Tough Justice: Countdown Box Set Page 37

  “When do you think he’ll be ready for questioning?” Nick asked.

  “He’s stable now,” the woman said. “But we’ve got to get him to the hospital. Doctors are the only ones who can clear him for questioning.”

  Nothing they didn’t already know, but it was still hard not to begin questioning Benjamin right away. Nick didn’t want to get all melodramatic, but Johnson was their only hope.

  And looking at him right now on the gurney—breathing oxygen through the mask, eyes tightly shut—he didn’t seem fit to answer his own name, much less questions about the appearance of the man who took him.

  But then Johnson opened his eyes and reached over past the paramedic to grab Lara’s arm, pulling her toward him with surprising strength. He waved her closer to him with his other hand.

  “Careful, Lara,” Nick muttered, hand on his sidearm.

  “What’s he going to do? I’m pretty sure I can take him on his best day. I definitely can with him like this.”

  Nick refrained from rolling his eyes—barely—as Lara leaned in closer. The woman desperately needed to learn that just because she could do something, didn’t mean that she should.

  “What?” she asked Benjamin.

  Nick could see she felt bad for what Johnson had been through. Looking at the man twitching every few seconds, pale and sweating, you’d have to be inhuman not to feel a little bad for the guy.

  But it only took a few seconds of remembering him taking selfies in front of scenes were dozens of people had died, posting them publicly on social media sites with the express purpose of having the loved ones of victims view them...

  Sympathy died a pretty quick death.

  “I saw him.” Benjamin’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “The guy who took me. I can identify him. That bastard’s face has been the only thing I’ve kept in my mind for two days. He said he wanted his face to be the last thing I saw before I died.”

  Lara’s eyes flew to Nick’s. Another break. One they desperately needed.

  “Okay, we’ll meet you in the hospital,” Lara said, reaching out to touch the man then stopping as if she wasn’t sure how to show solidarity. “We can have a sketch artist meet with you.”

  Johnson nodded, rubbing his eyes and covering most of his face with his hand. The paramedics wheeled him out.

  “This is it, Nick. Finally, a break. The bomber thought Johnson would die here.”

  “Rightfully so, since he was within a couple of seconds of that happening.”

  Lara nodded and they walked carefully down the questionable stairs of the old warehouse along the Hudson. “The Whisperer didn’t expect Johnson to be able to describe him. And it sounds like a good recollection.”

  Witnesses—particularly ones in the middle of a traumatic event—weren’t always the most reliable. Sometimes kidnapping victims were too busy thinking about death and how to survive to really pay attention to the features of their captives. Didn’t sound like that was the case with Johnson.

  “I hope so. Cara was pretty shaken over Dan’s murder at the convenience store, but I’m betting she’ll leap at this chance to work with Johnson to catch the perp.”

  “With the files Christina was following up with after ruling out the name Michael, I’m going to have her send over anyone with an M name since Dylan McCann is almost positive that was the guy’s name. Maybe we’ll get lucky there.”

  “A positive ID beats a sketch artist drawing any day.”

  “We’re going to nail this bastard, Nick. I can feel it.”

  Nick stepped a little closer, as they walked, happy when she didn’t shift to put distance between them. God, this was when he remembered why he was so damned attracted to Lara. When she was excited to be part of the team and ready to move in for the kill. Her confidence. Her passion. Her zeal. It made her a great agent and made her damn well irresistible to him.

  He wished he could make her see it in herself. How great they all were together as a team. Maybe that only applied to them as a working team, nothing personal?

  As they got into the car Lara smiled over the roof of it at him. Nick couldn’t help but smile back. The next time he had her in his bed he was going to damn well make sure she didn’t sneak out in the middle of the night.

  “Let’s go catch a bad guy.”

  * * *

  They had to wait more than two hours at the hospital before they could talk to Johnson. He suffered from severe dehydration and disorientation, and would be forced to wear sunglasses for the next few days due to the damage done by the constant strobe lighting.

  The first thing that flew through Nick’s mind when he saw Johnson propped in his hospital bed wearing sunglasses was that Johnson now looked like the photos they had of the Whisperer. Lara saw it, too. She had an eyebrow raised as she glanced over at Nick.

  He was sure the bomber would just love that. The fact that Johnson was forced to look just like him as he recovered.

  Of course, he probably wouldn’t like the fact that Johnson could identify him.

  Christina had sent over all the pictures from BrainWave rejects and the hospital had printed them out for them since the doctor said looking at paper would be gentler on Johnson’s damaged eyes than looking at a screen. They would start with the Ms, then move on to everyone if they had to.

  Nick hoped it didn’t come to that. Looking at face after face became taxing on someone’s best day. It most definitely wasn’t Johnson’s best.

  “How are you feeling?” Lara asked Johnson.

  “Like some jackass kept me tied to a chair and had flashes going off at me every half a second,” he sneered. “Took you guys long enough to find me. The doc says I might have permanent damage to my retinas.”

  Evidently Johnson had gotten over his thankfulness that he had lived through the ordeal and now was just sullen and pissy.

  “I guess the guy who took you thought you liked flashes because of all those damn selfies at the bomb scenes,” Lara shot back.

  Nick was tempted to let Lara go off on the guy as much as she obviously wanted to, but they had more important things to do.

  “Let’s identify the guy who took you so we can catch him.” Nick touched Lara’s arm to get her to stop. “Do you feel up to looking through some pictures?”

  “Yeah. I want to make sure that bastard pays for what he did.”

  They showed him the pictures of the rejected BrainWave applicants beginning with Michael names first. Ben didn’t recognize any of them right off the bat so they showed them again more slowly. Both he and Lara were hoping the second time would cause a flair of recognition.

  Nothing.

  And Johnson was already starting to get agitated from just a dozen pictures. What would looking through nearly 650 do to him? They’d only printed the ones that had something to do with Michael, for all the others Benjamin would have to look at a screen. That would deteriorate the situation even more.

  Lara looked over at Nick and whispered, “Let’s show him the Mitchells and Martins, hell, any name that begins with M. Maybe McCann got it wrong.”

  Nick nodded. “Okay, then I guess we start at the beginning.”

  Her lips pursed. “Let’s hope not.”

  When showing Benjamin the pictures on their smartphones was too painful for him with his damaged eyes, they borrowed a laptop from the hospital staff.

  They were twelve pictures in of the twenty-one of people whose name started with M when Benjamin stopped them.

  “Him. That’s him.” A man, younger than Nick would’ve thought, maybe around twenty years old. Brown hair cut short, eyes too small for his otherwise plain face. Lips pinched in the photo.

  “Are you sure?” Lara asked.

  “Without a doubt. I am going to be seeing that bastard’s face in my nightmares for a long tim
e.”

  Nick caught Lara’s eye and they nodded at each other.

  Mitchell Halpert.

  Nick immediately brought up his basic information.

  “Twenty-one years old. Applied to work at BrainWave two years ago. By their own admission, Halpert seemed to be a genius, but for whatever reason they hadn’t felt like he’d be able to work well with others.”

  Lara came over to stand by Nick. “Young, clean-cut, average-looking guy. Not the type you would think would kill over one hundred people. Why is it that the most crazy also look the most normal?”

  He nodded. “We’ve got his address. Westchester County. I’m calling the team and having them meet us out there.”

  “Get someone to run this past McCann just to cover our bases. We also need to get a protective detail on Benjamin. This Mitchell Halpert guy has to know his plan to kill him didn’t work by now. He might decide to take his revenge or make sure Benjamin’s not around to testify.”

  Nick nodded. It definitely wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

  “Let’s get that done then get out there. I want to catch this guy, Nick. Bad. For James. For Victoria.”

  “As soon as the warrant comes through, I’ll have the team move in without the local cops so we’re sure not to spook him.”

  “Smart.” Lara was already taking out her phone to make her part of the calls. Having both of them able to handle administrative stuff helped. They made a good team.

  She punched in a number then waited as she was connected to the people who would get Benjamin’s protective detail started.

  “He’s hit us hard,” she said. “It’s time to hit back.”

  Chapter Two

  Although Lara had agreed with Nick not to have the local police rush in sirens blaring, they did ask the Westchester Police Department to send a car to observe the house.

  Lara wanted eyes on Mitchell Halpert’s house as soon as possible. If he tried to bail they could at least bring him in for questioning.

  But there had been no movement in or out of the house when Nick and Lara arrived an hour later, meeting the rest of the CMU team there. Everyone had on their Kevlar as they approached the door.

  Nick, Jennifer and Ty all had their weapons drawn and were braced on either side of Lara. James and Xander, along with the uniformed locals, provided more backup in the yard.

  “According to our info, this house belongs to Brenda Halpert, but it’s also Halpert’s listed address,” Nick said to the team. “Stay frosty, everybody. Bombs might be Halpert’s weapon of choice, but that doesn’t mean he won’t attempt to kill someone just as quickly with a gun.”

  Lara nodded. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  She knocked briskly on the door. When a few seconds went by with no answer, she rang the doorbell and knocked again.

  Finally the door cracked open. A woman, midfifties, brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, stuck her face up to the opening.

  “I ain’t interested in buying anything.”

  Lara stuck her foot in the door before the woman could slam it. “Are you Brenda Halpert?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Mrs. Halpert, I’m Special Agent Lara Grant with the FBI.” Lara got out her credentials and showed them to her. “We have a warrant to search your house.”

  Lara brought her other hand up and held the warrant right in front of the woman’s face, her foot still firmly in place to keep the door open. “This is the warrant, Mrs. Halpert, giving us access to search your house and property. You’re welcome to read it.”

  The older woman didn’t even touch it, much less read it. Lara was always amazed at what people would just trust that someone was telling the truth.

  “Fine,” Mrs. Halpert said with a huff, stepping backward.

  “Is anyone else in the house but you, ma’am?” Nick asked from over Lara’s shoulder.

  “No,” the woman responded, looking at the ground.

  It was difficult to tell if that meant she was lying or if she was just uncomfortable by the armed agents surrounding her.

  “Could you step outside for a minute?” Lara wanted the woman out of the way as they moved around.

  Mrs. Halpert didn’t look excited at the thought, but did what she was asked and stepped out onto the porch.

  “Watch her,” Lara told two of the uniformed Westchester police standing in the yard after she escorted Mrs. Halpert down the stairs. The woman looked offended but Lara didn’t care. The officers nodded.

  “I’m going around back,” James said from the yard.

  Lara nodded. “Xander, go with him.”

  Lara hustled back up the porch stairs to Nick, Ty and Jennifer.

  “We sweep first then will look for any evidence. I don’t trust the bomber and I don’t trust mommy-of-bomber either,” Nick said as Lara pulled out her own weapon.

  The four of them moved into the house, Nick taking the lead as Lara, Ty and Jennifer searched the corners, blind spots and behind any furniture where someone might be hiding. They did the same for the adjoining kitchen.

  “Clear,” each called out as their section was secure.

  Nick kept his weapon pointed down the hallway as Ty now passed him, taking the lead. When he got to an open bedroom door he waited as Jennifer caught up with him, communicated briefly with their hands, then entered together, both aiming their weapons at different sides of the room.

  Nick and Lara waited in the hallway, each facing a different direction. Lara’s GLOCK felt solid in her hands as she kept it at shoulder height in front of her, ready for anything that might pounce out. Like Nick had said, they didn’t trust the bomber or his mother. When they received the clear signal from Ty and Jennifer, they continued the pattern through the rest of the hall, past a junk room with a ton of boxes, finally coming to the last bedroom door.

  The only one closed.

  Ty reached for it, but Nick stopped him.

  “This is probably Halpert’s room,” he said. The other’s agreed. He looked over at Lara. “Only door that’s closed? I think we should let the bomb squad check it out first.”

  Lara wanted inside that room almost as much as she wanted her next breath. But she didn’t want to lose her life or risk the team when a little bit of patience could save them all.

  “You’re right,” Lara replied. “He may have rigged it to blow just in case of a situation like this.”

  Ty grimaced. “As much as I want to get in there right damn now, I’ve got to agree. We know this guy is smart enough and ruthless enough to do something like that.”

  “And you can bet he’s not going to come in here and tell one of us there’s a Taylor Swift concert outside,” Jennifer stated.

  Lara raised an eyebrow. “Taylor Swift?”

  “Don’t be a hater. I’ll be forced to start singing.” Jennifer began to ease back, as did everyone else. For a split second, Lara allowed herself to be thankful that their conversation in her apartment hadn’t affected their working relationship. On the outside at least.

  “Everybody okay in there?” James called from the back door.

  “Yes,” Lara responded. “We’re pulling back. Want the bomb squad to check this door and room before we proceed.”

  “Smart.”

  Sitting out waiting for the bomb squad to arrive was torturous for everyone. Mrs. Halpert kept wanting to go back inside to get her cell phone, but there was no way in hell they were going to allow that. Lara had no doubt she’d try to notify her son that the FBI was camped on their lawn.

  The woman became hysterical when the bomb squad arrived. She didn’t want them inside the house. She seemed more comfortable talking to the uniformed officers than anyone on the CMU team, so those poor guys were getting an earful.

  La
ra walked over to Nick. “What do we know about her?” She hooked her thumb toward the woman currently yelling about the possibility that her carpet might get stained by the bomb department robot being sent through the door.

  Nick flipped open the file on his tablet. “Brenda Halpert. Fifty-two years old. No criminal record. Works nights at Westchester General Hospital as part of the janitorial staff. Been there for five years. Widowed for the past eight years.”

  Lara looked out at the house. It was small, three bedrooms, nothing fancy. Nothing on the inside suggested anything different than the report Nick had read.

  “Somebody is going to have to pay for the repairs if that thing scratches my walls!” Brenda yelled as she watched the bomb team direct the robot.

  “I’m going to talk to her. See if I can get anything while she’s a little distracted.”

  Nick nodded. “I’ll hang back so it doesn’t seem like we’re ganging up on her.”

  “All right. I’ll let you know if I need you for good cop/bad cop.”

  The woman was actually wringing her hands as she watched her house. Lara came at her wide from the side so the woman wouldn’t feel like someone was sneaking up on her.

  “The bomb unit is very good at their job,” Lara told Brenda in her most soothing voice. “I’m sure they won’t have any problem directing the robot down the hallway without scratching you walls.”

  “They better not.”

  “Is something bad going to happen when the robot opens the door, Brenda? Did Mitchell do something to the door?”

  “Why would Mitchell do something to the door?” The woman looked legitimately perplexed.

  Lara decided to try a different route. Maybe the mom didn’t know anything about the bombings.

  One would think you couldn’t live with someone who’d killed dozens of people without having some sort of awareness.

  Then Lara thought of Moretti. She knew from personal experience that evil people could often be the most inviting. The most normal. The most seductive.