“That leaves twenty minutes for him to grab her. So where and how? And where is the minivan? Did he dump it? Hide it?”
“And where is Janet’s car?” Daniel mused. “Did she leave it at the rental place when she picked up the van? Was the van delivered somewhere else? I’ll call and find out.”
Chase stood up and stretched. “I need some coffee. You want some?”
“Yeah, thanks. I’m running on only about an hour’s sleep.” Daniel looked up the number for the rental place, talked to the manager, and was hanging up when Chase came back with coffee and bags of cookies from the vending machine.
“Oatmeal or chocolate chip?” he asked.
“Chocolate.” Daniel caught the bag and tore it open with a grimace. “I have Luke’s mama’s leftovers in my fridge but I keep forgetting to bring them in.”
“We could steal Luke’s lunch.”
“He already ate it. Okay. Janet left her Z- 4 in front of the rental place early Thursday and when they came in on Friday morning it was gone. They’ve got a security camera on the parking lot. I’ll stop by and get the tapes for Thursday night into Friday morning.”
“Check out the area the wireless company pinpointed, too. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find there was a security camera wherever he grabbed her.”
“I will.” He munched the cookie, thinking. “Janet calls her boyfriend, most likely under duress. Today Bailey calls to say she’s skipped town and abandoned her child.”
“Can Alex identify Bailey’s voice once we get that message from Social Services?”
“She hasn’t talked to Bailey in five years, so I doubt it. I’ll check with the salon where Bailey worked. They’re most familiar with her voice.”
“It’s not looking good for Bailey,” Chase said. “She’s been gone five days now.”
“I know. But she’s the connection. Hopefully Ed will find something at her house. I called the army chaplain who visited yesterday, but I haven’t heard back from him.”
“You’re not gonna get anything out of the chaplain and you know it. Focus on getting something out of the little girl. Get her in to see Mary McCrady. If this kid has seen something, the sooner we pry it out of her the better.”
Daniel winced. Mary was their department psychologist. “It’s not like the kid’s a splinter or something, Chase.”
Chase rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Sensitize it up for Fallon, but I want the kid in Mary’s office tomorrow morning.” He went to the door, then turned, troubled. “When I heard what happened up in Philly, I thought whatever demons have been driving you ever since I’ve known you were finally dead. But they’re not, are they?”
Slowly Daniel shook his head. “No.”
“Have I given you enough rope to at least hog-tie ’em?”
Daniel chuckled in spite of himself. “Either that, or I’ll hang myself trying.”
Chase didn’t smile. “I won’t let you hang yourself. I don’t know what you think you have to prove, but you’re a good agent and I won’t let you sacrifice your career.” Then he was gone, leaving Daniel with a pile of paper and a few strands of Alex Fallon’s hair.
Get busy, Vartanian. The demons have a head start.
Chapter Ten
Tuesday, January 30, 3:45 p.m.
Bailey.” Beardsley’s voice was muffled. “Bailey, are you there?”
Bailey opened one eye, then closed it again when the room spun wildly. “I’m here.”
“Are you all right?”
A sob tore free. “No.”
“What did he do to you?”
“Injection,” she said, trying not to let her teeth chatter. She was shaking so hard she thought her bones would pop out of her skin. “Smack.”
There was silence, then a muted “Dear God.”
He knew then, she thought. “I worked so hard to kick it… the first time.”
“I know. Wade told me. You’ll get out of here and you’ll kick it again.”
No, Bailey thought. I’m too tired to go through that again.
“Bailey?” Beardsley’s whisper was urgent. “You still with me? I need to keep your mind clear. I may have a way out of here. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” But she knew it was useless. I’ll never leave. Five years she’d fought the demons every day. Feed me, feed me. Just a taste to get you going. But she’d resisted. For Hope. For herself. And with one push of a syringe, he’d destroyed it all.
Tuesday, January 30, 3:45 p.m.
The phone on his desk was ringing. He ignored it, staring at the newest letter. Of course I’m the one he calls. This was worse than he’d ever thought possible.
The phone on his desk stilled and his cell phone immediately began to trill. Furious, he grabbed it. “What,” he snarled. “What the hell do you want?”
“I got another one.” He was breathless, terrified.
“I know.”
“They want a hundred grand. I don’t have that much. You have to loan it to me.”
The photocopied page had come with instructions on how to deposit the funds. It was crunched by his own hands, his knee-jerk reaction at what seemed like an innocent page of pictures, but in reality was obscene. “What else did you get?”
“A page with yearbook pictures. Janet’s and Claudia’s. Did you get one?”
“Yeah.” A page of photos cut from their yearbook and pasted in alphabetical order. Ten girls in all. With Xs through Janet’s and Claudia’s faces. “Kate’s picture’s there,” he said hoarsely. My baby sister.
“I know. What am I going to do?”
What am I going to do. That phrase summed up Rhett Porter. For God’s sake, Kate’s picture was on that page and Rhett was only worried about himself. Selfish, whiny little prick. “Did you get anything else?” he asked.
“No. Why?” Panic hitched Rhett’s voice up a half octave. “What else did you get?”
As if Kate’s picture weren’t enough. “Nothing.” But he couldn’t keep the contempt from his voice.
“Dammit, tell me.” Rhett was sobbing now.
“Don’t call me anymore.” He flipped his phone shut. Immediately it began to trill again. He turned it off, then threw it as hard as could against the wall.
He pulled an old ashtray from his desk drawer. Nobody was allowed to smoke in his office anymore, but the ashtray had been a Father’s Day present from his son, made clumsily by five-year-old hands. It was a treasure he’d never throw away. His family was everything. They must be protected, at all costs. They could never know.
You’re a coward. You have to say something. You have to warn these women.
But he wouldn’t. Because if he warned them, he’d have to tell how he knew and he wasn’t willing to do that. He flicked his lighter and touched the flame to the corner of the photocopy. It burned slowly, curling on itself until he could no longer see the picture of his own sister, circled for emphasis. Kate had graduated the same year as Janet Bowie and Claudia Silva Barnes. The threat was clear. Pay up or Kate would be next.
The last picture to burn was the eleventh, the one only his paper apparently had. He stared as Rhett Porter’s face melted, then burned to ash.
Rhett. You dumb fuck. You’re a dead man because you couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut. When the photocopy was fully burned, he dumped the ashes in the coffee he’d left untouched from the morning. He stood up, smoothed his tie.
I, on the other hand, can be taught. He carefully folded the instructions for the required bank deposit and slipped them into his wallet. He knew a guy who could do a bank transfer and keep his mouth shut. He wiped the dust from the ashtray with a tissue, then carefully placed the ashtray back in his drawer. He had to get to the bank.