BackTrek by Kelvin Kelley
Signal seven meant that the officer had found a deceased person. These weren’t just people, they were his family, Jack thought, as he power slid around the corner. His car almost clipped the street sign.
“Put a call into homicide. We’ve got a signal five situation.” The officer reported, as he indicated that a murder had occurred.
“Should we dispatch an E.T. now?” The dispatcher asked. Jack was on his street, and could see the officer’s car parked in front of the house. The blue and red lights eerily blanketed the neighboring houses with the flicker of their silent glow.
“The sooner the better.” The officer responded, as Jack locked his tires and slid to a halt in front of the house. He jumped out of the car and ran to the front of the house only to be stopped at the front door by the officer who had responded.
“Detective, you don’t want to go in there!” The officer said, as he desperately tried to restrain Jack. The harder he tried, the harder Jack fought.
“Get the hell out of my way!” Jack screamed in rage as he continued to struggle, until he finally broke free and entered the house.
As he went through the doorway, time shifted into a nightmarish slow motion. Each step he took seemed to take forever. Every sound seemed amplified a thousand times. His own heartbeat pounded in his ears, with only the sound of his breathing to drown it out.
“Trace!” He yelled as he headed towards the living room. “Trace!” He yelled out again as he stepped into the entranceway of the living room. His eye caught the paisley pattern of the sofa that Trace had talked him into buying, even though he liked the solid blue one instead. To the left of it, at eye level on the wall, hung their wedding picture, and beneath it, was a blood smeared streak that disappeared behind his wife’s head. She sat slumped against the wall.
“No! Dear God, Trace!” What little composure that still remained in him began to flow out in a burst of emotion. Tears streamed down his face as he started towards her slumped body. “Trace!” He sobbed.
He reached down to her, and dropped to one knee. His mouth opened with a cry that would not come. His arms reached towards her, but he knew that if he touched her at all, he would disturb the crime scene. He sat there and sobbed loudly, and wished that it was him that was dead instead of his wife. Through the torrent of his tears, he noticed something on the couch, and slowly turned. His sobs grew louder, as though his heart itself would rupture in his chest as he saw that Bella and Brandon were slumped together on the couch. It was as if they hugged one another, as they tried to find comfort in their own unexplainable deaths. He whispered their names through his tears, and reached his hands towards them. But he was unable to bring himself any closer to them.
He dropped his head in devastation and then saw the last body, and even as he tried to bring his blurry eyes into focus he knew in his heart, who it was. Mike, his only brother, lay beside him, dead. As Jack slumped to the floor, his hand fell into the pool of blood that had trickled from his brother’s deceased body. He sobbed loudly, barely able to catch his breath, and dreaded the reality that he faced. He cried with the anguish that only few will ever know, and that only a handful could ever understand. He hugged himself as he sobbed, and rocked back and forth in a desperate attempt to gain some comfort. He felt none. In one short frame of time, all that he had ever cared about, longed for, or dreamed of, was forever taken away. It had been shattered beyond all recognition. And there was no explanation in sight. The room began to spin around him, and he felt as if he was being sucked into the depths of hell itself.
The officer that had met him at the door, rounded the corner with another officer on his heels, and the two of them helped Jack, now compliant, to his feet and escorted him out of the house. As the officers tried to make him comfortable, Jack watched numbly as a pair of paramedics ran into the house only to slowly exit a few minutes later, empty handed. His family was beyond the help of paramedics. Jack knew that, but as he watched the uniformed men leave the house, the realization sucked at his soul. Through a mental haze, he watched an unmarked car pull up into the driveway. His captain stepped out and surveyed the scene. Captain Howe had grown to be a father figure for Jack over the last few years. His oversized frame and gruff demeanor added to that familiarity. He was always one that would see that his own were well taken care of, even if it meant a lost night’s sleep. As he approached Jack, the Evidence Technician’s van pulled up behind Howe’s car and parked.
“Jack. You okay, son?” He asked. His face expressed genuine concern. He reached his hand to Jack’s shoulder.
“They’re dead, Cap.” Jack said coldly. His initial hysteria was had began to subside, and the numbness of shock had begun to blanket him.
“I know, Jack. But they’re in a better place, now. Better than you or I.” Howe said solemnly. Jack looked up, past Howe and watched as the uniformed E.T. stepped to the rear of his van and opened the doors. Jack knew that if anyone on the entire department could shed any light on what had happened here tonight, it would be the lone E.T. Sergeant McAlister was the responding E.T. and was as good as they came. With his skills and access to the DNA National Database, they should know who caused this tragedy, and they would probably know tonight. Once the identity was established, often an arrest was all but guaranteed.
“Jack? You still with me, son?” Howe asked.
“Yeah.” Jack said absently as he rose up. His eyes locked on McAlister’s van.
“He’ll come up with the answers we need, Jack. You know he will.” Howe said , as he nodded towards McAlister. Jack nodded too, but his mind had already begun to settle in on the idea of revenge. Whoever could do this, would do anything, and definitely did not deserve to live. As Jack watched the older man leave the rear of his van and head toward the house, his equipment case in his hand, the night air suddenly began to seem dryer. His vision began to become crisp, and his hearing became more acute. He had often heard that as shock overcame a person, things would shift into a nightmarish, almost dreamlike state. Maybe what he felt now was that same effect, but for him it helped him to focus. He had to know who had done this to his family.
“Hey, Jim!” Jack called out. McAlister stopped in the doorway and looked back at Jack, as his eyes peered over the half-glasses that hung down on his face. “Let me know as soon as you can!” Jack said. McAlister looked to Howe, who nodded affirmatively, and then back to Jack. McAlister nodded once, and then entered the house without ever having said a word. Jack’s heart raced as he realized that McAlister had agreed to tell him what he found. Often, a family member of a victim was not allowed to know about an on going investigation until a suspect was apprehended and a trial date set.
“Come on, Jack. Let me buy you a cup of coffee.” Howe said as he started to lead Jack towards one of the many police cruisers that were now parked on the street.
“No! I need to be here!” Jack said suddenly as he retracted from Howe.
“Nothing is going to happen before we get back, Jack. I won’t let it.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Jack replied.
“Look, Jack.”
“Look my ass! That’s my wife, my family in there. I can’t just leave them laying in there like that. I can’t-” Jack broke down in sobs again. Howe stepped over and did his best to comfort him. After a few moments, he urged him towards his car. Reluctantly Jack agreed to leave with Howe. They approached the cruiser closest to them, and after a brief discussion with the uniformed officer that stood by the door, Howe opened the passenger door, and helped Jack get in. Howe got in the drivers side. Jack turned and watched through the window as Howe drove them away.
Jim McAlister had been an Evidence Technician for longer than he cared to remember. He had seen more blood over the years than any Hollywood special effects guru could dream up. Everyday when he went to work he knew that he would probably face another gruesome crime scene, but still retained a hint of pleasure at th
e thought of being able to pin down the creep that had caused it. He still remembered in vivid detail how hard his job used to be. Back when there was no DNA National Database. Proving that a perp was guilty, or even finding the identity was more like a crap shoot than an investigation. At first he had resisted the change to the computerized scan method, but the first time that he was able to identify and nail a suspect in days instead of weeks, he changed his tune. In his position, the fact that he could help justice be done was the only thing that drove him.
As he walked into the living-room, he found a clean area on the rug and sat down his equipment, careful not to disturb any potential evidence. He reached into his bag and pulled out an elongated device, that had a tubular purplish bulb running its full length.
“Okay, asshole, let’s see what you did.” He muttered to himself as he turned on the light. As he shined the light on the tangle of bodies, the blood splatters began to glow an eerie bright purple, and McAlister stepped towards Mike’s body.
Over an hour had passed when Captain Howe finally parked the cruiser back in front of the house. As he turned off the ignition, Jack leaped out of the car and ran to the front of the house. Two uniformed officers stopped him from entering the house, and Jack began to argue with them as Howe approached, slightly out of breath.
“Jack! Calm down. Give me a minute with McAlister, and I’ll brief you on what we’ve got so far.” Jack began to argue, but could tell from the look in Howe’s eyes, he decided that was the best he could get, at least for right now. Jack relaxed some and reluctantly agreed. He stepped aside and let Howe enter the house.
“Jim?” The Captain said as he stepped through the doorway.
“In here!” McAlister answered. As Howe entered the living-room, McAlister closed the lid to his equipment case.
“Did you get an identity on the perp?”
“Nope.”
“What do you mean, nope?”
“Just what I said, Captain. Not a single shred of DNA evidence that doesn’t belong here. I found plenty of blood, hair, skin particles…you name it, I found it." McAlister said quietly. “It’s just like those two execution crimes. The only DNA I found belonged to the victims.”
“Are you saying that this crime was committed by the same perp as the two execution crimes?” Howe asked. “But the M.O. is different. I mean they’re not all neatly lined up. And there’s blood everywhere.”
“I said that there was no DNA. Yeah, it’s definitely the same perp. Or somebody that’s he has trained. It’s a professional job, no doubt, but this time it looks like he was in a hurry.” McAlister stood up.
“Well if that’s Tracey, and those are the two kids, then who’s this character?” Howe asked as he pointed towards Mike’s body.
“Michael King. Apparently the brother. It’s a slaughter all right, almost a case of genocide, but...”
“But what, Jim? What else?” Howe asked.
“I’m worried, Tom.” Howe looked McAlister in the eye. He knew that the man had to be concerned for him to call him by his first name.
“About what?” Howe asked.
“I did find another DNA sample. It’s your boy, Jack.”
“Well he used to live here for God’s sake. What do you expect.”
“This looked fresh, Tom. I won’t know until I get back to the lab, but my guess is its only a few hours old.”
“What, you’ve got a machine that tells how old a hair is now?”
“No, but I can test blood. It was his blood. I found it on the door knob over there.” He said as he pointed towards the backdoor.
“That doesn’t mean a thing.” Howe replied in defense of Jack.
“By itself? No. But look at this.” McAlister reached into his pocket and removed his police issue phone. He tapped a few commands and turned it toward the Captain. It showed an outside scene at night.
“What’s this?” Howe asked.
“Surveillance video. I got it from the alarm company a few minutes ago. It’s tied into their alarm system. Didn’t your boy mention it?” Howe shook his head. Jack hadn’t mentioned any video surveillance. On the small screen, an alarm began to blare and floodlights came on, and illuminated what appeared to be the backyard of the residence. A tall man, wearing a black coat ran into the screen from beneath the camera’s viewpoint and away into the darkness at the far side of the yard.
“So that’s our guy?” Howe asked.
“There’s more.” McAlister said as another figure clad in a dark coat suddenly ran into the field of view and followed after the first. “This guy is about the same height and build as your boy. I think you should have a talk with him, and find out where he’s been and what he’s been up to.”
“Jack couldn’t be involved in something like this.” Howe said defiantly, even though his voice revealed that his confidence had begun to waiver.
“You handle it like you want, but if this sample comes back fresh, he’s going to have to come in. It’s as simple as that.” McAlister pocketed the phone. He hesitated for a moment as he looked into Howe’s eyes, then shook his head and walked away. Captain Howe stood there for a moment in total silence, as he thought about what he had just learned and tried to develop a strategy to handle Jack with. He looked towards the backdoor again, and heard McAlister’s van roar to life. Howe knew that McAlister was rarely ever wrong, but he just couldn’t believe that Jack could have had anything to do with his own family’s murder. But no matter what he believed, McAlister was right. If the blood sample off of the door was fresh, then Jack would instantly be a prime suspect. Slowly he walked towards the front door, and wished that he had never made Captain. He wished that he was still just another cop on a beat.
“Captain? McAlister said that it’s the probably same guy!” Jack was angry, and frustrated. Howe watched as Jack told him what McAlister had relayed to him, and suddenly Howe realized that he now watched Jack intently for any signs of guilt. What McAlister had found had cast more than vague suspicion. It had cast doubt.
“Jack, he also found something else.”
“What?”
“He found your blood on the backdoor.”
“The backdoor? I don’t remember ever bleeding on the backdoor...but Jesus, Captain I used to live here.” Jack said defensively as he suddenly realized what the Captain had implied.
“I know Jack, but evidence is evidence. He’s going to check the sample at the lab, to date it. In the meantime, you take some leave. A few weeks to get your self together and try to get a grip on things.”
“But Captain, I want to catch this son of a-”
“Jack! I know what you want. We all want to catch him. And we will. But for the time being you’re on leave.”
“But-”
“I’m not asking you Jack, I’m telling you.” Howe said. He turned and started to walk towards his car. As he moved away from Jack, the images that McAlister had shown him popped into his mind. “Oh, and Jack.” He said as he turned back. “Don’t leave the city, unless you let me know. Policy and all...you understand.” Jack stared at him, dumbfounded.
Jack watched as Howe backed down the driveway, and drove off into the night. He was beyond shock and beyond disbelief. His entire family had been murdered and now his superior, someone he thought of as his friend, thought that he might in some way be responsible. Whoever did this had been involved in the execution murders that he and Penelli had investigated, and now not only was he off the case, but he was out of work. At least for the next two weeks. As he stood there and stared after Howe’s car as it disappeared, another van rounded the corner and pulled up into his driveway. The medical examiner had arrived. Jack had seen more than he could handle. He could not watch the M.E. drag out the lifeless bodies of his loved ones. He ran to his car, jumped in, and sped off into the night.
Chapter 18
“Put a call into homicide. We’ve got a signal five situation.” The officer reported, as he indicated that a murder had occurred.
“Should we dispatch an E.T. now?” The dispatcher asked. Jack was on his street, and could see the officer’s car parked in front of the house. The blue and red lights eerily blanketed the neighboring houses with the flicker of their silent glow.
“The sooner the better.” The officer responded, as Jack locked his tires and slid to a halt in front of the house. He jumped out of the car and ran to the front of the house only to be stopped at the front door by the officer who had responded.
“Detective, you don’t want to go in there!” The officer said, as he desperately tried to restrain Jack. The harder he tried, the harder Jack fought.
“Get the hell out of my way!” Jack screamed in rage as he continued to struggle, until he finally broke free and entered the house.
As he went through the doorway, time shifted into a nightmarish slow motion. Each step he took seemed to take forever. Every sound seemed amplified a thousand times. His own heartbeat pounded in his ears, with only the sound of his breathing to drown it out.
“Trace!” He yelled as he headed towards the living room. “Trace!” He yelled out again as he stepped into the entranceway of the living room. His eye caught the paisley pattern of the sofa that Trace had talked him into buying, even though he liked the solid blue one instead. To the left of it, at eye level on the wall, hung their wedding picture, and beneath it, was a blood smeared streak that disappeared behind his wife’s head. She sat slumped against the wall.
“No! Dear God, Trace!” What little composure that still remained in him began to flow out in a burst of emotion. Tears streamed down his face as he started towards her slumped body. “Trace!” He sobbed.
He reached down to her, and dropped to one knee. His mouth opened with a cry that would not come. His arms reached towards her, but he knew that if he touched her at all, he would disturb the crime scene. He sat there and sobbed loudly, and wished that it was him that was dead instead of his wife. Through the torrent of his tears, he noticed something on the couch, and slowly turned. His sobs grew louder, as though his heart itself would rupture in his chest as he saw that Bella and Brandon were slumped together on the couch. It was as if they hugged one another, as they tried to find comfort in their own unexplainable deaths. He whispered their names through his tears, and reached his hands towards them. But he was unable to bring himself any closer to them.
He dropped his head in devastation and then saw the last body, and even as he tried to bring his blurry eyes into focus he knew in his heart, who it was. Mike, his only brother, lay beside him, dead. As Jack slumped to the floor, his hand fell into the pool of blood that had trickled from his brother’s deceased body. He sobbed loudly, barely able to catch his breath, and dreaded the reality that he faced. He cried with the anguish that only few will ever know, and that only a handful could ever understand. He hugged himself as he sobbed, and rocked back and forth in a desperate attempt to gain some comfort. He felt none. In one short frame of time, all that he had ever cared about, longed for, or dreamed of, was forever taken away. It had been shattered beyond all recognition. And there was no explanation in sight. The room began to spin around him, and he felt as if he was being sucked into the depths of hell itself.
The officer that had met him at the door, rounded the corner with another officer on his heels, and the two of them helped Jack, now compliant, to his feet and escorted him out of the house. As the officers tried to make him comfortable, Jack watched numbly as a pair of paramedics ran into the house only to slowly exit a few minutes later, empty handed. His family was beyond the help of paramedics. Jack knew that, but as he watched the uniformed men leave the house, the realization sucked at his soul. Through a mental haze, he watched an unmarked car pull up into the driveway. His captain stepped out and surveyed the scene. Captain Howe had grown to be a father figure for Jack over the last few years. His oversized frame and gruff demeanor added to that familiarity. He was always one that would see that his own were well taken care of, even if it meant a lost night’s sleep. As he approached Jack, the Evidence Technician’s van pulled up behind Howe’s car and parked.
“Jack. You okay, son?” He asked. His face expressed genuine concern. He reached his hand to Jack’s shoulder.
“They’re dead, Cap.” Jack said coldly. His initial hysteria was had began to subside, and the numbness of shock had begun to blanket him.
“I know, Jack. But they’re in a better place, now. Better than you or I.” Howe said solemnly. Jack looked up, past Howe and watched as the uniformed E.T. stepped to the rear of his van and opened the doors. Jack knew that if anyone on the entire department could shed any light on what had happened here tonight, it would be the lone E.T. Sergeant McAlister was the responding E.T. and was as good as they came. With his skills and access to the DNA National Database, they should know who caused this tragedy, and they would probably know tonight. Once the identity was established, often an arrest was all but guaranteed.
“Jack? You still with me, son?” Howe asked.
“Yeah.” Jack said absently as he rose up. His eyes locked on McAlister’s van.
“He’ll come up with the answers we need, Jack. You know he will.” Howe said , as he nodded towards McAlister. Jack nodded too, but his mind had already begun to settle in on the idea of revenge. Whoever could do this, would do anything, and definitely did not deserve to live. As Jack watched the older man leave the rear of his van and head toward the house, his equipment case in his hand, the night air suddenly began to seem dryer. His vision began to become crisp, and his hearing became more acute. He had often heard that as shock overcame a person, things would shift into a nightmarish, almost dreamlike state. Maybe what he felt now was that same effect, but for him it helped him to focus. He had to know who had done this to his family.
“Hey, Jim!” Jack called out. McAlister stopped in the doorway and looked back at Jack, as his eyes peered over the half-glasses that hung down on his face. “Let me know as soon as you can!” Jack said. McAlister looked to Howe, who nodded affirmatively, and then back to Jack. McAlister nodded once, and then entered the house without ever having said a word. Jack’s heart raced as he realized that McAlister had agreed to tell him what he found. Often, a family member of a victim was not allowed to know about an on going investigation until a suspect was apprehended and a trial date set.
“Come on, Jack. Let me buy you a cup of coffee.” Howe said as he started to lead Jack towards one of the many police cruisers that were now parked on the street.
“No! I need to be here!” Jack said suddenly as he retracted from Howe.
“Nothing is going to happen before we get back, Jack. I won’t let it.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Jack replied.
“Look, Jack.”
“Look my ass! That’s my wife, my family in there. I can’t just leave them laying in there like that. I can’t-” Jack broke down in sobs again. Howe stepped over and did his best to comfort him. After a few moments, he urged him towards his car. Reluctantly Jack agreed to leave with Howe. They approached the cruiser closest to them, and after a brief discussion with the uniformed officer that stood by the door, Howe opened the passenger door, and helped Jack get in. Howe got in the drivers side. Jack turned and watched through the window as Howe drove them away.
Jim McAlister had been an Evidence Technician for longer than he cared to remember. He had seen more blood over the years than any Hollywood special effects guru could dream up. Everyday when he went to work he knew that he would probably face another gruesome crime scene, but still retained a hint of pleasure at th
As he walked into the living-room, he found a clean area on the rug and sat down his equipment, careful not to disturb any potential evidence. He reached into his bag and pulled out an elongated device, that had a tubular purplish bulb running its full length.
“Okay, asshole, let’s see what you did.” He muttered to himself as he turned on the light. As he shined the light on the tangle of bodies, the blood splatters began to glow an eerie bright purple, and McAlister stepped towards Mike’s body.
Over an hour had passed when Captain Howe finally parked the cruiser back in front of the house. As he turned off the ignition, Jack leaped out of the car and ran to the front of the house. Two uniformed officers stopped him from entering the house, and Jack began to argue with them as Howe approached, slightly out of breath.
“Jack! Calm down. Give me a minute with McAlister, and I’ll brief you on what we’ve got so far.” Jack began to argue, but could tell from the look in Howe’s eyes, he decided that was the best he could get, at least for right now. Jack relaxed some and reluctantly agreed. He stepped aside and let Howe enter the house.
“Jim?” The Captain said as he stepped through the doorway.
“In here!” McAlister answered. As Howe entered the living-room, McAlister closed the lid to his equipment case.
“Did you get an identity on the perp?”
“Nope.”
“What do you mean, nope?”
“Just what I said, Captain. Not a single shred of DNA evidence that doesn’t belong here. I found plenty of blood, hair, skin particles…you name it, I found it." McAlister said quietly. “It’s just like those two execution crimes. The only DNA I found belonged to the victims.”
“Are you saying that this crime was committed by the same perp as the two execution crimes?” Howe asked. “But the M.O. is different. I mean they’re not all neatly lined up. And there’s blood everywhere.”
“I said that there was no DNA. Yeah, it’s definitely the same perp. Or somebody that’s he has trained. It’s a professional job, no doubt, but this time it looks like he was in a hurry.” McAlister stood up.
“Well if that’s Tracey, and those are the two kids, then who’s this character?” Howe asked as he pointed towards Mike’s body.
“Michael King. Apparently the brother. It’s a slaughter all right, almost a case of genocide, but...”
“But what, Jim? What else?” Howe asked.
“I’m worried, Tom.” Howe looked McAlister in the eye. He knew that the man had to be concerned for him to call him by his first name.
“About what?” Howe asked.
“I did find another DNA sample. It’s your boy, Jack.”
“Well he used to live here for God’s sake. What do you expect.”
“This looked fresh, Tom. I won’t know until I get back to the lab, but my guess is its only a few hours old.”
“What, you’ve got a machine that tells how old a hair is now?”
“No, but I can test blood. It was his blood. I found it on the door knob over there.” He said as he pointed towards the backdoor.
“That doesn’t mean a thing.” Howe replied in defense of Jack.
“By itself? No. But look at this.” McAlister reached into his pocket and removed his police issue phone. He tapped a few commands and turned it toward the Captain. It showed an outside scene at night.
“What’s this?” Howe asked.
“Surveillance video. I got it from the alarm company a few minutes ago. It’s tied into their alarm system. Didn’t your boy mention it?” Howe shook his head. Jack hadn’t mentioned any video surveillance. On the small screen, an alarm began to blare and floodlights came on, and illuminated what appeared to be the backyard of the residence. A tall man, wearing a black coat ran into the screen from beneath the camera’s viewpoint and away into the darkness at the far side of the yard.
“So that’s our guy?” Howe asked.
“There’s more.” McAlister said as another figure clad in a dark coat suddenly ran into the field of view and followed after the first. “This guy is about the same height and build as your boy. I think you should have a talk with him, and find out where he’s been and what he’s been up to.”
“Jack couldn’t be involved in something like this.” Howe said defiantly, even though his voice revealed that his confidence had begun to waiver.
“You handle it like you want, but if this sample comes back fresh, he’s going to have to come in. It’s as simple as that.” McAlister pocketed the phone. He hesitated for a moment as he looked into Howe’s eyes, then shook his head and walked away. Captain Howe stood there for a moment in total silence, as he thought about what he had just learned and tried to develop a strategy to handle Jack with. He looked towards the backdoor again, and heard McAlister’s van roar to life. Howe knew that McAlister was rarely ever wrong, but he just couldn’t believe that Jack could have had anything to do with his own family’s murder. But no matter what he believed, McAlister was right. If the blood sample off of the door was fresh, then Jack would instantly be a prime suspect. Slowly he walked towards the front door, and wished that he had never made Captain. He wished that he was still just another cop on a beat.
“Captain? McAlister said that it’s the probably same guy!” Jack was angry, and frustrated. Howe watched as Jack told him what McAlister had relayed to him, and suddenly Howe realized that he now watched Jack intently for any signs of guilt. What McAlister had found had cast more than vague suspicion. It had cast doubt.
“Jack, he also found something else.”
“What?”
“He found your blood on the backdoor.”
“The backdoor? I don’t remember ever bleeding on the backdoor...but Jesus, Captain I used to live here.” Jack said defensively as he suddenly realized what the Captain had implied.
“I know Jack, but evidence is evidence. He’s going to check the sample at the lab, to date it. In the meantime, you take some leave. A few weeks to get your self together and try to get a grip on things.”
“But Captain, I want to catch this son of a-”
“Jack! I know what you want. We all want to catch him. And we will. But for the time being you’re on leave.”
“But-”
“I’m not asking you Jack, I’m telling you.” Howe said. He turned and started to walk towards his car. As he moved away from Jack, the images that McAlister had shown him popped into his mind. “Oh, and Jack.” He said as he turned back. “Don’t leave the city, unless you let me know. Policy and all...you understand.” Jack stared at him, dumbfounded.
Jack watched as Howe backed down the driveway, and drove off into the night. He was beyond shock and beyond disbelief. His entire family had been murdered and now his superior, someone he thought of as his friend, thought that he might in some way be responsible. Whoever did this had been involved in the execution murders that he and Penelli had investigated, and now not only was he off the case, but he was out of work. At least for the next two weeks. As he stood there and stared after Howe’s car as it disappeared, another van rounded the corner and pulled up into his driveway. The medical examiner had arrived. Jack had seen more than he could handle. He could not watch the M.E. drag out the lifeless bodies of his loved ones. He ran to his car, jumped in, and sped off into the night.
Chapter 18