by C. M. Sutter
“Okay, thanks, and Frank, you go too. You’re to ask for Lawrence Baker. He’s the night shift supervisor for the security department. Call here the second you have that plate number. I’ll update Commander Fredricks, and he can let Jeff Barry know what’s going on.”
“Will do.”
With the warrant in my hand, Frank and I were out the door and across the lot within minutes. The transit authority station that served the bus stop in question was on West Seventy-Ninth Street.
Pulling into the lot ten minutes later, we saw a small building that hosted an enormous amount of parking spaces, but all that mattered was finding the right person to serve the warrant to—and seeing the footage from bus sixty-three at that stop on Sunday between ten after twelve and twelve fifteen p.m.
We entered the tan brick building and headed for the first counter that had a person standing behind it. They would be able to direct us to Lawrence Baker and the security office.
Frank’s badge was in his hand before we reached the woman whose name tag read Marie P.
“Ma’am, we’re Detectives Mills and McCord from the Chicago PD with a warrant to serve your security department for video footage. We were told to speak to Lawrence Baker.”
“Certainly, Detectives. I’ll show you to his office.”
I nodded. “We’d appreciate that.”
Frank and I followed Marie down a dark-paneled hallway to a large office that looked surprisingly modern and sophisticated. Inside, she introduced us to Supervisor Baker, a portly middle-aged man, and I handed the warrant to him. We explained what we could about the reason for the warrant and said it was imperative to see the bus footage immediately.
“Not a problem, Detectives. I’m happy to help the Chicago PD whenever I can. God knows you’ve taken care of more than enough problems we’ve had with unruly riders. All I need is the date, time, the route, and bus number. I’ll have that bus up on the screen in less than a minute.”
I reached in my pocket and pulled out the slip of paper that contained all the information he requested and handed it to him.
“Appreciate you having it ready for me.” Lawrence settled in behind his desk and jiggled the computer’s mouse. Entering the information I provided him, he was able to get bus sixty-three up on the screen just as it approached the stop. The wide-angle camera lens caught everything out the windshield and the side door.
I pointed at the screen. “Right there! The black sedan that’s pulling away from the curb is the vehicle we need the plate number from.”
“Okay, give me just a second to freeze the recording at our best vantage point.” His finger hovered over the pause button. “There! That should do it. Let’s take a look.”
The car’s rear plate was only fifteen feet in front of the bus. The numbers showed up perfectly, as did the car’s make and model.
“Yes! We’ve got it.” I wrote down the plate number and the kind of car it was. “We’re going to need that footage sent to my email. Can you separate it by time so the file isn’t so large?”
“Yep, I can do that. All I need is your email address.”
I handed him my card with all my contact information on it, then Frank and I thanked Lawrence and left. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Lutz as we walked out of the building. “Boss, we have everything. The car is a Chevy Impala. Can’t tell you the year, but that’ll be on the DMV information. Here’s the plate number.” I rattled it off, told him we were heading back, and clicked off the call. Lutz said they would know the details by the time we got back.
It was nearly eight o’clock when Frank pulled open the door to the precinct. I pressed my hand against our security palm reader, then we took the flight of stairs to our second-floor bull pen. Lutz was sitting in my guest chair when we entered.
I was excited to hear the news. “Well, what have we got?” The somber expressions on the faces of my colleagues told me something was off. I clenched my fists as I took a seat. I knew disappointment was coming our way. “Don’t tell me the plates were a dead end.”
“Not only were they a dead end, they were stolen, and the car has a salvage title that’s still registered to the used-car lot it was stolen from.”
“Son of a bitch. Why can’t we catch a break?” I leapt from my chair. “I’m going home to tend Bandit, and then I’ll help out with the surveillance at the pharmacy Jeff works at. I doubt if those criminals want to babysit Deidra for much longer, so they’ll probably try to hit the store after hours tonight. They’re sure to check it out in advance, unless they already have, but they’d definitely want to see if any cops are milling around.”
“Okay, and I appreciate your offer, Jesse. Street clothes only, though.”
“I’m in too,” Frank said.
Henry added, “And so am I.”
Lutz held up his hand. “I need a head count of volunteers in case something goes sideways. No cruisers, only personal cars, and street clothes only. Enter the store at different intervals, buy something, and then leave. Drive a five-block perimeter around the pharmacy and look for that vehicle. The store shuts down at ten p.m. After that, it’ll be watching from a distance only, and make sure you all have binos.”
Four of us had volunteered to join Officers Tillson, Crawford, Jackson, and Thompson, who had already begun surveilling the area. We planned to go home and change clothes then act like customers once we arrived at the store. Our problem in identifying the perps was that we’d seen only one of them standing near the bus stop, and that footage was grainy at best. Even guessing his age was impossible. All we had to go on was Ann’s description of two men that looked to be in their twenties, and that was from a five second observation through a car’s windshield. We would have to keep our eyes open for two men milling around the pharmacy together, then we’d follow their every movement after they left.
Chapter 30
Rory rifled through the junk drawer, under the sink, and in the pantry. “Doesn’t everyone own some form of rope?”
Wes shrugged. “Looking in the garage makes more sense than checking the pantry.”
Rory sneered. “Then go look in the garage, genius. That bitch needs to be one hundred percent secure before we leave. I’m telling you, it would be much easier to kill her now.”
“You want to kill her before we know for sure the codes are right? We won’t have any leverage if she’s dead.”
Rory closed the pantry’s door. “Whatever, I’m just tired of her. She needs to go.”
“In time. I’ll check the garage for rope.” Minutes later, Wes returned to the kitchen with a twenty-foot length of rope. “This should work. We’ll cut it into quarters and secure each hand and leg to something.”
Rory entered the only bedroom and stared at the queen-sized bed. “We have to scoot the bed away from the wall and move her in here. We’ll tie her to the head- and footboards, put extra tape over her mouth, and leave. It’ll have to do. Then we have to check inside the store and around the back to make sure it’s set up like the others.”
“Don’t forget the exit route. We need to steer clear of every camera.”
“Unless—”
“Unless what?”
Wes walked to the front of the bed and jerked his chin at Rory. “Help me push this away from the wall.”
Rory grabbed the foot of the bed and pulled.
“I was thinking we could use Jennifer’s car while we’re checking out the store,” Wes said. “It doesn’t hurt to mix things up.”
“Yeah, okay. Let’s move her and then head out. You can call Jen while we’re driving.”
Chapter 31
It took only a few minutes at home. With the doggy door recently installed, Bandit could come and go into the backyard as needed. I filled his bowl, gave him a good round of petting, and headed to the bedroom to change into my normal after-work clothing. Ten minutes later, I was ready to leave the house. After grabbing a couple of protein bars from the cupboard, I reset the house alarm and headed out.
“Hey, how far are you from the store?”
“Almost there. I have about five blocks to go.”
“Okay, let’s meet up in the parking lot of the post office on East Fifty-Fifth Street. You call Henry, and I’ll call Shawn. We’ll devise a plan once we’re all together.”
“Sure, and I’ve already asked Lutz to let the patrol units know we’re coming.”
Another mile and I would be there. I waited at the light, and a red Ford Fiesta was on my left. With a glance in that direction, I noticed the passenger was checking out my Camaro. I gave him an appreciative nod and revved the engine, knowing any young man would enjoy hearing the power under that hood. My bright yellow ZL1 got plenty of looks, and although I was used to it, I still enjoyed the stares of envy from everybody who took notice. The light changed, and I continued on. A right and a quick left took me to the post office lot, where Frank was standing alongside his truck, a cigarette pinched between his lips. I parked, climbed out, and waited with him.
Headlight beams bounced on the apron of the driveway to the parking lot. Henry had arrived. We were still waiting on Shawn, and he’d told me five minutes ago that he was ten minutes out.
Henry parked and stood with us. “How are we going to do this?”
“Hang tight, I don’t want to go over it twice. Shawn should be here any second.” I frowned. “Damn it. I should have brought Bandit along as a prop. A guy out walking his dog at night would have made me look inconspicuous for sure.”
“And he would have likely enjoyed it.” Henry tipped his head toward the driveway. “Looks like Shawn is here.”
We gathered at Frank’s truck and discussed how to divide our efforts. So far, according to Tillson’s latest report, they hadn’t seen anyone inside the store who fit the vague description that we’d given them of the man outside the bus stop. Jefferson said they’d combed a five-block perimeter and hadn’t seen the black Impala anywhere.
Either the burglars had already done their reconnaissance mission days earlier, they hadn’t arrived yet, or they planned to wait until they were about to strike just in case police officers were wandering around the neighborhood.
“I’ll walk the first square block around the pharmacy and then hit the store and buy a pack of gum.”
Henry said he would drive the streets behind the store five blocks out then station himself in his car, facing the rear of the store but well-hidden.
Frank would go inside, page through magazines for ten minutes, buy a pack of cigarettes, then sit in the fast-food restaurant across the street and watch out the window, and Shawn said he’d walk the streets three blocks out.
We agreed to mix it up again after the store closed in an hour. For now, we planned to keep our eyes peeled for anyone who might fit the perp’s basic description.
With the plan in place, we each headed off in our own direction and would meet back in the parking lot when the store locked its doors at ten o’clock.
Chapter 32
“Damn, that was a sweet ride,” Rory said. “You saw that ZL1, right?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have quite the close-up view you had.” Wes sighed. “Maybe someday I’ll have wheels like that.”
Rory chuckled. “That day is getting closer than you think, pal. That two grand we scored today is what we can expect every day now that our supply of oxy and antidepressants is building up.” Rory pointed at the pharmacy coming up on their right. “Circle the block a few times, cut through the back lot, and then go back out to the street. Park at that fast-food restaurant. I’ll go in and take a piss, and you head to CMS and check out the inside. We don’t want any surprises.”
Wes frowned. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, like anything. It’s just a figure of speech.”
After parking in one of the open spaces at the far end of the lot, Wes crossed the street at the intersection. He pulled the folded ball cap from his back pocket and snugged it over his mop of blond hair. Then he fished the nonprescription black-framed glasses from the chest pocket of his denim jacket and put them on. Altering their appearances helped the guys remain anonymous, and threatening lives to get the door codes worked like a charm.
Wes shivered in the cold as he stepped up his pace. Although he didn’t want to kill people, the reward was worth it. More drugs meant more money, and more money meant possibly getting a Camaro like that yellow one they’d just seen. He pulled open the door, walked in, and headed to the family planning aisle. Standing near the pharmacy—which had closed hours earlier—gave him the chance to view the accordion-like steel barricade that had been lowered over the counter. He was sure it was locked, and he’d never come across one that wasn’t.
Wes glanced up every so often at the round mirrors positioned above the endcap of every aisle. Sorting through the sale items in the next aisle was a woman with a bored-looking teenaged daughter. In the aisle after that stood a big guy flipping through pages of magazines, and a woman picking through greeting cards. Wes couldn’t see the aisles beyond that. He moved on to the products on the shelves just below the pharmacy counter then looked both ways before grasping the roller barricade with his left hand. He tried to lift it, but as he expected, it was locked and wouldn’t budge.
Those codes better be right, or Jeff Barry is going to be in a world of hurt.
Wes lingered in the toothpaste aisle then glanced at the mirrors again. The big guy had walked to the cashier, bought a pack of smokes, and exited the store. Heading toward the front of the store, Wes saw another guy enter alone and turn down the candy aisle. With a passing glance in his direction, Wes continued on to the exit.
As he crossed the street, Wes saw Rory heading his way. He whispered to his partner in crime as he passed. “The metal barricade is down and locked.”
“Okay, wait by the car. I’m just going to take a quick peek inside.”
After climbing into the car at the back of the fast-food parking lot, Wes stared out the window as he munched on the trail mix he’d found in a zipper bag in the console.
Humph. That’s the big guy from the store, heading into the fast-food restaurant.
Seconds later, Wes saw Rory exit through the automated doors, cross the street, and walk toward the car. He pulled the handle and climbed into the passenger side.
“That was quick.”
“Yeah, I had a weird feeling.”
“About what?” Wes pocketed the glasses and rubbed his eyes.
“The guy with the yellow Camaro was in there. Kind of too coincidental for my liking.”
“So now what?”
“Now we watch where he goes when he walks out.”
Wes tapped the steering wheel nervously. “Did he see you?”
“Nah, I doubt it.”
“I saw a big dude in the magazine aisle and then he crossed the street to the restaurant. He’s still there,” Wes said.
“Okay, go inside and take a piss. See what he’s doing. I’ll keep my eyes on the other guy.”
After cutting between the cars in line at the drive-through, Wes entered the restaurant and headed for the bathroom. As he walked in, he passed the man from the magazine aisle. Wes waited for a few minutes then slipped outside and watched through the window. The man was there, sitting in a booth with a cup of coffee cradled between his hands and staring at the CMS store across the street.
As he hugged the building to avoid being seen, Wes returned to the car and climbed in.
“Well?”
“Well, he’s sitting next to the window and staring at the pharmacy.”
Rory pointed out the windshield. “Check it out. The dude with the Camaro is crossing the street.”
“Son of a bitch, he’s going into the restaurant too. My money says those two are up to something.”
“Maybe they’re trying to take over our business.”
Rory raised a question
ing brow. “That’s a possibility, and we’re going to follow them when they leave. Right now, you need to pull out of here, turn left, and go around the block. Find a spot to park somewhere across the street where they can’t see us but where we can watch their every move.”
Chapter 33
I saw Frank inside the restaurant as I crossed the street. I would get an update, then we’d decide on our next move. We were due to meet up with the guys in the post office parking lot in fifteen minutes, and by then, CMS would be closed until eight o’clock tomorrow morning.
Inside the restaurant, I slid into the bench seat across from Frank. “Anyone look suspicious in the store?”
“Didn’t seem so. I glanced up at those mirrors to check the other aisles every so often. Caught a glimpse of a guy looking at condoms, a woman and teenaged girl browsing through sale items, and another woman looking at greeting cards. Other than those few people, only the employees were inside. Kind of quiet.”
I rubbed my chin as I thought. “Same here. Ten o’clock might be too early for them to be out and about. I think we’ll be pulling an all-nighter.”
“Or Patrol can. That’s their job after all.”
“Right, but they can’t be seen near the store in their squad cars. That’ll definitely sign Deidra’s death warrant. Let’s head back to the post office. I’ll call Tillson, tell him to gather his units to meet us there, and we’ll formulate our next move then.”
Frank finished his coffee and tossed the cup in the garbage can on our way out. We headed for the parking lot with a few more blocks to go. Frank, already on his second cigarette, complained about the price gouging for smokes at CMS.
“I have a novel idea.”
He smirked, knowing full well what I was about to say. “What, buy them through a discounter?”
I laughed. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was about to suggest. When was the last time you went on a full-out run?”
He shrugged. “Haven’t found a reason to.”
“Then there’s no time like the present. Last one to the cars has to buy dinner at Gibson’s on our next Saturday night off.”
