Crime, Thrillers & Mystery / Don't Answer The Door

    Doctor Katherine Seton was walking out of her office in the Federal Bureau of Investigation building when her partner Henry Fielding came sprinting up to her.
   “Kathy, we’ve got a case. The rest of the team is on the jet waiting to be briefed. Grab your extra clothes and let’s go.”
    Kathy popped open the trunk of her car and grabbed her suitcase. Turning around to Fielding, she sighed, “I suppose this means that you have your clothes on the jet already?” At his mischievous smile, she shook her head, “Forget I asked. Let’s go. I am sure Gifford is more than ready to leave by now.”

                   * * * *

    “…So we know that our UNSUB is very violent. He used to kill once every two weeks, but his last killing wasn’t even a week later. His murders are becoming closer in range. This is going to take its toll on the community. The Houston PD has asked us to keep it on a lower profile. They don’t want the city in an uproar; three million people in a panic would be more dangerous than our UNSUB. The last family he has targeted is the Smith family. The victim was Abigail Smith. She was a wife and mother of two. Her husband said that he was only out to the corner store when she was killed. He doesn’t know how our UNSUB gained entry to the house. We think that he came in under the guise of being a service worker; perhaps a cable guy or a city worker.”
    “Then our UNSUB is clever. He has a way with people,” Kathy thought aloud, “which means that we are going to need to find him and fast. His killing more recently means that, for whatever reason, he has become desperate. His desperation spells out disaster for the neighborhood.”
    Turning to the computer tech, Michael Kelly, she said, “We are going to have to tap into any surveillance that neighborhood has.” Kelly nodded. Kathy then turned to Fielding, “We are also going to need an agent on patrol.”
    Fielding nodded, “Right. And I am looking for what exactly?”
    “You are looking for a forty-three year old male. He is also balding. Neighbors say that he might drive a powder blue ’89 Cadillac. We are also looking for a man who obsesses. He will sit out in front of a house unnoticed. He has the capability to blend in with the scenery; this is the trait that will be most dangerous.”
    Fielding nodded. Kathy then turned to her boss, “Is there anything else?”
    Gifford smiled, “No Kathy. I think that you have it all covered.”

                     * * * *

    “Welcome to Houston. I am glad that you have come to help. We are a bit over our heads here. We deal with murders every day, but nothing of this caliber. I am Officer Madeline Willson. I would be happy to do anything you need me to.”
    “Thank you Officer Willson,” Gifford said, “We would appreciate all the help we can muster. Now I think that my team had better get to work.”
    “Of course; as I said, feel free to ask for anything.”
    “I am sure we will,” Kathy put in reassuringly. “Kelly, you get to work on what we talked about in the plane. Fielding and me will go and patrol the neighborhood. Call me if you find anything.”
    Fielding and Kathy left and went to the neighborhood. Upon arriving, they thought they should talk to the family of the victim. They parked in the drive way of a modest looking house. It was the typical suburban house. They hedges were perfectly trimmed, the grass an even two inches over the smallish yard. There were toys in the front yard suggesting children lived in the house. Taking a deep breath, Kathy stepped out of the car, followed by Fielding.
    “I hope you know I hate this part of my job, Kathy.”
    “I am sure you do. After five years of this, I am still not all that comfortable with it myself. If you want I will ask all the questions. You don’t have to do anything accept stand there and look handsome.”
    “I don’t know how you do it Kathy.” Fielding reached out a hand to knock on the door. Before he could even touch the door, he heard the tell tale click of the hammer of a shotgun. Whispering fiercely to Kathy, he said, “DON’T. MOVE.”
     “I might be daft, but I am not STUPID!” she hissed back.
    “Who’s there and what do you want?” asked an irate voice from inside the house.
    Kathy was the first to speak, “I am Doctor Katherine Seton. I am with the FBI. We are here to ask a few questions about your wife’s death. Please, sir, put away the gun so we can speak.”
    The hammer was let up with a sweet, sweet noise, and the door opened. A middle aged man opened the door. “Please come in. I am sorry, but I can’t be too careful anymore.”
    Fielding was the first to answer, “Don’t worry. I can’t imagine what it is like to have to defend your family like that. Henry Fielding.” He held out his hand and the man took it.
    “Adam Smith. It is surely not something I relish doing. Thank you for coming. Now, what is it you need to know?”
    “Our file says that you stepped out to go get milk at the local corner store when this happened. Was there anything strange before you left?”
    “No…yes. There was now that I think about it. There was an odd car outside the house. It was a powder blue car. Not one you see around much anymore. I didn’t think anything of it. I just thought it was some one the neighbors had invited over. But I did notice he was eyeing the house intently. I waved and got into the car. Like I said, I had no idea that he might be a killer.”
    “So when you found her you called the police directly, is that right?”
    “Yes. I have two girls; one thirteen and one six. I couldn’t just leave their mother there. I had to call someone.” Adam began to choke up, “The girls are with their grandmother in Huntsville at the moment. I thought it best to keep them far away for right now.”
     “Very wise Mr. Smith; now I think that me and my partner better leave and let you alone. I am sorry we had to disturb you.”
    “Don’t think anything of it. It wasn’t disturbing me if you are going to catch the scum that did this to my Abby.”
    This time it was Fielding to speak, “We will do all that is in our power to lock him away for good.”
    With that they left the house. Once in the car, Katherine sighed, “I hate that part. But it is over with. Now let us go and get on with whatever it is that we have to do.”
    As they pulled out of the drive, they saw a powder blue Cadillac parked in front of the opposite house. Fielding swore under his breath. “Is it going to be too much to ask that you stay in the car?”
    Kathy nodded, “I won’t lie.”
    Swearing again, Fielding parked the car and hopped out, “Then at least follow my orders and stay out of the line of fire.” Katherine nodded. Men were prone to these fits of control; she might as well go with it.
    Gun drawn, Henry edged his way into the open house. Finger to his lips, he looked at Kathy, who nodded. He moved on; slowly creeping down the long entry hallway. The hallway let into a large living room. In the living room was a scene that boiled Henry’s blood and simultaneously froze it.
    There was a sobbing woman tied to a dining chair, gagged. Their perpetrator stood with a gun aimed at her head. He was currently on a tirade about how unfaithful women were. How unfair they were to live with. Henry turned to Kathy and shoved her into a coat closet, closing the door. Knowing that Kathy would be safe and quite he moved on.
    Gun trained on the killer, Henry spoke, “Now, I don’t think it would be a good idea to kill her now.”
    The man looked up, moving his aim to a spot on the wall about three feet above the woman’s head. Gauging the distance quickly, he ran full speed and tackled the man. The gun fired into the ceiling. Fielding heard a scream come from the closet and a thump as Kathy kicked her way out of the medium sized coat closet.
    Knowing Kathy was behind him, he grunted, “Untie the woman. Then grab the hand cuffs out of my back pocket.”
    Kathy did both quickly and quietly, without argument. When all was done, the man handcuffed, and the woman untied, Kathy called Gifford to report their success. They quickly went back to the HPD headquarters with the killer.
   When they got out, police swarmed the car, taking the killer away. Henry got out of the car after Kathy, and turned to her and said, “Sorry about the closet thing. I needed you out of the way. He was lamenting on the worthlessness of women. I couldn’t let him turn his misplaced anger out on you. That would me more than I need to deal with.”
    Kathy smiled ruefully, “I suppose that I forgive you…as long as it doesn’t happen again.”
    Fielding, “Let’s pray that it doesn’t.”

                     * * * *

   On the jet going home, Gifford congratulated Henry and Kathy. Then he told them about the man.
    “He was a man by the name of Joseph Carling. He was on a tirade about women. It appears that he was recently divorced by his wife. She filed irreconcilable differences.”
    Henry muttered to Kathy, “I wouldn’t blame her. With a nut like that, I’d file too.”
    Kathy suppressed a grin. All was well, and they were back, safe and sound, to normal life and regular routine. Her being the mildly sane one, and Henry the loon.

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