Close Your Eyes

  THOMAS FINCHAM

  CLOSE YOUR EYES

  A MARTIN RHODES MYSTERY

  Close Your Eyes © Thomas Fincham 2016

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, including the right to reproduce this work or portions thereof, in any form.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Read Thomas Fincham’s Starter Library for FREE when you sign up to my Reader’s Group.

  GET MY FREE E-BOOK

  Visit the author’s website:

  www.finchambooks.com

  Contact:

  contact@finchambooks.com

  HYDER ALI

  The Silent Reporter (Hyder Ali #1)

  The Rogue Reporter (Hyder Ali #2)

  The Runaway Reporter (Hyder Ali #3)

  The Serial Reporter (Hyder Ali #4)

  The Street Reporter (Hyder Ali #5)

  The Student Reporter (Hyder Ali #0)

  MARTIN RHODES

  Close Your Eyes (Martin Rhodes #1)

  Cross Your Heart (Martin Rhodes #2)

  Say Your Prayers (Martin Rhodes #3)

  Fear Your Enemy (Martin Rhodes #0)

  ECHO ROSE

  The Rose Garden (Echo Rose #1)

  The Rose Tattoo (Echo Rose #2)

  The Rose Thorn (Echo Rose #3)

  The Rose Water (Echo Rose #4)

  STANDALONE

  The Blue Hornet

  The October Five

  The Paperboys Club

  Killing Them Gently

  The Solaire Trilogy

  FOREWORD

  Dear Reader,

  When I first introduced Martin Rhodes in the Serial Reporter (Hyder Ali #4) I had no intention of writing a series with him as the lead character. I was content with writing more Hyder Ali books. But as time went by I found myself going back to Rhodes. Who was he? Did he have a family? And more importantly, what would he do next now that he was out of prison? In order to answer these questions, I wrote Close Your Eyes.

  I hope you enjoy reading it.

  Thomas Fincham

  ONE

  Tammy Lynn McGuire rocked slightly as the subway train moved at a swift pace. She wore a purple sweatshirt, gray sweatpants, pink runners, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

  She was staring at her finger. A white line marked where she once wore her wedding ring. Her eyes welled up with tears, but she controlled herself. There were passengers sitting around her, and she did not want to cause a scene.

  She had never suspected her marriage was doomed. Maybe that’s how it always is, she thought.

  Her husband, Rick, had moved out of their two bedroom apartment and was now living with his mistress. He did not even give her a chance to kick him out. He just came home one day and said he was leaving.

  She couldn’t believe it had come to this. Rick had been her high school sweetheart. They had married right after they had graduated. It was a small wedding, for sure. No church. No fancy reception. No expensive honeymoon.

  They got married in Rick’s uncle’s backyard. They had erected a tent where guests could sit. There were not that many to begin with. They found an ordained minister online to officiate at the wedding. Afterwards, all the guests were invited to an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet. Their honeymoon was a long drive to Las Vegas, which her mom paid for. Tammy did not care for a dream wedding. She was just happy to have the man of her dreams.

  She shook her head whenever she thought of Rick. She was only eighteen when she decided to tie the knot with him. What did she know about men and marriage then?

  After her honeymoon, she wanted to go to college and become a nurse. Instead, she took a job as a waitress to help pay for Rick to get his auto mechanic license. Rick eventually landed a job for a big company that owned several garages. When her time came to apply to colleges, she became pregnant with their son, Rick Junior.

  The boy was now five years old. He was the most beautiful thing in her life.

  Her son sat next to her, entertaining himself by bouncing a ball. On a few occasions, she had to tell him not to bounce the ball too hard. “There are passengers getting on and off the train at each stop, Rick. You could hit someone with that.”

  Right after Rick Jr. was born, she decided to stay home and take care of him. After all, being a waitress did not pay her enough to afford day care. She hoped that once Rick Jr. was old enough to go to kindergarten, she would follow her dream and enroll in college.

  Over the years, she had visited many colleges and had picked up brochures and information pamphlets. She had even checked out online seminars on the steps to becoming a nurse.

  During this time, Rick was very supportive of her. He assured her that he would help pay for her dream like she had helped pay for his. Rick loved being a mechanic, and he always told her that, one day, he would have his own garage.

  She believed him because she loved him.

  She also believed that he would take care of her.

  What she did not know was that for the past six months, he had been having an affair with the secretary at his garage. She was younger than Tammy Lynn, but according to Rick, she had her own place and no wild dreams she kept nagging him about.

  Tammy Lynn did not understand why he would think her wanting to become a nurse was nagging. She thought, If I got a good job, wouldn’t that help us financially?

  Regardless, when their marriage ended, she could not get a job that would pay enough to support her and her son. She had been out of the work force for over five years, and with no post-secondary education on her résumé, there were not many jobs open to her. Rick had left her with just enough money to pay for food and one month’s rent.

  Seeing no other option, she turned to her mother.

  With her mother’s help, Tammy got a job at the same bottling factory where her mom worked. It was hard work with long hours, but what choice did she have? Fortunately, the supervisor was nice and understanding. He alternated shifts between her and her mother. This allowed one of them to look after Rick Jr. while the other went to work.

  Tammy spotted a man sitting across from her. The train moved from side to side, but the man’s body remained erect. She realized that all through the ride, the man had not once moved. He was wearing a beige trench coat. His eyes were covered by sunglasses, and it looked like his hands were pulled inside his sleeves.

  Maybe he is asleep, she thought.

  She watched as the train stopped at a station and more people got on and off.

  The train moved again, and Rick Jr.’s ball slipped out of his hands. It rolled across the floor and hit the man’s shoes.

  Rick Jr. looked over at his mother. He was too afraid to go and pick it up.

  “I warned you not to bounce the ball too hard,” Tammy Lynn said, scolding him.

  “Sorry, mommy,” he replied.

  She smiled and patted him on the head. She could never be angry with him. He was the one bright light in her world right now.

  She leaned over to the man. “Excuse me, do you mind kicking the ball over, please?”

  The man did not stir.

  She tried again, this time a little louder. “Can you kick over my son’s ball?”

  No response.

  She shook her head. Some people are not one bit courteous.

  She got up and stormed over to him.

  When she leaned down to pick up the ball, she froze.

  The man had not pulled his hands inside his jacket sleeves. They were completely missing, as if someone had cut them off.

  Shocked, she looked up at the man. His skin was pale and his lips had sta
rted to turn blue.

  Horrified, she turned and ran over to Rick Jr. She grabbed him and pulled the emergency brake lever.

  The train squealed to a halt as the emergency brakes took hold. The noise was loud and deafening, more than enough to mask her screams.

  TWO

  The office was small, but the walls were decorated with certificates and other designations. Dr. Jacob Cohen was a lead medical specialist at Bridgeton Mercy Hospital. He had graduated at the top of his class from Harvard Medical School. After several years at Massachusetts General Hospital, Dr. Cohen decided to move to the city of Bridgeton.

  The woman glanced at her watch but did not complain. She had been to Dr. Cohen’s office many times. Dr. Cohen was a specialist, but he always made room in his busy schedule for her.

  She could see the Bridgeton Harbor from the window. She wished she was there right now. In fact, she wished she was anywhere but here.

  She adjusted her leather jacket and her hip holster.

  Special Agent Johanna Pullinger of the Federal Bureau of Investigation was not known for being patient or sitting idle. Jo, as she was known, was an energetic go-getter with a type-A personality.

  She was five-ten with short blonde hair and striking green eyes, and she was in great shape except for one thing: she had been getting chest pains again. She had a rare heart condition, which had first been diagnosed when she was a baby. Doctors predicted she would not live past her fifth birthday. Miraculously, she did. They then predicted that she would not be active in sports and other physical activities. She proved them wrong by becoming the best basketball player in the state. To top it off, she ran several marathons, including the Boston Marathon and the New York Marathon.

  When she applied to the bureau, her doctor at the time advised her against applying. She would not pass the physical, he said. Her heart would not take the stress.

  She turned to Dr. Cohen. He was a family friend. But more importantly, he was her father’s friend. He agreed to be her doctor but under one condition: if her health worsened for any reason, she should come to him immediately.

  The door swung open, and Dr. Cohen entered. “Sorry for the delay,” he said. “We had an emergency.”

  He sat behind his desk. He was short, bald, had a grayish beard, and his glasses were perched on his thin nose.

  “When did the pain start?” he asked, skipping the pleasantries.

  “This morning, when I was going up the stairs in my house,” she replied.

  “Describe the pain.”

  “It was sharp and strong. It felt like my entire chest would cave in.”

  He nodded. “Hmm…”

  He pulled off his glasses, leaned back in his chair and stared at her.

  His gaze burned into her. She knew what he was about to say next.

  “Have you reconsidered what we had discussed before?” he asked.

  “I’m not ready for a heart transplant,” she said.

  “Let me at least put you on the waiting list. It can be more than six months before we even find the right donor. Plus, with your rare blood type, it may take even longer. That should give you enough time to think this over.”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Jo,” he said gently. “Right now, your condition is not life threatening. But the way things are going, your health could deteriorate unexpectedly. I would rather be ready if and when that happened.”

  “No,” she said.

  “As your doctor and a medical professional, I advise you to reconsider.”

  “I can’t be away from my job for too long.”

  “If you keep pushing yourself the way you are now, you might not have a job. And, if the operation is successful, you could be back to work in a year or even six months.”

  “It’s still too long.”

  He sighed. “You’re stubborn, just like your father, you know that. I couldn’t get through to him when he was alive. I doubt I can get through to you now.” He put on his glasses and glanced at her file. “How is the pain now?”

  “It’s gone.”

  “Gone as in its-no-longer-there or gone as in I-don’t-want-my-doctor-to-know?”

  “It’s gone. I don’t feel it anymore.”

  “Okay, that’s good to hear. I’ll write you a prescription.” He scribbled something on a pad. “The medication may not be as effective, but take them anyway. They won’t replace a transplant, but they’ll help somewhat.”

  He tore off the sheet and slid it across his desk.

  She grabbed the note, and without looking, she stuffed it in her jacket pocket.

  Her cell phone rang. She checked the number. “It’s work. I have to go.”

  Dr. Cohen stood up and came around the desk. He put his hand on her shoulder. “Anything happens, you give me call, okay?”

  She nodded and smiled. “I will.”

  THREE

  The truck pulled into the gas station and stopped at a pump.

  A man got out of the passenger side. He was six-foot-four with salt and pepper hair and deep blue eyes. He was also clean shaven. He had on a black coat, which hung loosely on his broad shoulders. In his hand was a duffel bag. The bag contained all his belongings: one shirt, one pair of jeans, a couple of socks, and some underwear. There was also a ziplock bag of toiletries, but nothing more.

  He examined his surroundings.

  Next to the gas station was a diner. He had not eaten since he hitched a ride. The truck driver was sixty-two years old, and he delivered produce between states. During the trip, he had offered his passenger some sandwiches, but he politely declined. The driver was already giving him a free ride. He did not feel comfortable having his lunch given to him free as well.

  The man waved goodbye to the driver, who was busy fueling the truck. The driver had another six-hour journey ahead of him. He had been kind enough to take a detour to drop his passenger off, so he was in a hurry to get back on the road.

  The driver waved back with a smile.

  The man entered the diner and headed straight for the bathroom. He went to the sink and filled his hands with cold water. He splashed his face and then stared at his image in the mirror.

  Martin Rhodes could not believe he was living the life of a vagabond. He had no money and no home. He was once a respected homicide detective for the Newport Police Department, but one single action had turned his life upside down.

  He had gone from catching criminals to becoming one. He had spent ten years in prison for murder. It was initially life, but when new evidence emerged, his sentence was cut to fifteen years. This was further shortened when he was given parole due to good behavior.

  Rhodes had been picked up from the Newport Transfer Facility by Hyder Ali, a reporter for the Daily Times, a newspaper in the city of Franklin. Ali was friends with Detective Tom Nolan. Nolan was the one who had discovered the evidence that ultimately allowed Rhodes to walk free. Had Nolan not pursued the case, Rhodes would have still been rotting in prison.

  Rhodes’s stay in Franklin was not uneventful. He had helped Ali catch the Franklin Strangler, a serial killer who was targeting random citizens.

  Rhodes quickly realized his time in Franklin was coming to an end when Ali requested an exclusive interview. Rhodes was, after all, a former detective who had served time for murder. Rhodes agreed to the interview but under two conditions: Ali did not ask any questions about the night of the murder, and that Ali printed the interview once Rhodes had left Franklin.

  Rhodes had no desire for any further attention. He had had his share of the spotlight during his trial, and the last thing he wanted was the media hounding him now that he was out of prison.

  After leaving Franklin, Rhodes wandered from town to town, looking for work. One opportune call to Nolan led him to a town called Parish. His ex-wife needed his help to exonerate her current husband, who had been charged with murder. Rhodes was nearly broke when he had arrived in Parish. Fortunately, at the end of his stay, some money came his way. He nev
er asked for the money, but it was given to him as a token of appreciation.

  Rhodes thought the money would last a good while, and it would have, had it not been for a woman.

  He frowned. It is always a woman.

  He should have been suspicious the moment she told him her name. Daisy.

  He was staying at a run-down motel in the town of Salem. Daisy was in the room next to his. He spotted her a few times, and one day, they spoke to each other.

  She told him she was running away from an abusive boyfriend. Rhodes felt sorry for her. She was young and pretty, and she told him she came from a small town in the west.

  He took her out to a fast food restaurant. He made a big mistake when he pulled out an envelope, which held all his money, and paid for the meal.

  The dinner was pleasant. They talked, and he kind of liked her. She laughed at all his jokes, which should have been a red flag. Rhodes was never known for his humor. But having spent ten years behind bars, he was excited that a girl was giving him attention.

  After their meal, they took a walk around town. She put her arm around his as they did. He didn’t stop her. After what she had told him about her boyfriend, he wanted to protect her. Plus, it was nice to have a woman want his company.

  Moving from town to town had left him feeling lonely. Rhodes was once married, but when he was sentenced for murder, the marriage swiftly fell apart. The dissolution of the marriage was his fault, and Rhodes was grateful that he had been able to make amends with his ex-wife in Parish.

  When he and Daisy reached their motel, she offered him a drink in her room. She had picked up some liquor from the previous motel she had stayed at.

  Stupidly, Rhodes agreed.

  He shook his head whenever he thought about what happened next.

  A few drinks later, Rhodes passed out on the bed. When he woke up, he was still clothed, but Daisy was not in her room. In fact, when he looked around, he saw that even her stuff was gone.