Homecoming
Chapter 35
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"Ok… here's the good stuff… or rather, bad stuff, depending on how you look at it. Greg Bunhill has not always been Greg Bunhill…" Simon Lee reached for his glass of water and took a gulp. Sweat stains marked his loose t-shirt in the sweltering night and beads of perspiration lined his forehead. He arrived at Frank's apartment a minute after the brothers stepped into the apartment, all panting and huffing.
"What do you mean?" Joe rushed Simon and the FBI agent raised a hand, signaling Joe to be patient as he finished his water. The younger Hardy gazed intently into the FBI's eyes, not liking the wait, as the older Hardy laid back on his exclusive easy chair, frowning in contemplation.
"I mean Greg Bunhill used to go by another name a long time ago. Does the name Keith Leigh sound familiar?"
Frank sucked in a deep breath which Joe knew was a sure sign that that the walking encyclopedia knew exactly what Simon was talking about. "Keith Leigh- he was executed in Mississippi four years ago…"
"About when the serial kidnappings started…" Simon cast a glance at Joe's quizzical look and quickly filled the anxious brother in on the details, "Keith Leigh's case was a gruesome affair that rocked Mississippi many years ago. He bludgeoned his daughter and then his wife to death in front of his hapless young son. An unrepentant sadist, Keith actually said on the stand that he enjoyed what he did tremendously and was merely teaching his son a lesson in mortality when his son asked him about death and suffering, after seeing a cat writhing in pain- having the misfortune of being alive still after being ran over by a car."
Joe grimaced as bile heaved up his throat. Swallowing it down, he plucked up some courage to probe further, "And the young son?"
"His name's Justin Leigh. He was eight when his younger sister and mother died while he watched. We dug up his records and found out that he was adopted by a kind family and took their name, Bunhill."
"Greg's Jason Leigh…" Joe whispered, the revelation dawning on him. Simon nodded and Frank hunched over with curled up lips.
"So you're saying that, after witnessing the tragedy, Greg's probably psychologically harmed terribly- I can just imagine it- a question asked in innocence killed his mom and sister- it wasn't his fault but he probably felt responsible, being so young then. Then Keith's execution, which was well broadcast, must have snapped something in Greg. He might have already known the disturbed Richard Thompson already and, together, they formed an unholy union, committing those acts for motives rational only to themselves."
"Well, we do have a psychological motive and something else. Something that tells us why Hallie wasn't killed off immediately…" Simon reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small print-out. "This is pretty fuzzy as I printed it out on low resolution but you can still see the mark resemblance. I have taken the initiative to call the police to stepped up security around your area but both of you beat me to it…good calling."
Joe took the print-out from Simon, turning ashen immediately. Frank leaned over to steal a peek and let out a low whistle.
"Who's this?" Joe asked, his voice sepulchral and foreboding. The tacit answer was already known to him even if Simon didn't spell it out with spoken words.
"Jenny Leigh, Greg's little sister. She died at the age of six and some months, the same age as Hallie now. Don't they look extremely alike?" Simon prompted softly. "A freak occurrence most probably."
"Yes. And that tells us we must hurry and catch Greg before he strikes again. The fact that he left the bug in the house still means that he's planning something desperate. I don't think he left town yet. I think we can deduce that commercially available bugs have a transmission range of about a thousand meters or less. Unless Greg is hiding out in another car, he should be residing in a motel nearby our house which should be within the radius." Frank exchanged a knowing look with Joe.
"Sunny's Bed and Breakfast?" Joe ventured a guess and Frank nodded.
"Yes. It's definitely worth a shot," His brother eyes swept across both Simon and him, meeting with nods of grim, silent approval.
***
"See anything?" Frank asked Simon who was peering into the motel room using a pair of binoculars from the inside of their rented Toyota which they obtained without much fuss from the twenty-four hours car rental at Bayport's local airport. Frank casually asked if their only Porsche was returned and the sales assistant nodded enthusiastically, thinking that they were big spenders and was a little disappointed that they rented a common Toyota instead. By some stroke of luck, the sales assistant, with some bitterness and resignation, commented something about the previous hirer of the Porsche exchanging a 'beauty' for a 'plain Jane.' When Frank asked about the 'plain Jane,' the sales assistant sighed and told them that the previous hirer exchanged his Porsche in the wee hours one morning for a common Nissan.
Not wanting to leave any grounds uncovered, Frank messaged his father to keep a close watch on Hallie. Joe was adamant about going to the Benders' to break the news and warn Vanessa personally and Frank was insistent on going with him. However, Joe pushed Frank and Simon to go ahead to the motel, arguing that Greg would most likely be there and if they waste anymore time, Greg could make his move or escape and they would never catch up with him. In a way, Frank was glad that Joe wasn't here with them- in case they needed to get into a cross-fire; his recuperating brother wouldn't be placed in anymore danger.
When they reached Sunny's Bed and Breakfast, Simon did some clandestine surveying and noted a Nissan in the car park of the motel, rising up their hopes. Together, they interviewed Sunny, proprietor of the motel and after Simon flashed his FBI card, Sunny was free-flowing with information. He ascertained that a man who looked like Greg rented a room under the name Adam Smith a week odd ago- around the same time when Greg was supposed to have left for his Economics conference in UCLA. Adam Smith too was a famous late economist and Frank thought that Greg could have pulled the name out of a hat instinctively due to his area of expertise.
"Nope. Looks like our main man is asleep. Let's go make our arrest." Simon turned and winked at Frank who smiled back, a little uncomfortable suddenly. He knew it was late but it was strange that Greg could actually sleep if he was planning something big…
Silly. He's human after all. He needs his rest. Maybe this time, Frank Hardy, you can actually stop a killer before he does anything tragic to others or himself.
"This thing will blow over soon. Your brother and his family will be safe again." Simon nodded towards the outside, indicating they should get their butt moving, "C'mon."
The two men strode up confidently towards the motel room although the assured steps taken by Frank were a façade. Richard Thompson, with the help of Greg, had pulled many fast ones on them, always a step ahead of them. Suddenly, as they approached the darkened room, a queasy feeling churned his stomach and he had an ominous feeling that his situation, which the thought would be the most dangerous as they would be catching Greg by surprise, was actually the safest.
Please let Greg be inside here…. Please God… Don't let him be so intuitive or smart to make a faster move than us…
Let him be here, not anywhere else.
Simon knocked on the door before quickly stepping aside, gesturing for Frank to do the same in case Greg started shooting through the door.
Nothing happened. Frank's heart pounded faster.
"He could be in a sound sleep…"
"I'll go get Sunny to open the door for us." Frank offered, hurrying on his way as the ominous hands of Fate and miscalculated moves enveloped him.
Moments later, he returned with the motel owner who was fumbling with a large bunch of keys. They got the door to unlock eventually and when Frank stepped inside and turned on the lights, he knew that Greg had inhibited the room as glossy photographs of Hallie and yellowed pictures of his sister laid scattered on the bed.
But Greg Bunhill was nowhere to be found.
***
"Joe…" Vanessa greeted him at the door dressed in a bathrobe pulled over her nightgown for modesty, little surprised to see him. She pushed her fringe back and smiled uneasily, "Hallie's over at your place."
"I know… but I don't need Hallie as an excuse to see you… Ness, can we talk?" He grabbed her hands and glanced inside, noting that the house was empty.
"Where's Andrea? Asleep?"
"Mom flew to New York to take care of some business. Joe… I'm tired. We'll talk tomorrow, all right?" Vanessa stifled a yawn but Joe knew it was feigned. He tried to push his way in but Vanessa held fort, refusing him entry.
"All right. Ness, listen. Greg is the kidnapper so if he calls you or asks to see you…"
She shot him an incredulous look and stood still with her arms akimbo, "Joe, I am beginning to think that we can be friends but…but this takes the cake… can you stop being so childish and…"
"Ness! I will never say something like that of anyone have I not evidence. But Greg planted a bug in my house and that's how he warned Richard Thompson of our activities so Richard Thompson can be a step ahead of us all the time. We found out that he never left Bayport- Chief Collig can confirm that for you. And he actually had another identity many years ago- you see, his kid sister was killed by his father and I think it's no coincidence that Hallie looks a hell lot like her… Simon and Frank are making an arrest as we speak. We kind of deduced where he could be, most likely."
Vanessa softly closed the door behind her before taking Joe's left wrist in her hand. "What rubbish are you spouting this time, Joe? I don't have time for nonsense…"
"Yes, you have time to listen to what I have to say or you'll just be slamming the door in my face. Greg must be acting a little out of sorts lately, right? Think about it Ness… Please…." Joe clasped his right hand over hers, imploring her with all his sincerity. Vanessa looked behind her, troubles lining her face.
"Joe… I…" She stuttered for a moment and closed her eyes, shaking terribly. Joe's heart melt and the knowledge that stabbed at him like a thousand daggers returned with an old resignation. He had always been in love with her- all other girls, including Elle whom he really liked, were but side distractions. The reason for his inability to move on was as clear as a supernova in the stark blackness of the Universe- the reason was her, Vanessa.
He pulled her close and soothed her hair, understanding how she must be feeling right now- should she trust him or her husband? Either step might damn her- trust him and if he was spouting nonsense, she would lose her family. Trust her husband and if he was right, then she would be putting Hallie in peril.
She could never put Hallie in peril and women were the most intuitive creatures he ever came across.
"Joe, what do I do?" She pulled away from him, tears streaming down her cheeks as her eyes shone too brightly with fear, "I…"
"Don't worry. Frank and Simon will bring Greg in to justice. I have faith in them. I just wanted to know you're safe so I came over- also to warn you as well, just in case… you know. I think I'll head over to where they are now. They may need back-up…"
"No… Joe…" She whispered urgently, "Greg is taking a shower… he came back yesterday, saying that he wanted to be with me."
"He's inside?" Joe inhaled in sharply. Why couldn't, for once, they be ahead of Greg Bunhill?
"Yes… I…"
"Go back in, I'll sneak in behind you. Pretend to know nothing… I'll think of something…"
"Joe…" Vanessa bit her lips and Joe pulled her in once more for a quick hug.
"Don't worry. Everything will be fine. I won't let anyone or anything hurt you, not even a strand of your hair."
