Authors: Micqui Miller
"GABRIEL!" Sheila put a stop to the accusations. "We won't find Annie by arguin'." She turned to her eldest, ignoring his bleary, red-rimmed eyes. "Mick, I trust you've had some sleep, so you're fresher than these boys. Tell us what to do next."
Within an hour, the Academy's chaplain reported his car stolen, and Mick had twisted the arms of several of his police buddies, good customers of the Calla Lily, to join in the search. He'd taken time only to shower and eat one of his sisters' sandwiches to quell the demons in his stomach before he set out, too.
* * * *
308
Sweet Caroline
by Micqui Miller
AS CONCERNED AS he was about Annie, he had to speak to Caroline first. He had to apologize and beg her to give him a chance to explain.
He nearly flew the twenty miles into town, only to be disappointed at Caroline's empty parking space. What did he expect? He'd ordered her out, but somehow he'd believed she'd still be there when he returned. Why did she have to start listening to him now? "Please, God," he prayed. "Don't let her be gone."
At the top of the stairs, the emptiness assaulted him. It wasn't the sound, but the lack of it. Her door stood open wide. Head bowed, and fighting the burning at the back of his eyes, Mick dared to cross the threshold into the living room that had lost all feeling of life and vibrancy. The closets stood empty, the drawers cleaned out. Only the bar of soap in the shower bore witness that anyone had been living there. She wouldn't have gone far last night, he reasoned. Probably checked into the Holiday Inn.
It took less than five minutes to dash that hope. Not a hotel, motel, or B & B in the area had any record of her. He dialed her number at work. After several rings, her voicemail answered. Hearing that wonderful Central Texas twang made him break into a broad smile.
"Caroline, it's Mick. Please don't erase this message without listening to it. Annie's missin' and I'm helpin' to find her, but I have to talk to you. Call me on my cell. I know I'm an idiot, and I'm sorry. Please give me a chance to explain." He would have said more—told her he loved her—but the tone 309
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cut him off. If she didn't call back within twenty minutes, he'd call again and keep calling until she'd listen.
* * * *
ONE OF THE officers helping in the search for Annie told Mick he'd talked to a service station operator who was sure he'd helped a nun fill up her tank. He said she'd told him she was going to San Francisco to spend the evening with friends.
"Mum, we think she spent the night in the San Francisco with friends," Mick told Sheila as he drove toward Rohnert Park and ZyQyx Headquarters.
"Why would she do that without tellin' us? And who would she still be knowin' in the city?"
"Don't know, but that's all we have so far. I'll keep lookin'
and you keep prayin', okay?"
"Wouldn't hurt you do a little prayin', too," she snapped.
"I am, Mum, trust me, I am."
Mick tried Caroline's line again from the ZyQyx parking lot, and this time, his blood ran cold. Instead of Caroline's cheerful greeting, a computer message answered, "You have reached a number no longer in service." Mick cut off the rest of the message.
"Screw this," he said and jumped out of the Jeep.
* * * *
"NO,
YOU
DON'T understand, Gerard," Mick shouted into the obstinate face of the younger, frailer man whom he towered over, but who refused to let him see Ian. "I don't care if you call in Security, the Highway Patrol, and the 310
Sweet Caroline
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National Guard. You have ten seconds to tell Ian that I'm here, or I swear to God, I'll use you for a battering ram and break down that bleedin' door myself."
"Mr. Foy is not here. How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"Until you convince me, which will be never. Eight..." Mick counted. "Seven ... six ... five..."
"All right, all right." Gerard threw down his pencil. "Give me a minute." He stood and strutted to the door of Ian's office and rapped twice. Mick was on top of him the minute Gerard turned the handle.
"Get out of my way." He pushed Gerard aside. "Striker, what have you done with her?"
Ian Foy looked up at Mick without saying a word, then he waved off Gerard. Alone with Mick, he leaned back in his chair, rested his elbows on the arms and laced his fingers.
"What have I done with whom, Mick? Lost another of your women?"
Another?
Had Mick heard correctly? Was Foy talking about Annie? "Where is Caroline Spring? What did you do to her?" Ian sighed and rolled his eyes. "What I did to her? Look what she did to me. Here." He pulled up a Post-It that had been pasted to his blotter and handed it to Mick. "Read it and weep, Mahoney. That was waiting for me this morning." He picked up Caroline's report. "Along with this." He smiled his hallmark toothy grin. "D'you suppose the new groom will have conjugal rights where he's going?" 311
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"I've read her report, Foy. I have a copy of it, too." For less than a millisecond, Mick read uncertainty in Foy's eyes. Just as quickly it disappeared.
"I don't give a damn what you have, Mahoney. This is the final, official version, and it's going to put you and your baby brother away for a long time."
"That's bullshit and you know it."
"We'll see about that." Ian stood and leaned forward. He thrust out his chin and flattened his hands on the top of his desk. "The Mahoneys are going down, Mick. You and the rest of your fucking clan. This report has all I need to prove Brian diverted the funds and you received them. You don't believe me? Here, take this one and read it again. You'll be interested in the new evidence that's not included in your copy. I have several dozen of these that I'm only too willing to share with anyone who's interested."
Mick took two steps forward and leaned across the desk until his face was only an inch from Foy's. "You're a bloody liar, Ian Foy. Caroline knows the truth and so do I. No matter how you alter this report, you'll never win." Ian stood tall and leisurely scratched the underside of his chin. At the same time, three members of the security staff nearly tripped over themselves racing into his office. Foy waved them off. "No need, fellas. Mr. Mahoney was just leaving. Weren't you, Mick?"
Mick straightened his jacket and ran a hand through his hair. "You're a loser, Striker. Not worthy to scrape dog shit off the boots of a Mahoney. You'll never beat us, never."
"Wrong, my friend. I already have." 312
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Only the thought of finding Caroline kept Mick from ripping the smile off Ian's face and taking his head along with it. Marching back to his Jeep, Mick used every curse and invective he knew, regardless of language. Annie was gone and now Caroline, too.
Lost another of your women?
Mick hadn't said a word about Annie, only Caroline. No way Striker knew Annie was missing, too—unless he was responsible for both of their disappearances.
Mick's fingers flew over his cell's keypad the minute he slid inside his vehicle. As he suspected, the number he had for Caroline in Dallas answered with a disconnect message.
"Damn it!" He dialed long distance directory assistance. Five calls later, he exhaled the breath he'd been holding at the heavy, Texas-twanged voice that answered, "Prosecutor's office, Travis Spring."
"Travis, this is Mick Mahoney. I'm lookin' for your sister." After a long pause, a suspicious-sounding Travis said, "I thought she lived across the hall from you. Why are you calling me?"
Because I'm an idiot and drove her away.
"I'm at ZyQyx. Ian Foy just told me Caroline flew home last night. I called her number this morning. It's disconnected. I need to speak to her, it's urgent."
"How do I know you're really Mick Mahoney?"
"Bloody hell, man, because I'm tellin' you so. Now is Caroline there or not?"
After another excruciatingly long pause, Travis said, "Give me your number. If you check out I'll call you back." 313
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"Travis, we don't have time for that. If Caroline's not with you, that means she's missing, too."
"Missing, too? What the hell's going on out there?" Mick heard the panic in Travis' voice that told him Caroline was not with him. His head pounded and his stomach churned. Against the heat of the morning, he zipped up his jacket. He felt chilled to the bone. "I wish I knew, Travis. My cousin Annie's disappeared and now Caroline. Annie's been gone since noon yesterday. She had Caroline's postcard with her."
"Give me your number, Mick. I'll check out her place and get back to you."
A few minutes later, Gabe was on the line to Mick. The police had found the "stolen" car parked two blocks from Holy Trinity Academy. Locked, keys under the floor mat. No sign of a struggle. Looked like Annie had parked it and walked way.
"Striker's responsible for this," Mick said in a quiet voice that seethed with anger. "He's got Caroline, too."
"What? Caroline's missing, too? What the hell is going on?" Gabe exclaimed, echoing Travis' sentiments.
"I haven't connected all the dots yet, but you can bet Ian's behind it."
Over Gabe's protests not to hang up, Mick cut the connection and continued watching Foy's BMW from his vantage point hidden among the cypress outside the ZyQyx building.
Travis called back in less than half an hour. He'd been to Caroline's condo and it was just as she'd left it. Then he told Mick about the man he'd run off twice in one day. 314
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"Describe him to me."
"Tall guy, kind of grayish-blond hair. Maybe fifty. Gut hanging over his belt and a big grin, all teeth. Said he'd heard Caroline's place was on the market. I came on strong, ran him off. Ticked me off because someone had hacked into Caroline's computer and sent e-mails to her boss and her landlord that she was staying in California."
"When did this happen?"
"Couple of days ago. She brushed it off as one of her hacker friends playing a practical joke on her."
"Or maybe she didn't want to worry either of us."
"I told her to call the police." Mick heard the same frustration he felt in Travis' voice. "She wouldn't listen to me. Never does."
"If it's any consolation, mate, she doesn't listen to me, either."
"What do you want me to do at this end?"
"Hang tight in case she shows up. Let me know if you hear anything—anything at all. I'll be back to you as soon as I hear something."
* * * *
BY THREE O'CLOCK, Mick's head was splitting and his stomach churned. He had broken surveillance once, only long enough to duck behind a tree and answer Nature's call. He was zipping up when Ian Foy walked out the front doors of ZyQyx, as if he didn't have a care in the world. He drove out of the lot and turned north. South was home to Foy—was north where he was holding Caroline and Annie?
315
Sweet Caroline
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FOR MORE THAN two hours Mick trailed behind Ian Foy at a discreet distance, sometimes turning and using a street that ran parallel with the main roadway or hanging back if he knew a traffic signal was about to change to red. Foy gave no indication he knew Mick followed. He didn't speed up or careen around corners like the car chases in the movies Mick had never tired of as a child. There was something so deliberate about the way Foy drove from place to place, almost telegraphing his next move, Mick wondered who was chasing whom.
The slow, deliberate pace also gave Mick a chance to mull over the details in Ian's version of Caroline's report. He'd thrown it on the seat beside him, and from time to time, flipped a page while stopped at a red light and re-read a sentence or a phrase. What an elaborate scheme Striker had concocted to bring down the Mahoneys. He must have planned it for months, maybe even years, but his motive for dragging Caroline into the mix still eluded Mick. While he drove along, he also checked in regularly with Gabe. Still no word on Annie, but they'd reached Brian and Ramona, who'd turned back immediately and headed home. Gabe and Sheila had spent part of the day with the Mahoney family attorneys, who in turn contacted colleagues who specialized in fraud defense. Whether Foy made good on his threat, the Mahoneys had circled the wagons and were ready to fire back.
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"What's he up to now?" Gabe asked when Mick checked in at 5:30 p.m. "Still going in circles?"
"We've been to the cleaners, the bank and two mini-marts. If he stops for dinner at the Calla Lily, I swear I'll poison his food myself."
"Careful, Mick, if Foy's put a listening device under your bed, what makes you think he hasn't wired your car?
Threatening to poison him will sound great to a jury." Mick laughed but neither of them would put anything past Striker Foy. "How much longer 'til the police are willing to take the missing person's report?"
"Mum and the twins are down there now, with John Carey."
Mick knew the attorney's reputation, although he could not put a face to the name. "That's the best news I've had today."
"Then come back, Mick, and leave this to the police. You and Striker are both hotheads. We're going to have enough trouble keepin' Brian out of jail. We don't need you sharin' a cell—or worse, disappearing, too."
"Don't worry about me." His voice was grim and determined. "Setting up Brian's one thing. In taking Annie and Caroline, he crossed the line. I'm going to get them back, Gabe, even if I have to kill the sonofabitch to do it."
"Mick, I know what you're feeling, but you have Charlie, Rick and me, and the police. Mum's called in the entire clan. By suppertime, there'll be a hundred of us here to help in the search. Keep your telephone line open, and if he leads you 317
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somewhere, we'll be right behind you.
You don't have to do
this alone.
"