Authors: Rayven T. Hill
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #Private Investigators, #Thrillers, #Crime, #Political, #International Mystery & Crime, #Series, #Assassinations, #Conspiracies, #Financial
“The girl. What about the girl?”
“It appears she has been captured.”
Craig swore. “Captured?”
“By the police. We traced her and found her location to be the police precinct.”
Craig rose from his desk and paced. This was a bad turn of events. Too many things were going wrong with his carefully laid plans, and he had no idea what to do about it.
“I believe she’ll be loyal to us, sir,” Wolff said. “It’s certainly a problem, but not one we can’t overcome.”
“I hope you’re right, Wolff, and I assume the mission was aborted?”
“I haven’t heard for sure, but when we first started the trace, her initial location was near the Lincoln home. She may have tried to continue, and perhaps she succeeded before being captured. Our boys reported police action near the neighbor’s house, where the target may have gone, but they couldn’t safely get close enough to see what was occurring.”
“So we’ve no idea if the mission failed or succeeded?”
“I only know the girl survived.”
Craig terminated the call and sank into his chair. Had he underestimated the Lincolns? If so, they were even more of a threat than he’d anticipated. He was at a loss in how to deal with the situation, but determined to carry on.
Though Wolff’s idealistic worldview didn’t coincide with his own quest for power, the doctor was his best asset, and as long as Wolff believed their goal was the same, Craig could use him to the fullest, and he would eventually triumph.
Now that his father was gone, nothing had changed. He already had control of his father’s assets, and had substantial funds of his own.
It wasn’t more money he needed. It was the power he hoped to attain, and that was what he couldn’t let slip from his grasp.
Thursday, August 25th, 9:22 PM
FORENSICS HAD FINISHED with the Lincoln house and Jake was lounging on the couch in the living room, flicking through the TV channels, when his iPhone rang.
He looked at the caller ID. It was the number from the burner phone he’d given Sammy Fisher.
“Hi Sammy. Tell me some good news.”
“Greetings, Detective Jake. I do have some news, but it’s not all good.”
“Oh?”
“One of my associates talked to a guy who saw the boy. Apparently, a scumbag drug dealer saw him earlier in the day.”
Jake swung his feet to the floor, sat up and leaned forward. “Where was that?”
“Downtown, just off Auburn Street. That’s a rough part of town there, you know.”
Jake scrambled to his feet and scrounged in a side table for a pen and something to write on. He came up with an envelope and scribbled the street name down. “What time was that?”
“Early afternoon, yesterday. He didn’t know the exact time.”
“Did he talk to him, or see where he came from, or went to?”
“Yeah, he sure did. He saw David get into a vehicle. He wasn’t so close, but he swore David was abducted. He said it sure didn’t look like he’d gotten into the car on his own.”
Jake paced, listening intently and thinking. So, David was kidnapped. That’s what they suspected; only now it was confirmed. He didn’t think the drug dealer would have a reason to make the story up. But who had abducted David?
“I may want to talk to the dealer,” Jake said. “How can I find him?”
“He hangs around the alleyways there, looking for customers. He’s got long, stringy hair and wears a black leather jacket and baseball cap. I don’t know his name and I’m sure he wouldn’t give that anyway. But he may not be so interested in talking to anybody who looks like a cop.”
“You think I look like a cop?”
Sammy’s laugh came over the line. “Maybe not.”
Jake chuckled and asked, “I suppose the guy didn’t get the license plate of the vehicle?”
“Nope, but he said it was an Escalade. He said he knew what it was because he lifted one once.”
“What color?”
Sammy sighed. “They didn’t get that.”
“Did he see who was in the vehicle?” Jake asked, as he scribbled on the envelope.
“When they opened the door he saw at least one guy in the back seat, maybe two. He couldn’t see anything else because the vehicle had tinted windows.”
“Excellent work, Sammy.”
“My people are still out there. Someone else may know something. It’s not likely, but they have nothing better to do, so why not keep them busy?”
“It all helps,” Jake said.
“And there’s something else I need to tell you.”
“Yeah?”
“We couldn’t find out anything on the other two kids, the unidentified ones, but it appears there may be a few people missing in the area lately. Homeless, but younger ones. It may be just rumors, or maybe they’re paranoid now, but some of my associates have noticed that a few kids who used to hang around the usual areas haven’t been seen for a while.”
“Any specific names?”
“Hard to tell. It’s more of a feeling than actual fact. You get a feel for certain things when you live in the open air. A lot of familiar faces but you don’t always know their names or anything about them.”
“It seems to fit, Sammy. Most of the killers have been unidentified. They may be some of the ones who are missing, because so far, nobody seems to know who they are.”
“It’s a mean world, Jake.”
“Yes, it sure can be.”
And a lot of cruel people. Jake desperately wanted to get to the bottom of this, and they may finally have a good lead. He had to call Hank and let him know.
“Sammy, let me get on this right away. I appreciate your help and I’ll talk to you later. Maybe I’ll drop by soon.”
They hung up and Jake dialed Hank.
“Detective Hank Corning.”
“I have something for you,” Jake said, and then told Hank the information he’d gotten from Sammy.
“I’ll get Callaway to look into it first thing in the morning, but there are a lot of Escalades around.”
“Yeah, but with tinted windows?”
“Most of them seem to have tinted windows, and I’m not even sure we would have that information,” Hank said. “But let me see what I can come up with and I’ll get back to you tomorrow.”
“And don’t forget to bring me that chip.”
“I won’t forget.”
Thursday, August 25th, 10:22 PM
DAVID HAINES was waiting. He had a plan. A desperate plan, to be sure, but it was all he could think of.
He’d awoken a couple of hours ago, his mind a little fuzzy. He vaguely remembered Wolff had come into the room, probably several hours ago, strapped him to the bed and injected him with something. He couldn’t recall much after that.
Strange thoughts floated through his mind. Something to do with a wizard, or a wolf, or God, he wasn’t sure; it was all very hazy. Maybe it’d been a dream, but if so, a very strange dream.
Wolff had freed him from the straps and brought some food an hour ago. It wasn’t much. A few dry crackers on a paper plate with an apple for desert. He’d washed it down with a cup of lukewarm water from the tap.
But Wolff had said he’d be back soon, and David waited. He paced his cell, patiently biding his time.
He heard a scraping sound as the bolt on the door was drawn and the madman stepped into the room. David sat on the edge of the bed as the door slammed and Wolff approached.
“How do you feel?” the doctor asked.
“Ok.”
Wolff stopped a yard away, tucked his hands into the pockets of his long, white coat, and stood silently, observing the boy.
Now!
David had little strength, weakened from the sparse amount of food the last day or so, but he had determination. He dove forward, his right shoulder slamming into Wolff’s midriff, knocking the wind from his captor with a whoosh, and Wolff went down. The desperate boy grabbed a lock of sparse gray hair and slammed the back of the mad doctor’s head against the concrete floor.
Once. Wolff groaned. Twice. Three times.
Wolff lay still, out cold, but breathing. The boy didn’t want to hurt anyone, but he had no choice. He needed out of this crazy place.
He sprang up and dashed to the door, pulled it open, and peeked out. He saw a hallway, running in either direction, lined with several doors similar to the one he’d been locked behind.
The hall was empty, so he stepped out, uncertain what to do next. He hadn’t planned beyond the point of getting free of his cell, with no idea what he would find.
To the left, the corridor ended at a concrete wall. A dead end. To the right, past several doors, was a larger room, brightly lit. The panel on the door of the next cell was pulled open and he peeked inside. Another doctor, one he hadn’t seen before, was sitting in a fold-up chair. He appeared to be talking to a boy who lay quietly on a cot. Another prisoner, like himself.
He stepped back, tiptoed toward the large room, and peered inside. It was a laboratory of some kind, the walls lined with cabinets, desks and benches, with all manner of equipment David couldn’t identify.
He stopped to listen. No one was there, so he stepped uneasily into the room. He glanced toward a door on the far wall. Would it take him outside and away from this madhouse? It appeared to be his only way out.
He hurried to the door and eased it open a few inches. It led into a garage with a black Escalade parked inside. The same one they had used to grab him.
In horror, he saw the monster of a man sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, beyond the vehicle. It was the thug who’d helped strap him to the bed. A mean-looking pistol was fastened in a holster under his arm. His head had drooped down and his eyes were closed, a magazine threatening to fall from his lap.
Was he asleep?
He eased the door open enough to slip through, carefully shut it, and crouched down. He took a chance and raised his head. The ugly goon hadn’t moved. Keeping low, he crept forward and peeked into the vehicle. The keys weren’t in the ignition.
He glanced at the huge garage door in front. He couldn’t possibly find a way to get it open and jump through in time. That was out of the question, and the only other door to freedom lay beyond the thug.
The brute grunted and David ducked. He heard a loud yawn, and then the rustle of the magazine as it hit the floor.
He looked around desperately for a means of escape, frantically trying to come up with an idea. Wolff would wake up before long, and he would be trapped between a crazy doctor and a vicious brute.
He thought of rolling under the vehicle to hide. There was plenty of space, but from the guard’s sitting position, he would be seen.
His heart was thumping, his mouth was dry, and he was terrified, but he had an idea.
He scanned the floor for something to throw and draw the guard’s attention. The floor was clean, but he had a better idea.
He laid horizontally beside the vehicle, opened his hand and slapped the side door full force with the palm of his hand.
“Who’s there?” the thug called in a gravelly voice. David twisted his head, peeked under the vehicle, and saw him stand.
Again, louder, and meaner, “Who’s there?”
As the feet moved his way, David rolled quietly under the vehicle. The thug had reached the back and was coming around, but David had now slithered silently to the other side. He rolled free and crouched.
This would be his only chance.
The goon was on the opposite side of the Escalade as David crept to the exit. He twisted the knob and pulled the heavy door open.
The guard looked up. “Stop.”
David dashed into the dark. He was outside, but the goon would be at his heels.
“Stop or I’ll shoot you.”
David darted across the gravel toward a row of trees, far beyond. He was weak and he stumbled and fell. He rolled to his feet and staggered on, exhausted, his breath labored.
He heard a horrible laugh from the thug, close behind.
He wasn’t going to make it.
He didn’t make it.
He felt an iron grip on his shoulder and was yanked to a stop. His feet kicked up gravel as powerful arms lifted him and hugged him like a vice.
Struggling and helpless, he was carried back to his prison, the monster chuckling in his ear all the way.
Friday, August 26th, 8:12 AM
JUST AS HANK had promised, he arrived at the Lincoln home bright and early.
Annie watched from the kitchen as Matty swung the front door open. “Hey, Uncle Hank. Catch any bad guys lately?” he asked, giving Hank the usual fist bump.
Hank laughed. “Not today,” he said. “But I’m working on it.
Annie poked her head through the basement doorway and called to Jake who was doing his daily workout. “Hank’s here.”
“I’ll be up in a minute.”
Matty scrambled upstairs to prepare for school while Hank wandered into the kitchen and sat at the table. Annie fixed him a cup of coffee and set it in front of him.
He pulled a plastic bag from his jacket pocket and handed it to Annie. “Here’s the chip you wanted to borrow. The other one seems to be exactly the same. Oh, and I’ll need it back when you’re done.”
Annie squinted at the bag’s contents. “It’s tiny.”
The basement door popped open and Jake stepped into the room. He’d built up a sweat, and was wiping his forehead with a towel. He peered at the bag Annie was holding. “So, that’s it, huh?”
Hank shrugged. “That’s it. I hope to hear back from Toronto on the other one some time today. It might be a GPS tracker, but our lab doesn’t have any expertise in that area.”
Annie smiled. “We do.”
“Good luck with it,” Hank said and took a gulp of his coffee. “Can’t stay long. King is out in the car. We’re going to see if we can round up that drug dealer. If we can get the color of the Escalade, we’ll have more to go on.”
“That’ll save me trying to look him up,” Jake said.
“Did Callaway find anything on the car?” Annie asked.