Gone After the Wind

Chapter 32: Pulled off

"I've f*****g told you. I didn't bring it with me because that would serve as my ticket to hell, wouldn't it? I know how to clear my way and ensure the folks back there won't trace me. I'm not a knucklehead, for God's sake. I left it at her home, that's all I can say to you," Lincoln spat and slapped the metal table with both of his palms, the metal links attached to the handcuffs dangled in motion, and clinked against the table. He reclined back on the chair, staring incredulously at Agent Rose who was sitting across him, practically showing that everything the agent had said was a pile of bullshit, and had cost both sides a terrible waste of time.

Watching from the observation room, Cara stopped pacing at once to get a good look at Lincoln's face on the monitor, trying to decipher if he was speaking the truth through the expression on his face and his minimal gestures. Though their conversation had gone around that point again, and Lincoln's narrative didn't vary at any angle, it would be a waste not to take her chances this time. Everything that must be seen is right there, after all. The answers to all of her questions, and where she'd be able to prove Lincoln's real involvement in the case. All it requires is to be clever, keen, and neutral as she can without letting sour feelings block her way of thinking.

To her utter disappointment, though, it was still directing her in the familiar direction, towards the same conclusion she has been trying to desperately disprove and dismantle. Despite analyzing the facts offered out in front with paramount interest and impartial view, her mind came up, yet again, with only one sentence.

Lincoln seemed to be spitting the truth, and he was getting far away from being the real culprit.

Though she doesn't have any factual points to support that assumption yet, it was hard to unify his character to the definite profile of the killer. His criminal records may be an overwhelming factor to consider but it's a different thing to think about when his actions spoke for himself and started to contradict the ideal image of the killer's version in her mind. Her hunch is getting stronger, the longer he stayed there and moved his mouth. She knew she was jumping to conclusions, very rapidly, and that was strictly forbidden for her, but she just couldn't disregard what her intuition has been pointing out. Couldn't even leave the idea alone to intervene in the questioning, request the agent's attention for a second so they could regroup and analyze what should be their next plan after thing.

If only that wouldn't be disrespectful as it would appear, she'd be over with this internal conflict soon after it started. And she wouldn't have to wait for the Maryland PD's update and FBI's background check on the guy.

Because she had a row with Lincoln, Agent Rose chose to confront him face-to-face and politely asked her to wait behind the monitor for two hours before she could have her chance. The materials they found in his flat weren't enough to give them confidence and charge him with crimes the evidence was speaking. It should be strong. Sufficiently strong to put him behind bars for years and be up for trial for life sentences. It wasn't just her idea that Lincoln is hiding much more malevolent than s****l crimes.

Cara couldn't refrain from thinking, though, if the marionette serial slayings are one of them.

Sighing irritably, Cara gripped the back of the chair and hit it a bit frustratingly, causing Sanford—the tech analyst—to flinch and looked at her with bewilderment. She smiled tight-lipped and gestured for him to carry on operating the feed. Calming herself down, she crossed her arms and decided to listen in silence, stopping the fidgeting at once.

"Then how would you explain these sightings of your car?" Agent Rose pointed to the printed photographs of the truck lined up on the table. "This can't be a minor coincidence, right? It's not as though your car followed you all the way through here like a lost dog yearning for the presence of his owner."

"Well, maybe it was f*****g stolen? How could I possibly know what happened to that bloody thing? You're the cop here, not me. It's your job to deduce and solve mysteries, right? Then why waste your time on me?"

Agent Rose wrinkled her nose and leaned forward against the edge of the table. She clasped her hands over it, erasing all the pleasantness on her face. "Mr. Lincoln, do you have any idea how vile the nature of the crimes that were associated with this truck is? Beyond evil. The worst of the worst. You can't blame us if we looked so determined to jail up someone because we've been tracking the mastermind of all those slayings for months on end. It's the first time that we ever came across someone who has so much potential to fit the depiction of the killer. It's also the first time that we discovered such a solid lead. And it's all linking to you, Mr. Lincoln. Lying to us now won't do you any favor in the court—"

"Where's your proof, then?! That I'm the person responsible for those shits you're talking about! You have no evidence that I brought it with me. Nor do you hold something to trap me that I've used that crap for months!"

"You don't have any proof to show us that you didn't bring it, either. Nor you didn't use it for the years you spent living in here. We can't trust your words. With all the things we found there, how could we place you in the benefit of the doubt?" Agent Rose fired back.

"You could if I say 'I want my lawyer'," Lincoln replied smugly, mouthing the last words with so much insult that Cara reminded herself to punch him once he got out.

Agent Rose remained to look at him, cold and calculating. She then shifted into positions. She stood up and opened a yellow folder. From its fixed contents, she pulled out photographs—portraits of the Marionette case's victims. Cara flinched at the sight of those three.

"What's that? You're showing me those so you could gain a reaction from me?"

Agent Rose didn't respond and continued to spread the photos. Cara watched Lincoln's face closely, not from the monitor now, but from the thick glass separating them.

"No, I'm showing you them so you could take a good look of the women that had been unfortunately, and had been unjustly victimized because of someone's uncontrollable insanity. And there's a chance that none of them will receive the justice they deserve if you don't start cooperating and give us what we wanted," Agent Rose said firmly. "The truth is all we wished to hear from your mouth, Mr. Lincoln. Don't add fuel to the fire you already created. You're already facing several charges, and I assure you none of them will be pretty. I won't follow your argument that you left it. Because if you did, why is it here, in the same place as you are, and being used to pick on innocent women?"

"I've been telling you the truth! You're not just listening to me!" Lincoln hollered, desperation draining out his voice. "I don't know! I really don't! It could have been stolen or my ex-wife had been hijacked, for all I know! I abandoned it at her house, I flew out of the state, and that's it! End of story! When I got here, I didn't use any type of vehicle to sustain my living even if I wanted to. I've been through hell after that. I had to commute every single day. Can you imagine that?"

Agent Rose glanced at the mirror, and Cara understood exactly what her eyes meant. Unfortunately she has no resources to back her up, or finally disprove Lincoln's endless denial. The report was already thirty minutes due, and judging Eric's unresponsiveness, it wouldn't come anytime soon—

The unexpected swung of the door immobilize her swerving thoughts at once. She wheeled around, anticipating to see Eric coming in, but his presence was impossible to spot. Instead, she found herself facing a group of three men, only one recognizable, while the remaining two looked to be from another department or not from here, at all.

"Eric couldn't make it so he sent me to deliver you these," Detective Grant said, handing over four manila folders and a tiny black flash drive. "Those contain the full background of your suspect, as well as his past criminal records that you didn't have the chance to see."

"And this drive?"

Grant held his breath as he struggle to compound an answer. Grunting, he winced in Cara could make of as a disgust. "Every thing they confiscated in his computer. Fair warning, though, before you view it, it's very gruesome and upsetting. You might want to take precautions before you proceed."

Cara's eyebrows drawn together, eyeing Grant with utter scrutiny. His round eyes flitted around, fixating to the mirror behind her. She could tell from his pale face, and uncomfortable posture that what he and Eric had seen was traumatizing enough to gain such unpleasant reaction.

Giving the drive to Sanford, and clipping the folders in between her armpit, Cara gestured the two bulky men talking in hushed voices as they observed the questioning from the far corner of the room. Her eyes fell on the emblem etched on their jackets, small enough to be seen from distance. The design and acronyms were somewhat familiar. She had seen those somewhere. From the case files, perhaps?

"Who are they?"

Grant snapped back to reality, and stepped aside to give way for Cara to look at them properly. "Oh, they're the detectives from Maryland PD. They arrived only a minute ago. Soon as you made the call yesterday, they went straight here. Chief approved their visit so they might pitch a short talk with your suspect, as well."

"What for?"

"Dunno. They didn't talk much so I didn't bother to ask either. Weren't you expecting them?"

Cara shook her head, the newfound curiosity tickled her mind like a teasing feather, bringing fresh questions that felt more alluring to ponder on. If Lincoln's brutality only circling at s****l crimes, why is there a haste to be here, ensure if they got the real man and present themselves rather roughly as though they'd be about to make an astounding arrest?

"Wait here," Cara instructed and trudged past Grant. She approached the two silently, going from their back. She waited until their conversation faded before striking a warm greeting and exposing a brief introduction of herself.

"Oh, we know you. We heard about you quite a lot," said the man with the bulbuos face, and thickening brown hair. His small eyes narrowed at her.

"You did? On what grounds, if it isn't too much to ask?"

The other man bowed his head, the one who was much taller than any of them in the room. He looked younger, and more placid than the heavy one. His hair was cropped clean, revealing the outline of his baby face like. His lips stretched to a courteous smile. "Both good and bad. We know what you did to the senator years ago which was very admirable and which we're also grateful for. We also know what you did two months ago which was... a bit horrible."

"Potter," the heavy man warned, poking him with his dead-eyed stare.

The lanky man scratched the back of his head, smiling squeamishly. "Sorry, I didn't mean it the wrong way."

"It's okay," Cara answered, shifting uncomfortably. "Even I, thinks the same. Putting that aside, may I know your names and why you're here?"

"I'm Grisham Potter," said the younger one, extending his hand. "And this is my partner, Garan Seinfeild. We're both from homicide, specializing on cold cases and s****l crimes against women. We're here because we recently found out that you have Lincoln in custody for the serial murders that you currently investigate. We want to know exactly how did you manage to track him down, and why is he being held for?"

Cara glanced at Lincoln who was tilting his head opposite to Agent Rose's direction, obviously refusing to listen to the agent's another compacted reasoning. "His name turned up into our radar because the car that our suspect was apparently registered under his name. It's an automatic assumption that whoever owned it might just be the person we're looking for, and so far, Lincoln is a potential candidate. He's being held for suspicion of serial slaying, and for the assault of an agent, too. It's not going good for him. Considering his reputation, and his uncooperative behavior, it'd be impossible to release him without any charges."

"Unsurprising," replied Garan in gruff voice, planting both of his palm on his hips. "That fool wrecked our community, too. For reasons completely devilish. It won't just disappear on them, eh? That hunger to defy all the laws of human nature, and be on the opposite side."

"What did he do?"

This time, the younger detective was the one who spoke. "He's the main suspect of two of the coldest cases we have back in Maryland. Involving vulnerable women, too. Assaulted and violated in all of possible means. We couldn't arrest him years ago because he evaded the DNA testing and crossed the state unbeknownst to us. We've been trying to uncover his traces for years unrelentlessly. Atop of those cases, he's also under suspicion of his ex-wife's death."

"His ex-wife?"

"Yeah, Melinda Northwood died of unnatural causes. She was found dead in her home. Partially naked. With a wide s***h on her throat, and her head covered in burlap sack. There was no one around their house other than Mathias. He was automatically branded as the suspect because of his lack of conclusive alibi. At that time, his name was also beginning to appear repeatedly in the cases we—"

"Burlap sack, you mean?" Cara asked in bewilderment, her heart pounding excitedly in her chest.

"That's right. Same as the MO of the killer you're chasing down," Potter said, voicing out the definite and loudest thought occupying her mind.

She went silence for a moment as she continued to stare at Lincoln, longer and deeper than before, calculating and examining every twitch and flick of the expressions on his face. If the detectives were vomitting the truth, then there is no room for doubt to be explored anymore. The nature of his ex-wife's death and the fact that he owned that car just expanded the chances of him, being the savage man that has been causing them extreme despair for the last several months.

Was it really just as simple as that? Did she linger too much on doubt that she failed to see the truth already offered in plainsight? Was her high expectations blinding her too much?

Chewing the corner of her lips, Cara shut her eyes tightly, finding herself slowly conceding and appreciating that idea. The dark clouds faded, radiant lights slipping in, giving space for her new hope to bloom.

"Anyway, we're highly grateful that you caught him. All things considered, we knew he can't hide for so long, and we waited years for that moment. With the kind of lifestyle he maintained in our state, he wouldn't be able to resist not doing any of it," Potter added, sighing as he folded his arms over his chest.

Cara didn't respond. She watched as Agent Rose straightened up her body, clicked the audio recorder and aimed for the door. Soon as she disappeared, Cara saw how Lincoln heaved a deep sigh, obviously relieved, and undressed another ball of gum, popping it inside his mouth with so much feigned disinterest, it made Cara smirk. If he hadn't tried so hard and put too much effort on hiding the trembling of his hands, she would have been convinced he's being completely cocky and confident he'd get away tonight.

His actions, however, displayed otherwise.

The door behind them clanked noisily, distracting Cara for a second. She listened to her heavy and edgy footsteps getting closer. A sharp slam on the table and Cara's head snapped towards her.

"He's denying everything," Agent Rose remarked, her tone was chippy. Combing her hair out of frustration, she sat on the same desk where the monitors were set-up, one leg dangling, the other foot pressed on the floor. "This is bad. I can't force out a confession from him. He's adamant to tell the truth. I don't understand why the hell does he still need to lie. He knew he's done for. It's both a waste of time if he keep dodging it."

"We may have the solution for that," Cara answered, and Agent Rose's head perked in response. Gesturing their visitors, Cara went over through a brief introduction, revealing their main purpose of crossing states, and how can their involvement help them put Lincoln behind bars.

Agent Rose was astounded upon hearing their grounds to arrest him. Right off the moment everything sank in, her spirit renewed and she looked more pleased than she expected.

"What do you think, Cara?" she asked, her eyes glowing with such refine excitement, Cara hesitated to voice out her real opinions, afraid she might say something disgraceful. Relaxing her tensed her shoulders, she cracked a small smile.

"I think we got it—the major breakthrough we've been waiting to happen," she answered. "Lincoln is only the suspect who has gotten this far, the only one who got entangled with most of the crucial evidence we acquired. That enough... speaks volume."

"Not to mention her wife died similarly to the way the victims did," Agent Rose added. "We were wrong about that. Nelia Rasco wasn't the first. And he wasn't certainly unequipped as we assumed when he came here. He didn't gain knowledge by simply materializing his sick fantasies, he was prepared, filled with experience. Maybe that's why he was able to take a break for two months after what he did to Nelia."

"Well, that's Mathias Lincoln for you. And that's only the surface of what he's really capable of. Imagine how satisfying it will be to escort that man into prison," said Seinfeild. "Let's get this over with, can we? We can arrest him now, if you wish. We already attained a warrant specifically for the crimes he committed in our state, and some member of our task force are heading here to assist us. All we need is your consent. Do you have anything else to say to him before we head in there and say hi?"

Cara and Agent Rose shared a look. They added nothing, and that served as a cue for the two detectives to do what they have been waiting for years to happen. To spread the heart-stopping moment, Cara sent Grant out of the review room to call Chief Alman and brief him about the situation. Not long after Potter and Seinfield entered the interrogation room, and Chief Alman joined the small crowd, Lincoln finally heard the phrases he's been eluding for years and justice seemed to have found its way home.

It was such a pleasing sight. The satisfaction that run through Cara's veins while witnessing how the arrogance on Lincoln's faded, replaced by defeat, when the cuff slapped on his wrists was so defined, she was sure she'd relieve it again. Though there were whispers of doubts irking her ears, she tried her best to match up the level of relief harnessing the room, pushing all the way the thoughts that might instantly kill the mood.

The events following Lincoln's arrest came about like a lightning passing in a blink. Chief Alman congratulated them for the hard work, and promised to take the obligation of sending a letter to the DA. Tomorrow they'll get a response, and until then, the case is considered done. There may be some remaining loose ends that needs to be tied and taken care of, it has come to an end as far as the evidence suggest.

The day ended rather peacefully than it should. The arrest hasn't been broadcasted so there was no any sort of ruckus that ambushed them when Agent Rose and Cara exited the station and drove back home. Like she planned beforehand, she arranged for a special and exquisite dinner. She prepared the dishes on her own, refraining Nana Ryla from the chore for once and manuevering the kitchen like a boss.

Because it should be taken as a surprise, Cara ordered Nana Ryla to fetch Alex instead of her so he wouldn't know something is happening back at home. Agent Rose stood by at the corner of the kitchen, watching Cara with interest as she narrated some factual things about her. It was both fun and refreshing. Talking with someone who has the same experience as her, and cooking Alex's favorites. Though it's a bit of a worry that he might not appreciate the effort because of their argument last time.

Cara went on with positivity, nevertheless. And the look on Alex's face when he saw the table, and heard what it was all about, was priceless, and a remarkable transition to Cara's mood. He liked it. Genuinely. And he wasn't even being sarcastic when he approached Cara and introduced himself to Agent Rose. It pleased him, though he's trying to hide it very recklessly.

"Can I see your badge?" he asked in the middle of their enthusiastic dinner and their conversation about Agent Rose's job back in their HQ.

Agent Rose's stopped chewing for a moment, her head tilting in confusion. He smiled, obviously shy at the request. "I just want to see the difference between yours and what my mom owns. Does it have any variety, though?"

"Well, you can see for yourself. Here," Agent Rose answered, leaning back against the chair to pull out her badge. She handed it to Alex. Cara stifled a smile as she watched him grasp the badge like it would shatter into pieces if held improperly. His eyes were glimmering, and he kept muttering things out of his sheer astonishment.

"Be careful not to scratch it," Nana Ryla reminded.

"Sick, huh?" Agent Rose leaned in. "Which do you think is much more cooler? That or your mom's."

"Choose wisely on that, Alex," Cara warned playfully.

"Of course, it wouldn't be yours, Mom," Alex answered without hesitation.

Agent Rose laughed.

"Hey."

"No offense, Mom. But yours is pale in comparison. Not just in terms of superiority, in my opinion, in the appearance, as well. Just see how shiny this looks and how heavy it feels. Is it true, by the way, that you can scare someone just by using this?"

"It depends on the situation. Let's say I'm a—" Her words were cut off by the chirping sound of her cellphone in her pocket. "Wait." She fished out her cellphone, and for reason that Cara couldn't understand yet, her face fell and there was a flicker of minor fear on it. "It's the Director. I have to take this. Excuse me for a moment."

Cara watched her tread carefully to the corner of the kitchen, searching for any changes in her demeanor as an attempt to decipher what could have that call meant. She didn't mean to pry but something is off. Most probably. And she has a feeling that it involves the case.

Though she can't hear the conversation as clear as she wish, the sudden slump on Agent Rose's shoulders and the way her voice went low were enough to tell it wasn't pleasant.

"Tomorrow? That fast? I thought you said—that's impossible. I can't—" A paused. "Oh, that's why. Fine. Consider it accomplished." She dropped the call and turned back.

Cara returned her gaze to Alex abruptly, pretending she kept track of Alex's stories.

"Sorry I had to take that," Agent Rose said, sitting down again. "I, uh, have to get back early, by the way," she said in a hushed voice.

"Why?"

"I'm coming back to HQ tomorrow. I have got another case to look on."

Cara's eyebrow drew closer. "But you haven't yet completed the two weeks plan."

"I have been pulled off," she answered. "Effective immediately. He didn't explain in full details but I know it has to do with the senator. He spread some words about me, and contacted the Director. It's probably because I disagreed with him last time."