“Was there anyone who struck you an unusually odd or suspicious that you remember?”
“There was one guy that seemed a little off. I remember him because he was wearing a Seahawks stocking cap.”
“You remember his name?”
“I think it was Sanchez on the passenger list I had.”
“Any way you can get me any information on him?”
Jackson’s eyes widened. “Are you thinking about talking with him? If you are, I need to warn you that this guy had plenty of prison tattoos.”
“It’s part of the job, but I’m always careful.”
“You need to be more than careful around this cat. He could probably kill you in about two hits.”
“Vinnie over there offered to give me a few tips before I left,” Cal said.
“Make sure you take him up on it because you’ll need it if you’re going to interview Sanchez, especially if you’re alone. I’ll text you the info I dig up on him from the office, but please protect yourself. I’d hate for something to happen to you at the hands of that guy.”
Cal nodded. “You and me both.”
CHAPTER 12
CAL COULD BARELY MOVE to reach his phone the next morning when it buzzed with a text message from Hugh Dollinger. Vinnie’s fighting tips morphed into a full workout, leaving Cal exhausted and unmotivated to respond to Hugh right away. After Cal groaned to express his displeasure with being woken up before 8:00 a.m., he rolled over in bed to find that Kelly was already up.
How does she do it? I swear she’s Super Mom.
He sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, his feet settling firmly onto the floor. With a stretch and a yawn, he stood and lumbered toward the bathroom. Then his phone buzzed again. Cal retrieved it and stared at the screen.
Hugh had only texted a series of question marks, suggesting that he believed Cal should’ve already responded. Cal sighed and fired off a quick message back to let Hugh know that a phone call would be forthcoming. Cal proceeded to shower, but even that was too long for Hugh to wait as he sent another note requesting an update.
Cal shaved before calling back. “I’m sorry about the delay, Hugh,” Cal said. “I just got back in town yesterday, and I’ve been trying to catch up on a few things, including my sleep.”
“I’m so sorry, Cal. I’m just—I don’t know—anxious about everything. I was hoping you might have learned something.”
“I’m still just in the information gathering stage. At this point, I would be foolish to even attempt to draw any conclusions.”
“I don’t need any conclusions,” Hugh said. “To be frank with you, I’d just settle for a hunch—you know, what your gut is telling you.”
“If you want to know if I think Chase was murdered, I’d be willing to bet my reputation on it. However, that requires more than the circumstantial and experiential evidence I have. There has to be some hard proof before I can get anyone to listen to me.”
Hugh sighed then paused for a few seconds before responding. “I want to go to the cops about this.”
“Now wait a minute, Hugh. They’re not going to listen to you since you’re the grieving father who would likely be perceived as someone just trying to make sense of the whole situation. I doubt they would take any of your claims seriously at this juncture. Just give me some more time.”
“But what if this is just giving the killer more time to escape?”
“The person who murdered Chase is likely just some pawn. I doubt the killer is going anywhere. In fact, he’s probably right under our noses.”
“You’re sure it’s a man then?”
“He or she—I’m just speaking in vague generalities because I don’t know the exact person responsible. I think I know how he or she killed Chase. But that’s not going to do us any good until we know as many details as possible.”
“How soon will you know? By lunch? Maybe by this evening? I want to talk to someone else about this.”
“Please be patient, Hugh. I’m anxious to set a full investigation into motion as well, but I must be armed with more information and facts before I start writing stories about all this. I’m sure you understand.”
“I understand, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with it,” Hugh grumbled.
“Just give me another day or so, Hugh. I promise I’ll have more by then, hopefully more damning information.”
Hugh sighed again. “I guess I can give you another day, but if I haven’t heard back from you by tomorrow at this time, I’m going to speak with someone at that precinct in New York.”
“Those detectives will be the last people you’ll want to call. They will come up with every excuse in the book to shift the blame elsewhere.”
“Are you suggesting that I should call a Seattle precinct instead?”
“I don’t think you should call anyone yet, but if you must, the local detectives are going to have a better chance of solving it for you. Your son’s murderer isn’t from New York—he or she was simply traveling to New York for one expressed purpose.”
“Okay, one more day. That’s all you’re going to get. Just one more day then I’m going to the cops.”
Hugh hung up on Cal, leaving him with nothing to ponder except a plan for how to find out all the extraneous information on Chase’s death in a more expedient manner.
Cal took a shower and was toweling off when his phone buzzed again, this time with a call from Buckman.
“We need to talk,” Buckman said after Cal answered. “I need an update from you. Where are you with this story?”
“I’m still working on it.”
“How’d your meeting go with the bus driver? What’s his name again—Jackson?”
“Yeah, Ray Jackson. It was interesting. He gave me the name of a shady character on the bus that may have been involved in some attempt on Chase’s life. And oddly enough, he lives in South Park.”
“Well, be careful then and keep me posted.”
“Will do.”
Cal hung up and got dressed before going downstairs to eat breakfast. Kelly was cooking some eggs and chatting with Maddie.
“Daddy!” she said.
Cal gave her a hug and eased onto the barstool next to her.
“How’s first grade going?” he asked.
“I love it. I can even read your articles in the newspaper now.”
“So, is reading your favorite subject?”
She nodded. “Daddy, how did Chase die?”
He tousled her hair. “Maybe you don’t need to be reading my articles just yet.”
“Did somebody kill him?”
“What makes you think that, sweetie?”
Maddie shrugged. “I don’t know. He just seems kind of young to die, right? I mean, am I going to die when I’m twenty-five?”
“I doubt it,” he said. “We don’t always know when we’re going to die, but it’s not anything you should be worried about.”
“You’re not going to take a bus ride soon, are you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Good because I wouldn’t want you to ride one and die like Chase.”
“Riding on a bus isn’t what kills you.”
“Then why did Chase die?”
“Well, I’m still looking into that.”
Cal was saved from Maddie’s interrogation by Kelly.
“Sweetie, we need to go,” Kelly said. “Your bus is going to be at the corner any minute now. I need to walk you there.”
“Okay,” Maddie said as she slid off her stool and then grabbed her backpack.
“The eggs are ready,” Kelly said to Cal, gesturing toward the stove. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Have a good day, Maddie,” Cal said before mouthing a “thank you” to Kelly.
Cal proceeded to scarf down the eggs and was cleaning up the kitchen when Kelly returned.
“Nothing gets past that kid,” Kelly said.
“I appreciate the help there. That inquisition could’ve gone on for hours.”
“It’s probably the same one you’re getting from Buckman, isn’t it?”
Cal nodded. “I’ve got a lead I need to follow up on today. I’m hoping this will get some answers, the kind both Maddie and Buckman are looking for.”
“Let me go with you,” Kelly said. “I think it was clear that you needed me on this previous trip.”
“I appreciate your help, but this character I’m meeting lives in South Park. I’d rather you just sit this one out.”
“I can hold my own, Cal. You know that.”
He nodded. “Look, I need you to help me in some other ways.”
“Such as?”
“Do you still have that hacker friend of yours?”
Kelly nodded. “Want me to contact him?”
“See if he can crack into Greyhound’s security footage database and retrieve the video from the last twelve hours or so of Chase’s trip to New York. I need to be able to verify everything I’m being told, and I doubt Greyhound will just surrender it, at least not the full unedited version. They have their own brand to protect in all of this.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do. And, Cal?”
“What?”
“Be careful.”
Cal nodded and then kissed Kelly before getting in his car and driving off. He scanned the radio dial, toggling between the two sports talk programs. After a few minutes, he turned off the radio and spent the time in silence contemplating who could’ve orchestrated such an attack against Dollinger—and why.
Not long after Cal crossed the Duwamish River on the First Avenue South Bridge, he noticed a suspicious car tailing him on one of the surface streets. The driver certainly wasn’t interested in remaining inconspicuous, swinging the car back and forth across the line. Based on the way the man was driving, Cal considered that he was trying to get attention. Initially Cal thought the driver trailing him was just happenstance. But Cal tested his theory by jerking the wheel hard to the right to turn onto a side street.
The erratic driver followed.
As Cal continued along on his route to visit Esteban Sanchez, the trailing driver continued to intimidate Cal by getting inches away from his bumper and revving the engine at red lights.
Cal broke off from the GPS directions to loop around a block just to make sure he wasn’t imagining the pursuit. But Cal’s hunch was proven true as the man continued his tail.
Cal grew more distracted by the driver and wasn’t looking at the approaching intersection. An elderly lady was hobbling across with the aid of her walker. However, Cal looked up just in time to see her and swerved to the right. His car careened into a utility pole and deployed the airbag.
For a few seconds, Cal sat motionless. His ears were ringing and his vision slightly blurred. After a few moments, it returned to normal and he was able to watch the old woman successfully arrive on the opposite corner. He was so focused on her plight that he didn’t see the man storming toward his car.
Cal turned in time to see a hulking man yank open the door. Scrambling to get free from the seatbelt, Cal’s move played into his assailant’s hands.
The man snatched Cal out of the car and shoved him onto the pavement.
CHAPTER 13
KELLY DUG UP THE email for one of her contacts who had helped her gain some information in the past from the dark web. Before her morning workout at the gym, Kelly stopped by the library, which provided a cover for her to communicate without serious fear of reprisal. She held a library card under a pseudonym and wore a hat tugged low on her forehead, refusing to look up.
She hammered out a message to her contact, detailing all of the pertinent information and what she was looking for. Offering to pay with Bitcoin, she waited for a response before continuing her morning. In less than a minute, a man who went by the screen name of RazrsEdge responded, agreeing to help.
RazrsEdge was a friend of Kelly’s first college roommate and had partied through school. In danger of getting placed on academic suspension for less than stellar grades, RazrsEdge decided to hone his hacking skills rather than shoring up his study habits. He raised his grades incrementally while slightly changing past grades each quarter. By the end of his sophomore year, his overloaded advisor sang the praises of RazrsEdge, never remembering what a failed student he was. After graduating and entering the workplace, he realized the most valuable skills he’d learned in college were the ones that kept him there. So, he eventually started an IT support business on the side to serve as a cover for his darker activities on the internet.
Satisfied that RazrsEdge would get the job done, Kelly headed for her morning gym class of hot yoga.
Following the hour-long workout, she was toweling off when the teacher asked Kelly how she was doing.
“I didn’t see you much last week, and I was beginning to worry about you,” the teacher said. “Were you sick?”
Kelly shook her head. “Sorry to worry you, but I was just on a little work assignment with my husband. No big deal.”
“Okay, good. I was wondering. It’s not like you to vanish like that without telling me. So, everything is good?”
“I appreciate your concern, but everything is wonderful.”
“Do you get to work with your husband often? What’s that like?”
Kelly furrowed her brow and nodded slowly. “I don’t have any complaints. We get along great.”
“What were you working on with him?”
“Just a routine assignment.”
“What kind of assignment?”
Kelly eyed the woman closely. “This is starting to make me a little bit uncomfortable. I’m just here for the hot yoga.”
“I’m sorry,” the teacher said, placing her hand on Kelly’s forearm. “I didn’t mean to come across as so intrusive. I just care about all my students.”
“See you tomorrow,” Kelly said as she spun on her heels and walked off.
She glanced in the mirror and noticed that the teacher was still watching her.
Kelly utilized the weight room for a few minutes before showering. When she was finished, she returned to the library to see if RazrsEdge had written her back with any news.
Much to Kelly’s delight, she logged in to find that RazrsEdge had attached a series of video files. Bypassing the message, she clicked play and began watching immediately. Each video was virtually the same: The video was running prior to the stop in Pittsburgh before it went black briefly and picked up after the bus was finished unloading in New York.
No, no, no, no. This isn’t happening.
Kelly scrolled up the email to read what RazrsEdge wrote.
Sorry, but I couldn’t get what you were looking for. It’s apparent that someone removed all those files. Draw your own conclusions. Let me know if you want me to look into something else for you. Regards, RE
Kelly exited the library before dialing Cal’s number. The phone rang several times before going to voicemail.
“Give me a call when you get a chance, Cal,” she said. “I’ve got some interesting news about the footage.”
On her way back home, Kelly picked up some lunch and tried Cal again. This time, her call went straight to voicemail.
Two hours passed, and she still hadn’t heard from Cal. She was starting to get worried. It was unlike him to ignore her calls for such a long period of time, even when he was absorbed in an investigation. He would always send her a text back or respond with a short voicemail letting her know what he was doing. Yet this time he was eerily silent.
Maybe Cal just forgot.
She decided to call Cal’s editor and see if he’d heard anything.
“Nice to hear from you, Kelly,” Buckman said after he answered her call. “Sounds like you and Cal made some good progress in North Dakota.”
“I think it went well, though I’m certain we’ve probably ruffled some feathers with what went down there.”
“That’s a given with Cal.”
“Speaking of Cal, have you seen or heard from him today?”
“I spoke with him early this morning, but I haven’t heard anything else from him since. Why? Is something wrong?”
“Well, he was going to meet some guy named Esteban Sanchez in South Park this morning, but I haven’t heard from him since then. It’s highly unusual for him not to respond to my calls and texts. At the very least, he sends me a note and tells me that he’ll call me at some point. But this time he’s been eerily silent.”
Kelly heard a ding in the background, signaling that Buckman had just received a message. The editor let a few choice curse words fly.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Someone just sent me a link from a thread on Reddit,” he said. “There are people discussing online about how Dollinger’s death wasn’t by natural causes but that he was murdered.”
He sighed before continuing.
“Now we both need to find Cal as quickly as possible. This isn’t good.”
CHAPTER 14
CAL OPENED HIS EYES and everything was still black. The dark fabric draped over his head was stifling, muting a smell of mildew. Hemp rope held his wrists in place behind his back and his feet tethered to his chair. Twisting and turning, he tried to break free from his bindings, but it was to no avail.
The sound of a door slamming shut jolted Cal.
A man with a booming voice laughed mockingly. The only other sound Cal heard was the shuffling of feet across the floor. A moment later, the man yanked Cal’s hood off him.
Cal withdrew and squinted, the light hurting his eyes after sitting in the pitch black for so long. He didn’t have any real sense of how long he’d been here, but it felt like several hours. Craning his neck to see the time on his watch, Cal couldn’t contort his body enough to see the digital display.
“It’s three o’clock,” the man said. “Yes, you’ve been out that long.”
Cal squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them. Redirecting his gaze toward the man, Cal’s eyes widened when he took in the scene.
Dead on Arrival Page 8
