Jordan Quest_A Jordan Quest FBI Thriller Page 2

  As Jordan shared the stories from her diary, the first being her encounter in the Intensive Care Unit with Marjorie Ecclestone, the second her visitations in her hospital room by Zhi Huang and Zachary Forsythe, her parents and Marissa sat quietly and listened.

  Next, she told them about Adar Ahmadi, a Muslim woman from Queens, New York, who had appeared several days later. The victim of an apparent hit-and-run, Adar revealed to Jordan the truth behind her death: that both her husband and father had conspired to have her killed because they believed she had dishonored both her family and faith by becoming ‘too Westernized.’ Observing a change in their demeanor, suspecting that her life might very well be in danger, Adar had secretly downloaded a spyware application to her husband’s cellphone which covertly recorded his calls. She showed Jordan where she had hidden the slip of paper (behind the velvet-lined lid of her jewelry box) on which she had written the website login details. She asked Jordan to contact the police and reveal the truth behind her death. She told her how, in life, she had been a good person, and a better mother. She did not deserve to be taken from her children in such a cruel and heartless manner.

  The visitation from Joan Fontaine followed a week later. The South Dakota grandmother had been found by her daughter, Wendy, in her country estate. She had been murdered, the victim of a violent home invasion and robbery. Jordan told her parents how Joan had shown her the exact location of her stolen jewels, among which was a fourteen-carat gold wedding ring which had belonged to her late mother. Inside the band were inscribed three cherished words: NOW AND FOREVER. The heirloom had come to signify sixty years of a successful marriage. Also stolen was a pair of half-carat white gold earrings, a gift from her parents on her graduation from medical school, along with a Cartier Panther ladies watch and ten-carat diamond necklace, both of which had been anniversary gifts from her late husband. The items lay hidden under a loose floorboard in a seldom-used hunting cabin, two-hundred miles away, placed there by the drifter who had killed her, along with the leather gloves he had worn when he strangled the life out of her.

  Gavin Pearce appeared to Jordan in her sleep. The twenty-four-year-old day laborer and father of three had taken a part-time job as an overnight security guard at a landscape and garden supply company in Naples to earn extra money to support his young family; a decision that ultimately cost him his life. He had been found bludgeoned to death, his body hidden behind a row of large ceramic planters. During their investigation of the crime scene, police found a padlock and a pile of loose chain lying in the tall grass outside the main gate. The lock appeared to have been cut. Police concluded Gavin had been the unfortunate victim of a break-and-enter. One of the company’s partners, Jeremy Reese, told authorities he had arrived in the morning to find the gate slightly ajar, the office safe open, and Gavin’s body in the greenhouse. The safe had been relieved of the previous day’s cash receipts of twenty-seven-thousand dollars. Gavin showed Jordan what the police had not been able to determine: how he had been murdered, and who had killed him. Deep in gambling debts, Reese himself had staged the robbery. Unbeknownst to him, concerned about a recent rash of break-ins in the area, his business partner had hired Gavin the day before to keep watch over the property at night. This was Gavin’s first evening on the job. While robbing his own company, Reese was startled to hear what he thought was an intruder on the property and picked up a cutting blade from a used riding mower. He had sold the machine to a fellow contractor the night before and had been making a few agreed-upon adjustments to it before it was to be picked up the following day. Reese surprised Gavin and killed him with the first strike of the blade. Panicked at what he had done, he wiped down the blade and reinstalled it on the machine. The mower was picked up and taken away the next morning. Reese then called the police to report the break in and his discovery of Gavin’s body.

  Jordan paused. “There are more,” she said. She held up her journal. “Fifteen visitations so far. All of them asking for my help. And I want to help. But I don’t know how.”

  Her father spoke first. “You can’t be sure this is real, Jordan. Perhaps these are nothing more than lucid dreams.”

  “I know how it sounds, Dad. I’ve spent the last two months agonizing over this. I know the difference between a dream and a visitation. And this is as real as it gets.”

  “It’s not that we don’t believe you, honey,” her mother said. “It all just seems so… impossible.”

  “People all around the world have reported experiencing this type of phenomenon after going through an NDE,” Marissa offered.

  “NDE?” Mary asked.

  “Near-death experience,” Marissa clarified.

  Her mother looked baffled. “I can honestly say I never saw this coming. No parent ever expects their child to be affected like this.”

  Jordan held her hand. “Don’t worry, Mom,” she said. “I’m fine. I’ve got this. I just need you to tell me what to do.”

  Mary turned to her husband. “What do you think, Michael?”

  Her father leaned back, folded his arms. “You know what I’m going to say, Mary. I believe in fact, not fiction. There’s only one way to know with certainty if what Jordan is experiencing is real or not.”

  “And that is?”

  “To put it to the test. We allow Jordan to prove whether or not her claims are real.”

  “What do you propose?” Mary asked.

  Michael turned to his daughter. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Don Curnow is a friend of mine. He also happens to be Chief of Police for the City of Naples. I’ll call him. If Gavin Pearce’s case is still unsolved, I’ll ask him if he’d be open to hearing what you have to say. I’ll also ask him to keep the investigation quiet. If the information you provide proves to be the break in the case they’ve been looking for then we’ll know there’s something here worth pursuing. But if it doesn’t, your mother and I will need to consider other possibilities.”

  “Such as?” Jordan asked.

  “Whether or not there’s a medical explanation for this.”

  “But I told you, I feel fine.”

  “And I’m sure you are,” her father replied. “But that doesn’t mean your subconscious mind isn’t trying to deal with some sort of post-accident trauma which is now presenting itself in this manner. Remember what Dr. Halstead told us? He was seconds away from putting you into a coma before you came around.”

  “I know,” Jordan replied.

  “Don’t misunderstand me, honey,” Michael said. “I don’t want to go down that road either. We’ll check out your story first. But if it doesn’t pan out my next call will be to Dr. Halstead. Are you good with that?”

  Jordan nodded. “I am.”

  “Fair enough.” Michael Farrow opened his cellphone, found Curnow’s number, and placed the call.

  “Chief Curnow.”

  “Don, Mike Farrow here.”

  “Mikey,” the Chief answered. “Jesus, how long has it been?”

  “Two years, at least.”

  “I keep reading about you in the papers. How’s life as a tech billionaire?”

  “I can’t complain.”

  “Guess not!” the Chief laughed. “What can I do for you, Mike?”

  “Does the name Gavin Pearce ring a bell with you?”

  “Yeah. Homicide, three years ago. Why?”

  “You ever catch who did it?”

  “No. Not yet, anyway. Why?”

  “Promise me you won’t think I’m nuts.”

  “O-kay.”

  “My daughter may have information that could help you solve the case.”

  “You saying she knows who did it?”

  “In a manner of speaking… yes.”

  “Tell her to lay it on me, Mikey,” Chief Curnow said. “I’m all ears.”

  Chapter 5: PROBABLE CAUSE

  CHIEF CURNOW telephoned Michael Farrow two days after his conversation with Jordan to update him on the progress his departm
ent had made on re-opening the investigation into Gavin Pearce’s unsolved homicide. Based upon the information Jordan provided, Curnow had assigned two of his best detectives to look into the girl’s claims. The outcome stunned the law enforcement veteran.

  Shelley Barnes, Michael’s executive assistant, interrupted his meeting with Farrow Industries board of directors. “I’m sorry, Mr. Farrow,” Shelley apologized. “Chief Curnow from Naples Police Department is on the line for you. He says it’s urgent.”

  Farrow excused himself. He took the Chief’s call in his office.

  “Sorry to pull you out of your meeting, Mikey,” Chief Curnow said, “but this couldn’t wait.”

  Michael Farrow steadied himself as he waited for the news Curnow had to share. “What did you find out?”

  “She was right,” Curnow replied.

  Michael sat up in his chair. “What?”

  “I said your daughter was right. Jordan’s information turned out to be legit. It turned the case.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Michael exclaimed.

  “Not for a second,” Curnow said. “My guys followed up on the information she provided. I kept it totally anonymous… told them it came from Crime Stoppers. They paid a visit to Petal and Pavers, the landscape company owned by Jeremy Reese and his brother, James. They questioned Jeremy again. Asked him what he knew about the sale and pickup of a riding mower transacted on the morning Pearce’s body was found. Reese started acting nervous, which told them they might be on to something, so they chummed the water a little, asked him how he’d respond if they were to tell him they had reason to believe part of a mower he sold had been used to kill Pearce, that the mower was on a flatbed on its way to the crime lab for forensic analysis at that very moment, and if there was any reason he could think of why they might find blood evidence belonging to Pearce on the machine – a machine with which Gavin Pearce had no prior contact whatsoever.”

  “What did Reese say?”

  “The detectives said he was quiet for a moment, then told them the whole story – how he rifled the safe for the cash, tried to make it look like a break-in, was surprised when he heard Pearce, killed him with the lawn mower blade… the works. Based on his confession, he’s been charged him with the murder of Gavin Pearce.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  “You’re telling me,” the Chief said. “I’ve got to be honest with you, Mike. Had it been anyone but you calling me and claiming their daughter had psychic insight into the case, I’d probably have thanked them for their time and wished them a pleasant stay at the Looneybin Motel. But we go way back. I can trust you. Not to mention Jordan’s perhaps the most mature twelve-year-old I’ve spoken with in years. I challenged her story, came at her from a few different angles to see if she’d flinch or waver. She didn’t. Not once. She was completely convinced that she was right, totally locked in. She sold me, and trust me Mikey, with my experience that’s a damn hard thing to do. You should be proud of her. You’ve got one hell of a gifted girl there.”

  “Thanks, Don. But now I have an even bigger problem to deal with.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Gavin Pearce isn’t Jordan’s first such contact. There’ve been many. And if they’re all true, if all her experiences are real, as your results seems to prove, her world will change… big time.”

  “You mean your world,” Curnow said. “This will affect you and Mary as much as it will Jordan.”

  “You’re right,” Michael agreed.

  “Let me help,” Curnow offered.

  “How?”

  The Chief paused. “How many instances are we talking about?”

  “Fifteen so far. Probably more by now. This happens to her daily.”

  “All right,” Curnow said. “Here’s what I propose. I have contacts in law enforcement at all levels across the country, including the FBI. I’ll act as her advocate. I’ll handle the introductions, share my personal experience working with her, legitimize her ability, and encourage them to take her seriously. The rest will be up to her. But I can guarantee by the time I’m through talking with them they’ll realize she’s the real deal. Pretty soon she won’t need anyone’s help anymore. Her track record and reputation will be solid. Police agencies will be calling her.”

  Michael Farrow was speechless. “I don’t know what to say, Don. This means a lot.”

  “Don’t worry about it, buddy. I’m the one who should be thanking you. At least now you know with certainty that Jordan’s gift is real. She’s a special girl. One who happens to have an extra-special ability.”

  “So where do we go from here?” Michael asked.

  “Call me tonight. I’d like Jordan to tell me more about her visitations. We’ll strategize how to approach law enforcement with her information. I’ll need for you and Mary to be on the call.”

  “We will.”

  “Good,” Chief Curnow said. “Talk to you soon. In the meantime, give Jordan a message from me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Tell her I’ve got her back.”

  Chapter 6: VALIDATION

  IN THE weeks that followed, Chief Curnow and Jordan reached out to senior law enforcement officers across the country to discuss the unsolved homicides in their jurisdictions. Not surprisingly, the nature of Jordan’s insight into the crimes was met with a great deal of skepticism. But Chief Curnow’s sharing of his personal experience working with her on the Pearce homicide calmed the waters. First the officers listened to the veteran policeman, then they acted.

  The events that transpired next were unprecedented in Chief Curnow’s twenty-year career.

  Every cold case for which Jordan provided information and assisted authorities resulted in either a conviction of the suspect, issuance of a warrant for the same, or successful resolution of the case.

  In New York City, Alphonse Mercado, now an eighty-six-year-old widower and ailing grandfather of four, was stopped and questioned by police on the steps of All Saints Roman Catholic Church after attending Sunday Mass. In their report, when NYPD detectives identified themselves as police officers and told him they wished to discuss the 1982 homicide of Marjorie Ecclestone, Mercado suddenly fell ill and collapsed in their arms. Less than a minute later he was dead. The Office of the Coroner attributed Mercado’s death to a massive heart attack. The veteran detectives shared a different opinion. They believed that his death was brought about by the instantaneous realization that the remains of an evil secret he had managed to keep buried for thirty-six years had finally clawed its way to the surface. Angered by the suggestion their father could have had anything to do with the now-infamous Ecclestone murder, the family granted detectives unfettered access to their father’s home. In a box of cleaning rags tucked under the basement stairs, investigators found Marjorie’s crumpled hotel apron. DNA testing performed on the garment came back to Marjorie and a male contributor, later identified as Alphonse Mercado. Although Mercado’s motivation for killing Marjorie remained a mystery, the case was now officially closed.

  When detectives from the Chicago Police Department knocked on the door of Madelaine Braxton’s posh River North condominium they were greeted by a shirtless, well-built young man, as full of attitude as he was alcohol. After identifying themselves and apologizing to Madelaine for the intrusion, the officers asked if she might give them a few moments of her time. Madelaine invited them inside (at the objection of her boy toy) and asked about the reason for their visit. The detectives informed her there had been a development in the murder case of Zhi Huang. They had reason to believe Ryan Braxton, now her ex-husband, might be innocent of the crime for which he’d been found guilty. Madelaine finished her glass of wine and poured another. She seemed upset by the prospect that the closed case was now being reconsidered. What she didn’t know was how thoroughly the detectives had prepared for their meeting with her prior to knocking on her door. They had pulled the murder weapon from custody, re-tested the switchblade for
trace evidence, and found a minute drop of Zachary Forsythe’s blood in the torque coil spring of the blade. This proved one of two things; Zachary was present at the scene of Zhi Huang’s homicide, or he had handled the weapon before or after she was killed. The blood sample taken from the switchblade matched the blood type noted in the coroner’s report when his body was processed. Detectives believed, somehow in death, Zhi Huang and Zachary Forsythe were connected. Ryan Braxton told investigators he had found out about his wife’s affair through the prison grapevine and that Madelaine had hired a newly paroled inmate by the name of Carleton Leggett to kill Zachary. Leggett had recently died, killed by a drunk-driver just two-weeks earlier. Detectives visited his yet-unrented apartment and found a miniature digital recorder in the top drawer of the bureau in his bedroom. A single track was recorded on the device: a conversation between Leggett and Madelaine Braxton, in which the economics professor promised to pay Leggett the sum of ten-thousand-dollars in return for killing Zachary and making his death look like an accident. Crafting his questions carefully, the ex-con had gotten her to reveal her motivation for contracting Forsythe’s death. Zachary was a loose end, a co-conspirator, and the only person alive who could connect her to the murder of Zhi Huang. Detectives played the track for Madelaine. Upon hearing her voice on the recording, she stopped talking and demanded to speak with her attorney. Detectives happily obliged, but not before charging her with conspiracy to commit murder in the deaths of Zhi Huang and Zachary Forsythe. Madelaine Braxton was placed under arrest and taken into custody.

  The same NYPD detectives assigned to investigate the cold case murder of Marjorie Ecclestone were asked to follow up on Jordan’s lead pertaining to the death of Adar Ahmadi, the Muslim woman killed years earlier in a hit-and-run. Over a period of five years prior to her death, Adar had built a successful jewelry design company. Because both her and her husband’s cell phones were registered to and paid for by Adar’s business account, a court order was granted demanding the developers of the covert recording software, ConverSecret, to provide authorities with a transcript of the apps call history. Per company policy, copies of all undeleted recordings were retained on their computer server for a period of seven years. A review of the recordings proved what Adar had claimed in death: that her husband, Mustafa Ahmadi, and her father, Rejeesh, conspired to have her killed for the reason Jordan provided to police. When presented with the evidence during questioning the two men confessed to planning and carrying out the honor killing. Both were charged with Adar Ahmadi’s murder.