James PATTERSON - The Big Bad Wolf

Katz turned on the headlights, and we pulled up to a street corner. Then we waited for Taylor to pass. His Toyota 4-Runner appeared a moment later.

‘He’s going out toward I-89,’ she reported in. ‘Proceeding at about forty-five, keeping within the speed limit, which makes him suspicious in my book. Maybe headed to his farm in Webster. Kind of late for picking tomatoes, though.’

‘We’ll have Nielsen precede him on I-89. You stay behind. Michelle and I will be right with you,’ said Powiesnik.

That sounded familiar to me, and apparently to Agent Katz since she muttered ‘right’ as soon as she signed off.

Once he exited off 89, Taylor made turns on a couple of narrow side roads. He was doing close to sixty.

‘Seems to be in a little more of a hurry now,’ Peggy said.

Then Taylor’s Toyota veered off on to a drive that appeared to be dirt. We had to stay back or be spotted. Fog lay low over the farmlands, and we proceeded slowly until we could safely park on the side of the road. The other FBI cars hadn’t arrived yet, at least we didn’t see any of them. We got out of our sedan and headed back into the woods.

Then we could see Taylor’s Toyota parked in front of a shadowy farmhouse. A light eventually blinked on inside the house, then another light. Agent Katz was quiet and I wondered if she’d been involved in anything quite as heavy as this before. I didn’t think that she had.

‘We can see Taylor’s Toyota at the house,’ she reported in to Powiesnik.

Then she turned to me. ‘So now what?’ she asked in a whisper.

‘It’s not up to us,’ I said.

‘If it was?’

‘I’d move in closer on foot. I want to see if that missing kid from Holy Cross is there. We don’t know how much danger he’s in.’

Powiesnik contacted us again. ‘We’re going to take a look. You and Agent Cross stay where you are. Watch our backs.’

Agent Katz turned to me and sniffed out a laugh. ‘Powiesnik means – watch our dust, doesn’t he?’

‘Or, eat our dust,’ I said.

‘Or suck hind tit,’ grumped Katz. Maybe she hadn’t seen any action before, but she apparently wanted some now. And I had a feeling Agent Katz might get her wish.

‘Over there, heading toward the barn,’ I said and pointed. ‘That’s Taylor. What’s he doing?’

‘Powiesnik is on the other side of the house. He probably can’t see that Taylor is outside,’ said Agent Katz.

‘Let’s see what he’s up to.’

Katz hesitated. ‘You’re not going to get me shot, are you?’

‘No,’ I said, a little too quickly. This was getting complicated suddenly. I wanted to follow Taylor, but I felt I had to watch out for Katz too.

‘Let’s go,’ Katz finally said, reaching a decision. ‘ Taylor is out of the house. He’s headed southwest ,’ she alerted Powiesnik. ‘ We’re following .’

The two of us hurried forward for a hundred yards or so. We had some ground to make up, and we wanted to keep Taylor in sight. There was a half-moon overhead and that helped, but it was also possible that Taylor might see us coming. We could lose him easily now, especially if he was suspicious.

He didn’t seem to be aware of anything going on around him – at least not so far. Which got me thinking that he was used to sneaking around out here late at night. Not worrying about being seen by anyone. This was his private reserve, wasn’t it? I watched him go inside the barn.

‘We should call in again,’ Katz said.

I didn’t disagree completely, but I was nervous about the other agents coming up fast and making noise. How many of them had experience in the field?

‘You better call in,’ I finally agreed.

It took the other agents a couple of minutes to get to the edge of the woods where we were crouched behind tall brush. Light from inside the barn shone through cracks and holes in the weatherboarding. We couldn’t see or hear much from where we were hiding. Finally we could make out Potter crossing the service court and entering the great door of the barn.

Then music blasted from somewhere in the barn. I recognized a choral arrangement by Queen. A sexy lyric about riding a bicycle. Totally whacked at this time of night, playing in the middle of nowhere.

‘There’s no evidence of violence in his past,’ Powiesnik said as he came up and crouched beside me.

‘Or kidnapping either,’ I said. ‘But he might have somebody in that barn. Maybe the kid from Holy Cross. Taylor knew about the Wolf’s Den, even the eye scan. I doubt he’s an innocent bystander.’

‘We’re moving on Taylor,’ the senior agent ordered. ‘He may be armed,’ he told the other agents. ‘Proceed as if he is.’

He assigned two teams to surveil the far side of the barn in case Taylor tried to get out some other way. Powiesnik and Nielsen, along with Agent Katz and myself, were going in the great door that Taylor had entered.

I moved up alongside Powiesnik. ‘You okay with this? Going in after him now?’

‘It’s already been decided,’ he said in a tight voice.

So I moved forward, wearing a dark blue windbreaker with FBI printed on the back. Queen continued to play loudly in the barn. ‘ I want to ride my bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle !’ This was a strange feeling, all of it. The Bureau had excellent resources for getting information; their personnel were certainly booksmart and well trained, but, in the past, I’d always known and trusted only those I went into a dangerous crime scene with.

The wooden barn door hadn’t been latched or locked by Taylor. We could see that as we crouched in tall brush a few yards away.

Suddenly the music stopped.

Then I heard loud voices inside. More than one . But I couldn’t make out what was being said, or who was doing the talking.

‘We should take him down. Now ,’ I whispered to Powiesnik. ‘We’re already committed. We have to go.’

‘Don’t tell me–’

‘I’m telling you,’ I said.

I wanted to take over from Powiesnik. He was hesitating much too long. Once we had moved close to the barn, we shouldn’t have stopped.

‘I’ll go first. Come in behind me,’ I finally said.

Powiesnik didn’t overrule me, didn’t argue. No one else in the group spoke a word.

I ran very quickly toward the barn, my gun out of my holster. I was there in seconds. The door made a heavy creaking sound when I pulled it open. Bright light escaped outside, splintered into my eyes for a second. ‘ FBI! ’ I yelled at the top of my voice. FBI! Jesus!

Taylor looked at me and his eyes filled with surprise, fear. I had a clear shot at him. He’d had no idea he was being followed. He’d been operating in his own private safety zone, hadn’t he? I could see that now.

I could also make out someone else illuminated in the shadows of the barn. He was tied with leather bindings to a wooden post that hung from a beam in the hayloft. He had no clothes on. Nothing. His chest and genitals were bloodied. But Francis Deegan was alive!

‘You’re under arrest… Mr Potter.’

The first interview with Potter took place in the small library he’d built in the farmhouse. It was cozy and tastefully furnished, and gave no hint of the horrible acts going on elsewhere on the property. Potter sat on a dark wood bench with his wrists handcuffed in front of him. His dark eyes boiled over in anger directed at me.

I sat in a straight-backed chair directly across from him. For a long moment we glared at each other, then I let my eyes wander around the room. Bookcases and cabinets had been custom-built and covered every wall. A large oak desk held a computer and printer as well as wooden in/out boxes and stacks of ungraded papers. A green wooden sign behind the desk read: ‘Bless This Mess.’ There was no hint of the real Taylor, or ‘Potter’, anywhere.