the phone rang. “Turn on your TV quick…” Tanya’s voice was urgent commanding. Gripping the remote she heard “….and in Hurricane, West Virginia the Parkland Killers have eluded yet another police dragnet….” She stared mutely at the TV as the faces of her three childhood tormenters flashed across the screen. “Wanted by police for questioning in relation to more than 5 kidnapping and rapes and 8 murders are Jake Gennett, Arnold Custer and Vincent Anastan, all local residents of the Hurricane area.”

“I’ll call you back, Tan,” she said replacing the receiver. The News Report continued, “
Earlier today, there was a shooting at a local farm followed by the kidnapping of a local priest at gunpoint. The men forced him to drive them to the outskirts of town where hostages were taken and a Pennsylvania State Police Officer and a Police Dog were killed.” The camera now angled in on two young men wearing identical shirts labeled ‘Chip’s Farm Supplies’ “Yes, Sir,” one of the young men was saying, “and he stole one of our tractors and headed across that field over there.” The young man pointed to the side and the camera panned the area.

“We got the tractor back, though. They drove it to the end of the field down the road a piece and left it there. Had some bullet holes in it, but still runs good. The police department took it away to check it out.”

“And I understand he locked you and the other clerk up in a closet,” prompted the reporter. “Yes, Sir,” said the boy eagerly, “we was real scared, too. That killer guy with the scar on his face, he was really scary, crazy-like pushing and swearing. Father Wallington from the Catholic Church near here, now he was real helpful, we all prayed and that kept us calm while all the shoot’n was going on.”

“You heard gunshots?” the reporter prompted.

“Oh my, yes,” the boy said, “there were so many shots we couldn’t count ‘em all.  I was scared that crazy one was going to come back and shoot us, too. But they was long gone in that tractor.”

“You saw more than one of them?” the reported asked. “Yes Sir,” the boy answered proudly, “we seen three of them guys and plus Father Wallington, who we already know’d from church, he seen them all, too.”

“Well, thank you so much for talking to us,” the reporter said as the boy was moved away from the cameras by a police officer. “And that was Ben Kochis, a really brave young man from Hurricane, West Virginia giving us his version of events that occurred thirty minutes ago. This is Rob Jefferson reporting on the continuing hunt for the Parkland Killers who struck yesterday at a nearby farm killing one person and injuring two others.”

Gina sat and stared at the TV
, immobilized. Rallying, she flipped to another news station to see what else she could learn. There were more shots of ‘Chip’s Farm Supplies,’ shots of police and FBI agents walking around and talking to witnesses. There were shots of Police and FBI vehicles, ambulances and paramedics picking up what looked like wounded bodies, shots of snow covered corn fields, more mug shots of the Parkland Killers, more pictures of their presumed victims, along with their names and information about their deaths. She began clicking on her keyboard, breaking with her usual custom of never using her own computer to access this account, she logged onto her secret email account, finding dozens of urgent messages from Mrs. Goodwin. Hands shaking, she checked Google for news stories. The first item nearly knocked her over… ‘Shooting at the Raines family farm,’ was the headline… Alcott Earl Raines, 68, dead of a gunshot wound, Hattie Raines 66 was injured in an apparent struggle and has been admitted to the ICU at ….….’ Reaching for her land line she dialed the only number she could think of.

“
McCray,” the familiar voice answered. “Oh my G-d,” she began and started to cry. “Gina? Gina?” Gil asked urgently, “Are you Okay?”

“My
Papa’s been killed, my Mama’s in the hospital, it’s him! I knew it was him! He’s after me and he hurt my parents. What should I do? He killed my Papa!”

She was openly sobbing
, “What should I do? What should I do? He’s coming! I knew he was coming! He’s going to kill me and Twinkie.” She was nearing hysteria now. “He killed my Papa, maybe even my Mama. He’ll kill Mrs. Goodwin and Mrs. Eades! They were trying to reach me. I didn’t get their messages. I need to warn them. They could be in danger. We have to help them!”

The deep voice repeated, “Calm down for a minute, Gina,
I’ll be there soon. Your friends are safe. We got them out. Calm down. They’re safe,” he reassured her.

“You
did what? How did you know about them?”

“It’s
my job to know things,” he reassured her, “Calm down I’m going to take care of you.”

Near hysteria she sobbed
“You can’t help me you’re across town! There’s a snow storm? You’ll never make it,” she wailed.

“Open the door,” said the voice on the phone.

Startled, Gina rushed to look through the peep hole … Gil gave a little wave. Wearing jeans and a sweatshirt he smiled broadly.

“Where were you?” she asked as she opened the door for him.

“Down on the 2
nd
floor,” he responded “in my apartment.” She moved into his arms.

“It’s going to be Okay, Sweetie,” he
folded her in an embrace. “Don’t you worry we’re going to get them.”