Running with Secrets

Untitled Part 55

"I don't know if bringing Detective Johnston back into this is a good idea, Captain." Sally said the next morning to the room full of officers who would be taking care of the operation to bring The Electrician down, including Michael Paul--in an outrageous suit and hat, and a mysteriously altered voice over the speaker phone.

"I understand your concern, but since he's been in it since the beginning," he vaguely looked at Paul for a mere moment, "he has insight the others don't."

The deep understanding that passed between Sally and Captain Vanderson was again not lost on Michael. He only wished he could decipher it.

"But if the female's body has never been recovered...do you really think The Electrician is going to fall for this kind of nonsense?" Michael Paul asked. More sarcasm than skepticism dripped through his voice.

"I understand your concern," the voice on the phone said, "but lest we forget, your body double is lying in the morgue, waiting for cremation. If you're not careful, the men in question will kill you all over again, and I have it on good authority they will take greater care to complete the task next time, Detective Paul."

Michael squinted his eyes and pursed his lips, knowing the voice was right.

"I just think the operation should wait for a few weeks, at least. Maybe until, say, Thanksgiving?" Sally suggested.

"I don't think so, Loveridge." Captain Vanderson said. "I know why you've raised those concerns, and as much as some of them are justified, it's not enough."

Michael Paul sat quietly at the end of the table at the back of the room, taking in all the information he could. Although he'd been involved in the case since the beginning, he didn't know about the missing persons case that was also knee-deep in the middle of was the same case. As far as he knew, she was supposed to be dead and the county had claimed the body for cremation.

There was a knock at the door and Vanderson answered. He nearly welcomed the sight of his secretary until she asked to speak to him outside the conference room, so he stepped out into the hallway where he was met by his sister.

"Patti?" He startled. "What brings you here?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

"I haven't heard from you in over a week, Seth!" She sniffled and wiped at her already bloodshot eyes. The tears, it seemed had not stopped for long, if at all.

He raked his hands through his hair as his younger sister tried to keep her voice down.

"I need answers. If Jeannie is dead, I need to know. If she's alive, I need to know. How hard are your people really looking?" The look that washed over Patti's face pained Seth. He never let that look on a survivor get to him until now, Now that he had to live with it in his life.

He stepped closer to his sister and put an arm around her shoulder. "Truth is, Patti," he said, choosing his words carefully. "I don't know if we can find her at the moment. It's been--"

"THREE WEEKS, SETH!" She looked around to see if anyone had heard her, to her relief, no one had reacted, they weren't close enough. "I know how long my daughter has been missing and now her boyfriend is dead!" Pattie let the tears fall, "I loved that girl with everything about me, Seth, and her good-for-nothing father hasn't even returned my phone calls. He doesn't care that she's dead, Seth! I have to know! You have to tell me. NOW!" Patti was breathless after this and the tears never once stopped throughout her rant, not that he blamed her for any of it, if nothing else, she should have hit him several times.

He pulled his sister into a small hug and let her cry without saying a word. Not that he could tell her he knew exactly where Jeannie was or that she was safe. He wanted to tell her so much, but it would do more harm than good to the mountain community  she was hiding in. He only hoped Heath would be back soon enough.

He pointed to the window, to the conference room full of people. "Do you see all those people in there, Patti?" He asked. "Every one of them is involved with Jeannie's case." He sighed. "I don't have anything else to add, I'm sorry." was all he could say. "I'm so sorry."

Her sobs grew louder with his words. After a few minutes, she sniffed and wiped at her nose. "I have to go," was all she could say after his admission that he couldn't produce his niece. There was nothing more to say and even if there were, it would be the wrong something. Enough to endanger the whole operation and everyone involved.

Patti Pollard stood tall and wiped the tears from her eyes and said to her brother, "Promise me that when you have something to say, you won't keep it to yourself." and she left without waiting for a response.

Captain Vanderson watched as his younger sister walked out of the office through the maze of desks, detectives, and uniforms. "I promise," he whispered to himself. "I won't let you down."

As he turned back to the conference room, he wiped at his shirt, knowing he wouldn't be able to wipe the tear stains off as he walked back into the room.

*****

The distorted voice on the speakerphone was in the middle of giving instructions to some of the officers, Sally, and Michael Paul, though Paul seemed a little annoyed that he had to even be there. Why couldn't the Captain just give him a basic rundown and let him run with the plan. It worked before. Why couldn't' he just give him more lenience, like when he got his deep cover assignments. And the fact that he overheard his girlfriend's mother tell the captain that she thought she was dead, but no one has found her body yet. He knew he'd done Jeannie terribly wrong, and he knew she'd never forgive him if they ever met again, but he also knew if Steele found her first, she'd die for the last time.

The meeting went on for ten or fifteen minutes longer and when the captain and the voice on the phone excused everyone and they left, Paul lingered behind, to wait for the captain to finish his conversation with the voice.

"What can I help you with, Paul?" Captain Vanderson asked.

"Michael Paul is still in the room?"

"Yes, sir." Paul said. "Who are you, really?"

"Truthfully, not even the captain knows, but for your sake, Mr. Paul, you may call me...Marcus."

The weight of his sentence lingered in the air as Michael Paul rolled it around in his head. Someone somewhere knew more than they should.