Title: Nevermore
Chapter: 12
Author: Evidence
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: We are nearing the end. Thanks to D, thank you for the kind reviews and Maple Street.
"Mom, please listen to me. This man needs our help!"
"Help? He reeks of alcohol. We need to call the police."
"Mom, please. I don't think he's a threat."
Thomas could hear the voices clearly but he could not open his eyes nor mouth to speak.
"I have to go pick your grandfather up at the airport. I'm not leaving you alone with his stranger!"
"I can take care of myself. If there is a problem I'll ask Mr. Spencer to come over okay?"
"I hope you know what you are doing. That man is trouble, I can tell."
"Don't worry mom really."
Her mother left a few minutes later and Shauna McClaine searched her bookshelves for a particular novel she had tucked away. Her mother and her had lived since her father died in the upstairs apartment above their store. She ran the bakery now and was making it a profitable business. She wanted to expand the business but wasn't sure she had enough capital to do so. The stranger interested her. There was something about him that made her want to search for her copy of the Maltese Falcon. He must be a Sam Spade fan, she thought.
Shauna walked over to him and brushed his messy brown hair with her hand. His eyes opened.
"Hey," she said smiling, her black hair falling forward and touching his cheek. "Are you feeling better?"
Thomas's mouth went dry. He couldn't formulate words to speak to someone who just made his heart skip a beat.
"Look I found the Maltese Falcon if you wanted me to read you some."
He merely nodded his head and fixed on her dark eyes. Her hardly heard the words as she read them and slowly he fell into a peaceful sleep.
Her saw her before she saw him. He smiled and she turned away. Perfect, just perfect he thought. The gun was still in his pocket. He walked swiftly down the street following her, her black boots clicking on the sidewalk. He weaved in and out of people: shoppers, old ladies, businessmen going home. There was a small residential park a few feet away; he just had to get her there. He quickened his pace and was an arm length from her when she turned.
"Who are you?" She asked a slight tremble in her voice.
"The executioner," he replied grabbing her and putting his lips to hers to subdue any screaming.
She pushed at him but he was stronger than she was. Podena swiftly brought her into the park; to the public outside it looked like two lovers who had a fight and then made up. He picked her up and bit down on her lip to keep her head from moving away. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest and her sweat was trickling down to his mouth. He found a good hiding place behind a bush and reached for the gun.
A shot would be heard, he reasoned, so he hit the gun to the back of her head. He let her go. She fell from his grasp like some doll. Podena knelt over her and applying pressure to her neck squeezed until he heard bone crack. He laughed gleefully, grabbed her cell phone strapped to her pocket book and headed back to the warehouse, a new skip in his step.
The Podena farm was largely barren. One barn sat on the property with a few cows in it. There were no plowed fields and the apple trees had dried up.
"Mr. Harry Podena?" Danny asked, exiting the car and noticing a gray haired man in a red plaid shirt and tan work slacks.
"Yes..."
"I'm Special Agent Taylor and this is Special Agent Fitzgerald. We have a few questions to ask you."
Danny had no sooner got done than Podena took off running to the barn.
"Fuck! Now we have to chase him." Danny shook his head with a laugh.
"Does he really think he can get away?" Martin asked, beginning to run.
"Mr. Podena!" Danny yelled as he was nearly caught up to the man.
Podena kept up his run heading straight into the barn.
"Gosh I hope I can run as quick as he does when I'm his age," Martin said.
"Maybe he's a former track star or something," Danny shrugged taking out his gun. "Mr. Podena, we are coming in."
Gunshots answered him.
"You'll never take me alive," Harry Podena yelled.
"Great, nuttiness must be a genetic thing," Danny whispered to Martin.
"I'll go around back and see if there is another way in," Martin responded.
"Great," Danny said turning his attention to Podena. "Mr. Podena, we just have a few questions, put the gun away."
"Not until you're both dead!"
"Mr. Podena you just threatened a federal officer that means you will serve at least three years in prison."
A shot zoomed by Danny's head. "Take that!"
"Mr. Podena, please I don't want to have to kill you; our department has already had enough OPR investigations."
"Freeze!" Danny heard Martin's voice and swung around the barn entrance. Martin had his gun pointed at Podena's back.
"Put it down Mr. Podena, we've got you covered," Danny said, inching closer.
Podena, swearing under his breath, dropped the gun. Martin handcuffed the man.
"There you go. Now this could have been easy but you had to make it hard. First question: are you Franklin Podena's uncle?" Danny asked.
The man said nothing.
"I'll take that as a yes. Second question: were are the bodies buried?"
Podena's head spun to look at Danny, going white in the process.
"Ah, you didn't realize we knew, huh? Well we are going to dig up this whole farm and undercover every last one." Danny paused growing serious, "Then the families of your nephew's victims will have a chance to lay their dead to rest."
Podena shrugged. "I'm not worried."
"You should be," Martin interjected.
"I'll call the local authorities," Danny said taking out his phone, "Hey, what's that smell?"
"Don't ask," was Martin's only response.
"Samantha, there is a phone call for you," Dave Ruggins, a tech, called on the intercom feature of her phone..
"Oh, not on my own line?" Samantha asked.
"Nope, on the main circuit line. Do you want to take it?"
"Sure," Sam said nodding her head.
"It's patched over to you...line 21," Dave said.
"Hello, Special Agent Spade here."
"Hello," the male voice on the other end said.
"Who is this?"
"Franklin Podena."
Sam turned in her chair and looked over at Jack, his eyes looked up from a document he was working on and glazed at her. She didn't need to speak any words, he knew who was on the other end. Quickly he grabbed Dave and informed him of the situation.
"Franklin, I think you have a relative of mine."
He laughed. "Oh yes, poor, drunk Thomas. He's dying to see you."
Sam bit at her lip. "I'm sure he is. Where are you two, I'll come down and see you."
"I thought you would never ask."
Sam felt a warm hand on her shoulder- Jack's. "I need the address."
"You'll have it in a few hours. I'll send it to you."
"How?" she asked.
"By carrier pigeon," he laughed. "No, I'll leave it on a victim."
"No, no, no." Sam said quickly and Jack's grip tightened. "Why don't you just tell me now."
"I like my way better. Until later Samantha. Bye." He hung up.
"Franklin? Franklin! Damn it I lost him," she turned to see Jack still touching her with a smile on his face.
"You did great."
"Not really he's going to kill someone else so that we will know where I can find him."
Jack sighed. "He's a monster, we don't have any control over him. We just have to do the best job we can do."
"Was that my best?"
"Yeah, I think it was." He smiled again and she felt so warm inside. It was torture to be so close to him yet so far away.
Dave came out then interrupting them. Jack removed his hand. "I got a trace on it- a cell phone belonging to a Melanie Peters. He was about 20 feet from here when he made it."
"Damn it!" Samantha said, feeling tears roll. "He's already killed again."
Jack wanted nothing more to hug her but not in Dave's presence- not now. "We'll catch him Sam, have faith."
"Faith is not easy to have when everything is telling you a happy ending is not in sight." She looked at him and he drew in his breath. He wasn't sure if she was talking about Podena or their relationship.
"We should get back to work," was all he could muster to say.
Podena entered the warehouse gleefully. "Oh Thomas, I'm home. Everything is set!" It was then that he noticed that Thomas was missing from the scene. "Fucking asshole," he screamed, kicking the wall with his foot. He drew out his gun; Thomas wouldn't have been able to get far in his condition he thought. Podena started out heading down the street. In the short distance the McClaine's Bakery sign glowed.
To be
continued...