What Have You Done Page 24

  The five steps that led to the porch gave without creaking as he climbed toward the entrance. He scanned the area for a final time, then walked to the edge of the porch and took the spare key from under a large potted plant. He opened the front door and slipped inside.

  The house seemed much more spacious on the inside when it was dark and empty. Liam stood in the hallway and, with the help of his flashlight, surveyed the living and dining rooms to his left. He rushed toward the kitchen at the end of the hall and turned toward the basement.

  Sean kept his gun-cleaning kit in an old file cabinet next to his workbench, adjacent to his tools and extra scraps of wood from past projects. The musty aroma of damp dirt and mold consumed Liam as he made his descent.

  The workbench and cabinet sat on the opposite side of the room. Liam walked over and pulled the plastic case that sat atop a pile of junk in the file cabinet’s second drawer. As he took it out, he recalled all the times he’d cleaned his own pistol with his brother at the very bench he now used to lay the case upon. He turned on a light that hung directly overhead and, with his heart racing, popped the two metal locks.

  The smell of gun oil hit him immediately as he leaned in closer to see what he’d been searching for. The evidence was there in all of its horrific glory.

  A used can of Olin oil sat capped but overflowing. The rod, brush, and cleaning pads were stained and hardened with dried residue. The interior of the case was slippery, the foam padding crushed and torn. In the midst of spilled oil and soiled instruments were several bags full of hair. Black, blonde, brown. Hair from all the victims. Kerri’s had to have been in there too.

  Liam closed the case and backed away from the workbench. He now knew the absolute truth. Sean had killed Kerri and the other women they’d found. There was no more doubt. His breath came in shallow waves, and he suddenly felt as if he’d run a marathon. He couldn’t steady himself, the room swaying from side to side, the floor buckling underneath his feet. He closed his eyes and leaned on the workbench, waiting for his dizziness to pass and his breathing to return to normal. He had known what he would find down there, yet seeing it, seeing the absolute truth, was too much for him. His older brother, the man who had been like a father to him, the man who had looked out for his well-being through all aspects of his life, the man who had literally saved his life, was a murderer and was framing him for the killings. Why?

  Lights filtered through the windows on the other end of the basement. Headlights from a car. Someone had pulled into Sean’s driveway.

  Liam put the case back in the cabinet and pulled the chain on the bulb above. He tried to see who had come, but the windows were at ground level, and he couldn’t get the right angle.

  Footsteps thumped above on the first floor.

  He froze in place, shut off his flashlight, and stood completely still. The footsteps were slow, deliberate. The floor above creaked as each step was taken. Whoever was in the house was in the hallway. Liam scurried toward the back of the basement and fell against the wall, waiting. The footsteps carried themselves into the kitchen and stopped. He held his breath, his eyes searching for another way out. Something was shuffling above him. He looked in the darkness for a place to hide or escape. There was a brief moment of silence above.

  Then the footsteps began to come down the stairs, into the basement.

  Liam moved quickly, feeling his way deeper into the blackness that had swallowed him. He couldn’t see where he was going. The footsteps were halfway down.

  He came upon a set of stairs that led up to hurricane doors and out into the yard. He climbed up, unlatched the lock as quietly as he could, and pushed the doors open.

  The fresh air hit his face and felt colder than before. With his peripheral vision, he could see a red flashing light. As soon as he hopped from the basement, he heard the footsteps running across the basement, up the stairs, and through the hurricane doors he’d just emerged from. He was tackled from behind and slammed violently to the ground, his face pushed into the grass, almost smothering him. He tried to fight back, but whoever was on top of him had more leverage. A strong hand kept his head from poking up from the ground. For a brief moment, he was six years old in his bathroom, his mother on top of him, pinning him down.

  We’re going to visit your father.

  “Stay still, you son of a bitch,” Lieutenant Phillips commanded. “You’re under arrest.”

  Liam quickly pulled his arms underneath him and spun around, knocking Phillips off of him so he could climb to his feet. As soon as he was up, Phillips was on him, tackling him at the waist and thrusting him back to the ground. Liam hit with a thud that knocked the wind out of him, and he ducked away from a flying right hand. He countered with a jab as hard as he could to the lieutenant’s stomach, knocking him backward. Liam leapt on top of Phillips and pinned his arms down with his knees, panting and wheezing, his hands working frantically until he found what he was looking for and came away with the lieutenant’s gun. He got back to his feet and stood over him.

  “Take out your cuffs,” he commanded.

  Phillips remained on the ground. “Liam, it’s over. No matter what you do to me, they’re going to catch you. You’re making things so much worse for yourself. Let me take you in. I’ll do it the right way. I’ll take care of you.”

  “Take out your cuffs!”

  Phillips reached behind him and came away with his pair of handcuffs. The chrome glistened in the moonlight.

  “Go cuff yourself to the handle of the basement doors.”

  “Liam—”

  “Do it!”

  Phillips crawled back toward the hurricane doors they had both just come up through. He laced one cuff through one of the steel handles and the other cuff around his wrist. When he was secure, the lieutenant raised his free hand to show he was done.

  “Take out your phone and your radio and your keys. Toss them over.”

  Phillips did as he was instructed. Liam picked up the items and threw them farther across the yard.

  “Lieutenant, I know you don’t believe me, but I didn’t do anything, and I didn’t kill anyone. Sean did.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I need a head start, so I have to leave you cuffed for now. But when you get free, all the evidence you need is in that basement. Sean is the killer. I can’t believe I’m saying that out loud. He’s trying to frame me.”

  “Why would he be framing you?”

  “He’s having an affair with Vanessa. All I can guess is he wants me out of the picture so he can have her to himself. He’s killed other women too.”

  Phillips struggled in the cuffs. “How do I know you didn’t plant whatever’s down there and you’re framing Sean? That this affair isn’t just a lie to throw us off?”

  “Because Don will tell you the truth. He found more evidence than I could. Don knows Sean’s the killer.”

  Phillips was silent. Liam could see his mind processing all of this new information.

  “I’m going to Don’s now,” Liam continued. “I’ll call you later, and you can bring me in, and we’ll tell you everything we know, but I want Don with me. He’s my insurance. In the meantime, I suggest you get a BOLO out for my brother. I have a feeling this could get worse.”

  Phillips raised his hand that was fastened to the door. “I can’t do anything like this!”

  “Like I said, I need a head start. Give it some time, and then start calling out for help. Someone will come. Your phone and radio are by the bushes there. Keys too. I’ll call you later. We’ll tell you everything.”

  Phillips said something else, but Liam didn’t hear. He ran from his brother’s house toward the subway station that would bring him back to South Philadelphia and then on to Don’s house. This would end tonight. It no longer mattered if they had enough evidence for a conviction. If he and Don let things go any longer, more lives would be lost. It was time to end this. One way or another.

  He took Kerri’s phone out of his pocket
and dialed Vanessa’s number.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  “Liam!”

  “Don’t talk. Just listen. I know about you and Sean, and I don’t care right now. I’m heading to Don’s house, and then he and I are going into the station. I need to tell you what’s been going on.” He rubbed a hand through his hair and kept running as he barked into the phone. “It’s about Sean. He’s not who you think he is.”

  59

  Joyce placed her hand over her heart as she stepped back from the door. A look of concern washed over her immediately. “Sean,” she said. “It’s late. Where’s Don? Is everything okay?”

  It took every ounce of strength Sean had to force a smile. He nodded slowly, ensuring every action was one of confidence and normalcy. It felt as though he were in a dream, detached from himself. The scenes and people he interacted with no longer felt real. His entire world had become a fantasy, but at the same time, he was aware that every moment of it was real. His head throbbed, and his eyes floated in and out of focus.

  “Sean?” Joyce said again. The urgency in her voice was palpable. “Talk to me.”

  Sean quickly refocused. “Sorry. No, everything’s fine. I know it’s late to come knocking like this. Don’s back at the station. He called me when I was out getting us coffee and asked me to swing by to pick up a disk he had for Liam’s case. We think we might have a lead on where he is.”

  Joyce exhaled a sigh of relief and ushered him in, closing the door behind them both. “I’ve been following the news,” she said. “Oh, that footage of Liam driving your boat up the river was too much. I hope you find him soon. That boy needs help. Running ain’t gonna solve anything. We need to get him in and get him help. I spoke to Vanessa this morning. She’s in pieces.”

  Sean made his way down the corridor toward the kitchen. He stuffed his hands in his pockets so Joyce wouldn’t see them shaking. His eyes burned from crying, his throat raw. “I know. I talked to her too. We think we’re close.”

  “I pray you’re right. Pray every day.” Joyce walked into the kitchen and grabbed a teapot from the sink. She turned the water on and began to wash it out.

  Sean came up behind her and leaned against the refrigerator, watching in silence. He noticed a picture of Don holding a supersized flounder on one of the doors and plucked it from its magnet. “I remember this day,” he said. “I took this picture.”

  “I know.”

  “We booked a charter off Point Pleasant. It was a birthday gift. I didn’t think we’d catch anything. Spent most of the day drinking, but nothing was biting. Not even a nibble. Captain was just about to turn around and head in when Don gets this thing on his line. Took us like a half hour to reel it in. Ends up catching a record breaker. It was unbelievable. That was a good day.”

  “Every day is a good day with my husband.”

  “You got that right.”

  Joyce put the pot on the stove. “You want some tea?”

  “No. I’m just gonna grab what I need and get out of your hair. Let you get back to sleep.”

  “You sure you’re okay? You don’t look so hot.”

  Again, Sean forced a smile and choked down the scream that wanted to escape. “Yeah. Just this Liam stuff has me all messed up. I need to find him. And we all need to understand what happened.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  There were a few beats of silence before Sean held up the picture. “You mind if I keep this?”

  “It’s yours if you want it. Don has a blown-up version on his desk upstairs.”

  Sean folded the picture and slipped it into his back pocket. He took out his phone and found a stock image of a flash drive. “Speaking of Don’s desk upstairs,” he said. “Any chance you’ve seen something like this laying around?”

  Joyce looked at the picture on the screen and shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen anything like that, but then again, I haven’t been looking. Don didn’t tell you where to get it?”

  “No. He just said it was at the house.”

  “Probably in his office. Why don’t you call him?”

  “He turned his phone off. He’s conducting witness interviews for possible sightings, and we’re not allowed to have our phones on in the interview rooms. How about I just poke around? Can’t be too far, right?”

  “Sure,” Joyce replied. “Knock yourself out. You know where his office is, and you can check his work area in the basement too. Although I don’t think he did much computer stuff down there. Used it more for storage and his tools, but you can look.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be back in a sec.”

  Joyce turned back to her pot of water, which was starting to boil. Sean made his way upstairs and into Don’s office. After a few seconds, the house was filled with the sound of drawers being opened and closed, papers being rustled, and items being moved around. The serenity of the late night had been disturbed, and there would be no turning back until morning.

  Things had been set in motion that could no longer be undone.

  For Sean, this was now or never.

  60

  Lieutenant Phillips stood on Sean’s porch, looking down at the cluster of police cars and unmarked units. New Jersey State Police were there along with a few uniforms and a pair of detectives from the local Gloucester Township Police Department. His own car was still parked in the driveway from when he’d initially tracked Liam to the house. Heckle and Keenan were inside. They’d found everything Liam had promised.

  They’d found the truth.

  After Liam had disappeared, Phillips called out for help until a neighbor appeared with a flashlight and a shotgun. Phillips had identified himself and instructed the neighbor to call for assistance. Police units arrived shortly thereafter and unlocked the cuffs. They found what Liam had told him would be there. Along with the hair, they also discovered pictures of the victims taken in a surveillance-type setting and a box full of new orange extension cords, same make and model that had been used in the other murders. One of the cords had a Prusik knot on one end and a slipknot tied in a figure eight on the other. He’d been practicing.

  A new BOLO had been issued with Sean’s information on it now instead of Liam’s. The street had been closed off in both directions, so the element of surprise was long gone. This hadn’t hit the news outlets yet, but if Sean happened to be coming home, it wouldn’t take him long to see the aura of emergency lights floating over his house. He could make a clean getaway before they even knew he was in the vicinity. With that in mind, Phillips had stationed officers beyond the perimeter in case Sean did, indeed, try to come home.

  Keenan came out onto the porch. “We’re all done in there,” he said. “Bagging it up and taking it back to the station. We’ll get Forensics on it right away. We also got a team at Sean’s boat. We had it dry-docked after Liam took it. They’ll process it again now that things have changed.”

  “Good. Keep me posted.”

  Keenan walked back into the house as one of the New Jersey State Troopers came up the steps to the porch. He was slim and looked young, but the stripes on his arm showed that he was a sergeant and the senior man on the scene.

  “We have perimeters set up in a ten-mile radius. My men are aware of make and model of his truck, license number, and suspect description. If he tries to come home, we’ll get him.”

  Phillips shook the trooper’s hand. “Thank you.”

  “You have no idea where he might be?”

  “No, but I’ll check in and see if anyone has spotted him.”

  He took out his phone and dialed Don’s cell phone, but it rolled to voice mail. He then tried the station house. Neither the dispatcher nor the desk sergeant had seen or heard from Sean or Don. He called the owner of Sullivan’s and asked if Sean or Don had been in there for a drink. They hadn’t. He tried Liam’s cell, but that number had been disconnected. A call to Vanessa went unanswered. Finally, he tried Don’s house again. He had to let him know what was going on.

 
Joyce picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”

  “It’s me,” Phillips said. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I need to speak to Don.”

  “Don’s at the station. They think they have a lead on Liam.”

  “Have you talked to him? Because I just called the station and they said they haven’t seen him or Sean all night.”

  “Sean’s here now,” Joyce said. “He’s the one who told me Don was at work.”

  Phillips froze in place and pressed the phone tighter to his ear. “Did you say Sean is there now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alone? Don’s not with him?”

  “He said Don was at the station. They’re working on a new lead for Liam.”

  “Joyce,” Phillips said. “I need you to stay calm and listen to me. Don’t react to what I say. Just act natural, but listen.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’ve found evidence that points to Sean as the killer. Not Liam. You need to get out of the house. Now.”

  “What?”

  Phillips walked down from the porch and motioned for the other officers while he spoke. “Liam is on his way over to the house now to talk to Don. I spoke to Liam tonight. He showed us evidence that links all of this to Sean. Sean’s the one we’ve been looking for. You need to get out of there.”

  “No,” Joyce whispered, her voice trailing off. “That can’t be.”

  “You need to get out of the house. Now. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sending units, and I’m on my way.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Don’t be. Just get out of the house.”

  Phillips hung up the phone and ran toward his car. He looked up and saw Heckle and Keenan running out after him.

  “What’s going on?” Heckle shouted.

  Phillips pointed to his men. “Get some help over to Don’s house. Sean’s there alone with my sister.”

  “Where the hell is Don?”

  “I don’t know. Just go!” He climbed into his car and reversed out of the driveway, skidding across the street and almost hitting another unit that was parked to block traffic. Tires screeched as he pressed on the gas and headed back toward the city. His world was spinning out of control.