The Face of Fear: A Powers and Johnson Novel by R.J. Torbert Read Free Book Online Page A

in the next room. “Let’s get the guys together and get a plan on what we’re going to do on the 19 th .”
    Paul arrived at the precinct and immediately went into Detective Lieutenant Cronin’s office. “Where’s Bud?” Cronin asked before Paul even shut the door.
    “Not sure. We said goodbye in Port Jefferson this afternoon. We have the late shift all next week.”
    “What cases are you working on?” Cronin replied.
    “No murders in the past 32 days, so we’ve been working on a couple of cold cases from 2004 and 2006.”
    “Keep me posted. I may have you and Bud help out on a couple of robbery crimes if they need it within the week.”
    “What about the Lance kidnapping?” Paul replied.
    “What about it?” Cronin replied.
    “The FBI is going nowhere and...”
    “And what ?” Cronin interrupted him. “Paul, you are a good cop, but stay away before you get all of us in trouble. She’s in Connecticut, across state lines, and there has been no murder.”
    “How do we know there is no murder?” Paul shot back.
    “Dismissed,” Cronin replied. Paul just stood there until Cronin looked up at him with a look as if to say “What are you still doing here?”
    As Paul opened the door to leave, he said, “She’s in Port Jefferson, not Connecticut,” then shut the door just in time because Detective Lieutenant Cronin jumped out of his seat and was at the door within seconds.
    He yelled in the squad room for everyone to hear. “Get your smart ass back in my office now!” Paul stared at him, dropped his papers, and slowly walked back to his office. “Shut the door!” Cronin bellowed. “Explain yourself before I send you home for good.”
    “Detective Lieutenant,” Paul replied, “she is in Port Jefferson, somewhere.”
    “Do you have proof?” Cronin replied.
    “No, but I will very soon.”
    “What are you doing?” Cronin replied. “No, wait, I don’t want to know. Are you breaking any laws?”
    “No,” Paul replied. “Give me one week, I will prove within seven days the kidnappers are from this area. Everything went down too smoothly. Just give me a week.” Cronin stared at him and gave him his famous stern look that no one liked to see.
    “Paul, you have one week. Keep Bud in the loop, and make sure you keep him around for backup. Most important, stay away from the FBI.”
    “Yes, sir.” Paul replied.
    “Dismissed again,” Cronin replied. “And this time, no remarks when you’re walking through my door. Go home, enjoy tomorrow. You have a long week ahead of you.”

Sunday, June 12
    S even Days Until Ransom Due
    Rachelle sat down at her computer Sunday morning and wrote about the theory of the Lance kidnapping. The headline read “The Port Jefferson Kidnapping—Local Police Detective’s Theory.” She wrote about Paul’s theory on how they kidnapped Debbie and how they got away with it. She wrote about how the Cross Island Ferry never checked vehicles getting on or off the boat and never checked bags from pedestrians walking on or off, not to mention metal detectors for guns and bombs.
    She wrote how Debbie Lance drove onto the ferry, was most likely thrown into a trunk of another car, and another person drove her car off the boat and left it on the side of the road in Connecticut. Whoever kidnapped her, paid for her vehicle in cash, allowing anyone to drive it off the boat. With no reservation, there were no names, and there would not be proof if her father had not witnessed her car loading on the ferry. All they cared about was that the number of vehicles on the boat matched the number of tickets sold on the boat. Rachelle criticized the security of the ferry to the extent that she demanded that security cameras and a security system be put in place to avoid this kind of event from happening again. The ferry had what looked like cameras on the boat, but no video was recorded the day Deborah disappeared. She continued writing to tell her readers she would be on the boat Saturday