The Road to Justice/Sins of the Son combo pack - A John Fowler Novel (John Fowler (Books 1 & 2)) (4 page)

Chapter 6

             

Jessica. What are you doing in MY
APARTMENT!?!?!?!?

 
John bellowed.

             
Jessica rolled her eyes,
straightened up,
walked
further
into the apartment, and looked around.  It was in much better shape than she expected.  To be honest
,
it was pretty well kept for an almost forty, recovering alcoholic, widower.  She was sure there would be pizza boxes, hamburger wrappers, and the like strewn all around.  In fact, truth be told, his apartment was in much better shape than her apartment.  Jessica chuckled inwardly.  Jessica looked over at John and thought, so far, so good. 

             
Jessica

The Hammer

Hammerstein was probably the one person John hated the most in this world . . . well . . . the second.  The first being whoever had killed Sam.  Jessica had been given the nickname

The Hammer

because of her work in interrogation.  Most criminals always wanted her in the box.  Most simply thought she was a beautiful woman that got the job because of her looks.
 
However, once the interview started, they quickly regretted that decision.  If Jessica found one inconsistency in an interview, she would hammer on a person until she got that person to break.  Every once in a while a story was inconsistent for very valid reasons.  Either way, by the time she was done, she would know why.  John had used her skills as an interrogator many times over the years. 

             
John spoke,

I

m waiting.

 
Jessica looked at John and took a deep breath.

             

John, let

s get this out in the open right now.  If you

re mad at me for what happened in that intervi
ew room over three years ago, the
n you

re a fool!

 
John

s mouth fell open.  Chet had known this moment was coming, but winced anyway.  This moment had been building for three years.  He knew if John was to ever come back to the FBI
,
this moment had to happen.  Over three years ago
,
when
John

s wife died, John was a suspect.  It was simple really; wife found dead, husband is the first person looked at, end of s
tory.  After
the biggest
Mafia
bust in recent FBI history, with
John
being the lead undercover agent
,
the FBI had to make absolutely sure their man hadn

t gone nuts and taken out his wife.

             

John, if the FBI had put anyone else in that box to interrogate you, what would you honestly say?

 
John said nothing; he just stared at the floor.  Jessica continued. 

John?  John!!

             

Cover-up,

John whispered.

             

John, I can

t hear you.

 

             
John shot Jessica a death look.  He cleared his throat,

A cover-up.  I would say the FBI had gone soft and had done a cover-up.  I know that Jessica.  I accept that.  The FBI actually did me a favor by having you grill me.  Let me take that back.  You didn

t grill me; you rode me hard and put me up wet.

 
Chet covered his mouth with his hand so John wouldn

t see him smile. 

I told you what happened, every gory, blasted detail at least ten different times.  So tell me this, Hammer
.

John said sarcastically. 

Why didn

t I serve any time for killing my wife?

             
Chet grabbed John

s arm. 

John, we

ve talked about this.

 
John pulled his arm away and walked to the window and looked out.  He put both hands on the window seal and spoke.

             

Look, do me a favor, both of you.  Get OUT!!!

 

             
Jessica walked up to John, grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. 

I

m sure Sam loves the way you

re
keep
ing
her memory.

 
John looked as though he had been slapped. 

She

s dead. 
Buried.
 
In the ground for three plus years.
  GET OVER YOURSELF!!

John pulled away and walked out the door of his apartment
in
to the hallway.

             
Chet started to walk after him and Jessica stopped him.

             

Don

t.  He

s got to get past this if we

re going to be a team again.  I admit, we need him, but we need the old John, not this depressed shell that

s living here.  Let

s start on the file.

             

Here?

 
Chet asked.

             

Have you got somewhere more pressing to be?

 
Jessica asked. 

Besides he

s got to come back sometime . . . right?

Chapter 7

             
John was halfway down the building stairs when it dawned on him.  He had just stormed out of his
own
apartment.  He couldn

t help it.  He began laughing.  There were so many emotions that were swirling inside of him.  He still didn

t know if his friend thought he was suicidal.  John knew
he wasn

t  . . . not yet
.  He had one thing he had to do, and then . . . John pushed those thoughts from his mind.  What would Sam say to him if he were to take his own life??

          John walked out the door of his building with tears streaming down his face.  He walked over two buildings and started up the stairs to his PI Office.  Why he kept it he had no idea.  It wasn

t like he needed all the room.  He could do everything in his apartment, but John didn

t feel right bringing all of the cases to his home.  He needed to keep things separate . . . well as far as PI work was concerned. 

Sam use to give him grief constantly for bringing FBI work home.  That was all in good fun.  It was the undercover work that was the strain on her.  14 months planted into
the
Mafia
, John had become too i
ngrained.  He drank with them constantly.  He had a problem, but he couldn

t do anything until his undercover work was over.  John truly was surprised in the last three years no one had tried to take him out.   Of course maybe that hadn

t happened because they were much too busy trying to take out the

rats

that had turned on the family.  As much as some of the
Mafia
life was romanticized, when it came time to do life, or take a deal and live in witness protection, the mob crumbled.   There was also another reason.  Maybe the mob thought he was already dead.           

John sat at his desk and looked out the window.  He could see the building that Sam used to work in.  He leaned forward and opened the drawer where he had the locket he had never given Sam.  He was going to her the night she
died to apologize.  They had made all the busts . . . except one.  A low level member had gotten away.  If John had known that at the time ... John shook his head, tears welling in his eyes.  He was going home that night to tell Sam he was joining AA and even quit the FBI if she wanted.  John was a block from the apartment when it exploded.  The FBI reported John dead.  They tried to put him in witness protection, but he refused.  That was when he first heard the mutterings of him being suicidal.  Maybe he was, or maybe he just felt like he had nothing left to lose.


Ok
,
Sam. 
I take this case, get reinstated, and find your killer.  Of course, as far as I

m concerned he

s sitting right here in this office.

 
John lowered his head and wept openly. 

Sam,

he whispered. 

Sam, I

m so sorry.  It should have been me.

Chapter 8

One Hour Later

John entered his apartment.  Jessica and Chet were going through the relatively thin file for a quadruple homicide.  Jessica saw John, stood, and walked over to him.  She stopped an arm

s length away.


John, we need to finish the conversation we were having,

said Jessica.  John nodded, his cheeks still wet from tears.


John, I need you.  You haven

t lived in over three years, you

ve just existed.  I need one of the FBI

s top investigators.

 
Jessica stared at the floor.  She spoke very quietly,

John, Chet and I haven

t done so well since you left.

 

John looked up sharply.  He glanced over at Chet.  John studied him hard.  Chet looked a little gaunt in the face.  His eyes were puffy and dark like he hadn

t been sleeping.  John cursed himself under his breath.  He had been so wrapped up in his other problems that he hadn

t even noticed.  He looked back at Jessica and studied her carefully.  She was as beautiful as ever, but normally she was also very meticulous about her clothes.  When he looked over them, they looked slightly wrinkled.  It could have been anything from not being ironed to sleeping in them.  Whatever it was, it was something that John, no not John, not this John.  John Fowler, FBI agent, he would have noticed.  He looked back at Jessica, nodding for her to continue.


Since you  . . . left, our little team has never found a person to replace you.  She crossed her arms and slowly started to walk the room. 

See . . . well, they kept trying to replace you.  Geez I can

t believe I

m about to say this.

John crossed his arms and smiled broadly,

I

m waiting.

Jessica turned toward John her face angry.  She crossed the space between them in three long strides, her arm extending.  She pointed furiously at John as she spoke. 

See!  See! This is why!  This is why no one has contacted you in three years!  They don

t want to put up with you and
your
egotistical  . . .

 

John interrupted her,

Good to see you still can

t admit you need and want me.

John ducked to avoid the right hook.  Now if someone had walked in on this, they would have thought John was under attack.  John knew better.  For some reason, and John thought he knew why, he could push Jessica

s buttons until she was literally ready to knock his head off.  In the seven years they had worked together he had dodged dozens, if not hundreds of punches.

John was laughing,

Ok, ok.  Things aren

t going good, but you guys survived without me for fourteen months when I was undercover.  I mean I was in a little, but mainly it was just the two of yo
u.  What has gone so wrong this time?

 
John smiled at the unspoken question he didn

t dare ask at this point. 

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