Authors: Cheryl Kaye Tardif
Jasi suddenly felt very small. "Are you Cliff Atkins?"
"Yup, chief of security. You must be Agent McLellan."
He motioned her to sit in the chair he'd vacated.
"So what do you need?" he asked, towering over her.
"I need this afternoon's video surveillance, from four o'clock on, inside the hotel and out."
"Computer, rewind to four o'clock," he said loudly.
"Ah, voice activated," she said, impressed. "My partner's been trying to convince me to get one, but I'm a bit tech-challenged."
Atkins smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "It sure makes my job easier."
The screens depicted the interior of the hotel. In the bottom right hand corner, a time stamp rolled silently as time passed by.
Atkins scratched his nearly bald head and dislodged the long strands of gray hair. "What are we looking for exactly?"
"A man. One of the hotel's guests."
"We could find him faster if you have a photograph."
She thought of the photo she and Zane had taken when they were dating. She'd ripped it to shreds when he'd gone to New York.
"Sorry. I don't―uh, hold on a sec."
She pulled out her data-com and scrolled through the recent file uploads. There it was. An entire file on Zane Underhill. She'd forgotten all about it since Zane had moved from suspect to victim.
"Will this do?" She showed Atkins the photo.
"He doesn't look happy," the security chief remarked.
"Government photos are always serious. You know that."
Atkins moved to a desk in the corner. When he returned, he had a portable scanner in one hand. "Do you mind?"
She shook her head.
Seconds later, Zane's photograph was scanned into the system and his image projected onto the upper right screen.
"You have facial recognition software?" she asked.
"All the hotels around the Hill do. Can't take any chances nowadays."
Atkins was right about that. Terrorism had run rampant after the 2008 Recession, when multinational economies tanked. The crash hit Canada, the US, Germany and many other countries, resulting in outrageous gas hikes, home foreclosures, businesses filing bankruptcy and thousands of people loosing jobs as companies restructured. 2008 made history as the biggest disaster in the financial world since the 1929 Wall Street Crash. Now, four years later, they were finally out of the depressing grip of recession.
Atkins pressed a button. The screen switched to a 3-D image of Zane's face and the computer analyzed his facial contours.
"When did he check in?"
She gave him the date and watched as the guard filled in the parameters, including Zane's floor and room number.
"We're ready," he said finally.
Jasi gave a nod. "Run the search."
He gave a simple command. "Match face."
She held her breath.
"Uh, this could take an hour," he said with a grin. "You might want to relax. And breathe."
"I am breathing," she said tightly.
Atkins paced behind her.
Half an hour later he let out a whoop. "We've got a match, Agent McLellan. Now we'll see only the footage of your guy here."
Zane's handsome face filled the monitor screen and Jasi swallowed hard as she watched him move down a hallway, toward the elevator.
"That's him."
"What's his name?"
"Zane Underhill."
Atkins labeled the search. "I can make you a copy if you want."
"Can you upload it to my data-com?"
"Sure."
Zane disappeared into the elevator. The camera switched off as another camera picked up Zane's trail. He was coming out of the elevator on the lobby floor.
The timestamp read 4:30 PM.
Another camera picked him up as he exited the elevator. As he moved across the lobby floor, Jasi studied him carefully. Zane was casually dressed and seemed perfectly at ease. No one had coerced him or made him leave by force.
He'd left of his own free will and the concussion blocked the memory.
The monitor faded and an outdoor camera picked him up as he left the hotel and ducked into a taxi.
"Which taxi company is that?"
"Capital."
She did a quick search on her data-com, then dialed the number. When the dispatcher answered, she said, "This is Agent Jasmine McLellan with the CFBI. I'm looking for some information on one of your pick-ups from this afternoon." She checked the timestamp. "At four-forty, outside the Embassy Hotel. Single passenger, male. I need to know where he was dropped off."
"There were two pickups around that time, ma'am. Both were single male passengers and both paid with cash."
"Where did they go?"
"One was driven to the airport. The other was dropped off at Patty's Pub on Bank Street."
Jasi thanked the man and hung up.
"Do you know Patty's Pub?" she asked Atkins.
"Yeah, it's a popular place for the younger crowd. It's not far from here."
A quick glance at her watch told her it was too late to check out Patty's Pub.
"I'll go in the morning. It'll be busy now and the day staff will be gone."
She strode toward the door. "Thanks for your help, Mr. Atkins. I appreciate it."
"Agent McLellan, is this Zane character involved in something illegal? If he is, I have to let hotel management know."
"He's a victim of a crime."
The color instantly drained from Atkins' face. "Dear God. He's dead?"
"No, he's not dead."
But he could have been.
She stepped into the hall, but Atkins' voice trailed after her. "I sure hope you find whoever's responsible."
She already knew who was responsible.
I put him there.
27
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
~ Ottawa, ON
Patty's Pub was southeast of the hotel, and Jasi could
have driven it easily, but she decided to call Capital cabs. It was a short drive, maybe five minutes. She was dropped off right in front of the pub door. Outside the building, planters hung from hooks and displayed a variety of colorful spring blooms. To the left was a dentist office and on the right was a salon. Zane wouldn't have gone to either.
Jasi opened the door and stepped inside.
The young woman setting glasses on the shelves behind the bar looked over her shoulder. "Uh, we're not open for another hour. Sorry, I forgot to lock the door."
"I'd like to speak to whoever's in charge."
The woman glanced around the empty room. "I guess that would be me. For now anyway. I'm Abby, the assistant manager. What do ya need?"
"I have a few questions about a man who might have stopped in here."
"CFBI?" Abby said when Jasi showed her badge. "That's kinda like the cops, right?" A small silver lip ring twinkled with each word.
"Kind of."
"Is this about the fight last night? Cause if it is, I…like, never got the dude's name. Manny threw him out."
"This isn't about last night. It's about the day before. Do you usually work the day shift here?"
"Yeah. Nights too, sometimes. The owner is really good with us. If we need more money, we can work more hours. I'm trying to pay off some student loans."
And an expensive tattoo habit.
Abby had a Celtic cross tattooed on the right side of her neck, a coiled and fanged cobra on the inside of her left wrist and some kind of floral design under her left sleeve.
"Nice ink," Jasi said.
Abby smiled wryly. "Wish my mom would agree. But you know how mothers are?"
No, actually I don't, Jasi was tempted to say. There was no mother figure in her life. Never had been. The closest person to that role would be her aunt Eileen, who was eight years older than Jasi's father and could never remember Jasi's name.
While Abby watched over her shoulder, Jasi placed her data-com on the bar and scrolled through a few photos. She stopped when she found Zane's photo.
"Did you see this guy here," she tapped the data-com to enlarge, "the day before yesterday, around four-forty?"
"In the afternoon? It was busy here that day."
"So you didn't see Zane."
"Who?"
"Zane Underhill. The guy in this picture. He's from Australia, speaks with an accent."
Abby grinned. "Hey, if I met a dude that hot who spoke with a sexy accent, I think I'd remember. But like I said, it was crazy busy."
"What was going on that made it so 'crazy busy' here?"
Abby pointed to a team photo behind the bar. A group of hockey players in jerseys raised their beers in the air.
"One of our local teams. We sponsor them. This place was packed, wall to wall. My own brother could've walked in and I probably wouldn't have noticed."
"Who else was working that day?"
The woman shrugged. "Pete, Kelsey, Monica and Rica. Had to call two in at the last moment."
"Do you have their contact information?"
"I'll get it for you."
Abby disappeared into the back and Jasi took the opportunity to call Ben.
"I'm striking out here," she told him.
"Maybe Zane never actually went inside. Did you check the buildings next door?"
"I will, but I doubt he went to see a dentist or a hairstylist. Besides, the taxi driver was given the pub's address."
She heard Ben sigh.
"This case is getting stranger by the minute," he said. "Zane got into a cab, gave the driver an address and yet he doesn't remember leaving his hotel room." His voice was tinged with anger, and maybe a trace of disbelief.
"I know it doesn't make any sense, Ben. But the doctor did say he's probably suffering from a mild concussion. That could be affecting his memory."
"I guess."
"You guess?" Jasi was pissed. "Look, Ben…I know you hate Zane―"
"Hate is a bit strong."
"Well, you distrust him then."
"And for good reason, Jazz."
She released a pent up hiss. "Stop it! He's a victim, for crying out loud. He didn't ask to get mixed up in this case.
I
brought him in. Look where that got him! Abducted, assaulted and lying in a hospital bed."
"Jasi―"
"Don't
Jasi
me, Ben. He could've died." She hitched in a ragged breath. "Regardless of your personal feelings about Zane, we have to find out what happened to him, get some justice for him."
"What about justice for you," he said softly. "He left you hanging for months. No phone calls, no text messages, no nothing."
"I'm not holding a grudge against him. Zane left me. I got over it and moved on."
"Did you?"
"Yes." The word scraped the back of her throat.
There was a brief pause before Ben said, "I think you've gotten reeled back in, hook, line and sinker. He'll move on again, Jasi. He's not one to stay in the same pond."
"Skip the fishing analogies," she said dryly. "I'm not taking the bait, nor am I flopping around helplessly. When this case is over, Zane'll be out of my life." Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Abby approaching. "Look, Ben, I have to go."
"Jasi, I―"
"Whatever else you want to say on this subject, don't," she warned. "I'll see you and Natassia later."