by Dana Nussio
With a contented sigh, he clicked out of the app. Tiles from several news stories appeared on his desktop, earning barely a glance from him. How could he worry about economic downturns and political unrest when the outlook for Soleil Enterprises was downright sunshiny?
But the last headline on the screen stopped him cold.
Toledo abduction could be connected to Michigan murders
“Dammit!”
He clicked on the link that supplied some of the worst journalism he’d seen in months. Michigan and Ohio agencies had refused to confirm any connection between the local murders and the Toledo abduction, but the local TV news, with its online component, had gone forward with the story anyway. It cited an unnamed source.
This couldn’t be happening. He still didn’t have any proof. But Fox’s absence, which had seemed like a minor inconvenience moments before, had become a possible disaster. Now he would have to send his South Florida contact to Boca to observe whether the guy’s mother was really housing a fugitive.
If not, he would chase Fox to hell and back if that was what it took. And if the guy’s fingerprints were on this mess, he would send him to the searing flames himself.
* * *
“Anything new to report?”
Tony startled at the sound of Special Agent Dawson’s voice behind him. Now that didn’t look suspicious or anything. He minimized the file he’d been looking at, hoping his supervisor hadn’t taken a good look at his screen before he’d spoken up. No reason for anyone in the office to know that his research subject had nothing to do with either of their current cases.
“No. Sorry, man.”
He reached back with both hands to rub at the base of his neck. It was killing him after he’d spent the past two hours looking over his shoulder every few minutes. That he still believed someone in the office might be selling information to the highest bidder was only part of the reason.
“What about Golden or Strickland?” he asked to fill the awkward pause.
“No new leads. Still.”
“Westerfield or Roberts?”
“Nothing.”
Roberts. Just referring to Kelly by her last name seemed wrong to Tony after the night before last. Only a few days before that, he would have sworn that sex would be the most intimate thing they would ever share. He was wrong. Now having slept with Kelly in his arms and receiving the gift of her trust in him, despite the ghosts crowding her memories, that was true intimacy.
It also scared the hell out of him. He wasn’t supposed to let himself have feelings like those. He’d promised he would never be that vulnerable again. Yet there he was, a realization that had kept him up all last night, while Kelly slept in her own bed. What was he doing? She’d already rejected him. When it came to women, he never learned.
Dawson cleared his throat. “Where were you? Coming up with some new theories?”
That depended on whether they were talking about their investigation or his personal life. “Something like that.”
“I was saying we’re well past the first forty-eight.”
Tony nodded. They’d both been around cases like these long enough to know that Harper’s chances were running out. The victim’s chances, he meant. More than a few things had changed because of Kelly, even the way he referred to victims in their cases.
“I just wanted you to know that I get it,” Dawson said.
Tony straightened in his seat. He’d drifted again. He had to stay focused, at least there, while surrounded by both enemies and friends.
“Get what?”
“That it sucks your transfer hasn’t happened as quickly as you were hoping.”
“Right. That.”
Good thing his heart rate wasn’t on a monitor, or he already would have given himself away.
“I should have just signed off on your transfer when you requested it, but I thought the Brighton case would wrap quickly, and I didn’t want to slow it down by—”
Tony held up his hands to interrupt him. “I understand. Really.”
Dawson nodded, but then he tilted his head. “Wait. What did you think I was talking about?”
“Hell, I don’t know. My eyes are bleary, my brain’s turned to mush, and I still haven’t come across anything solid to connect the Brighton case to the Toledo one.”
“The TV news coverage was premature, but we’re going to have to deal with it now. At least the local agencies are having to field the calls instead of us.”
“Yeah, good thing.”
“Sorry that the Toledo case has to take top priority.”
Again, Tony said he understood, but Dawson’s apologies seemed extreme. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time the administrative agent had said he was sorry for anything.
“It’s just that if you need to make the transfer now, I can...”
“No, it’s okay.” Tony was careful not to blink or break eye contact. He couldn’t show weakness, or Dawson would be obligated to transfer him, whether he wanted him off the investigation or not.
“I agreed to hang around to close the first case, and I always keep my word.”
“Never doubted that.”
“Then we’re good.”
There was also no way Tony would leave Kelly alone when they hadn’t figured out which task-force member had betrayed them. Could it be Dawson, who was suddenly more willing to put his transfer through? It was exhausting, constantly evaluating all the task-force officers’ motivations for everything they did and said.
“Is this the new spot for a coffee break?” Eric asked as he peeked over Dawson’s shoulder. “And, if it is, may I join?”
At first Tony frowned, but then he leaned toward Dawson and curved his hand next to his mouth to speak conspiratorially.
“He did say ‘may.’”
Eric’s strangeness was the first normal thing he’d experienced in the office since he and Kelly had arrived separately that morning. Since they had to do this every day, at least it was on her way.
“Any word on the Toledo victim’s computer?” Eric asked.
Dawson shook his head. “The analysts are still looking. She had several accounts and was too computer savvy to reuse a common password or similar screen name for each chat room. She was better at it than half of the suspects we arrest.”
“Good thing they’re not all that smart.” Tony turned to Eric. “How’s the activity on the Dark Web this afternoon?”
“Dark and profitable,” Eric said with a frown.
That even the jocular deputy was down showed how much strain the task force was facing.
“Why would today be any different?” Tony said.
Dawson shook his head at them both. “You guys have spent too long online. Why don’t you take a break?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
Eric stepped away, waved and then jogged to his desk as if he wanted to get out before their boss rescinded the offer. Tony couldn’t blame him. He wanted to get out of there, too. He would do that as soon as Dawson left him alone, so he could find out if the “Emily Nikolaidis” he’d just located in Chattanooga was Kelly’s Emily.
But as Dawson backed out of the space, Kelly rushed up behind him, colliding with his back.
Tony had already hopped out of his chair by the time the other agent had turned to face her.
“Whoa, what’s the hurry?” Dawson said. “You trying to beat Westerfield out of here?”
Kelly had her hands up like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been, and her eyes were wide as she looked back and forth between Tony and Dawson.
“Sorry. Wait. What?”
Tony stepped closer to the other two. “Never mind him. Did you find something on one of the chats? Did you come up with a new theory to connect the crimes? Is someone trying to establish a voice chat with you?”
To each of his questions, she shook her head, but he didn’t give her time to fully answer before he asked the next one.
“Let her speak, will you?” Dawson said.
Tony gestured with a circular motion of his hand for her to continue.
“It’s none of those things,” she said and then took a deep breath. “It’s better.”
“Well?” Dawson said.
“What is it?” Tony demanded.
“I just chatted with BIG DADDY. He even brought up again that he wants to get together with INVISIBLE ME. The suggestions he made on the transcript should be enough for an arrest, too.”
“Are you...okay?” Though Tony hated that the words slipped out before he could stop them, he couldn’t help but search her face for the information she wasn’t sharing.
“Why wouldn’t she be okay?” Dawson turned to Tony instead of the police officer.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” she said.
Maybe because she’d believed before, and possibly still did, that this was the same suspect out of her nightmares.
Tony had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting, but she appeared calm. Yet another change.
“What did you tell him?”
“That I thought it was time for us to meet, too.”
“And when will this appointment take place?” Dawson said.
“Yeah. When?” Tony said. “We need to set up a plan to take him into custody.”
“That’s the thing.” She paused before adding, “He wants to meet me in Brighton. Tonight.”
Chapter 19
Kelly tried to keep her shoulders from trembling as she popped the rounded lid on the drink cup and grabbed a wrapped straw from the box. The row of frozen-beverage machines stretched along the back wall, the rainbow of colors and flavors swimming in front of her.
Despite the cranked air-conditioning in the convenience store, her hair felt damp beneath her ponytail, and sweat pooled between her shoulder blades. Was she a fool to believe she could pass for a teenager, even in shorts and a tank top, once the suspect came within thirty feet of her?
“Doing okay in there?”
Tony’s voice coming through her earpiece made her jump.
She frowned at the convex safety mirror in the far corner and then checked the second one above the machines. From experience, she didn’t count on either of the two surveillance cameras to work properly.
“Other than having no place to put my weapon, I’m peachy,” she whispered into the microphone wired beneath her bra and yanked at the hem of her shorts with her free hand.
The middle-aged lady behind the cash register, who was aware a sting was underway, sneaked a peek at her. At least the slush counter wasn’t packed with customers the way it was most of the time, or Kelly already would have given herself away by talking about her gun.
“Don’t worry,” Tony said. “We’ve got your back.”
“That’s what I was worried about.”
She’d tried to make a joke, but even she couldn’t manage a chuckle. It was her fault that this sting had been arranged too quickly and felt disorganized. Even the location was wrong. She should have backpedaled the moment that BIG DADDY had suggested meeting at a convenience store. It had too many windows and few places for backup officers to hide.
Had she done that? Of course not. She’d jumped at the chance to meet with one of their potential suspects and determine whether he’d been involved with the two murders and the more recent abduction. Because of her, they’d scrambled to put the operation together. Tony had worked feverishly to make sure the details were covered, even convincing the nervous store manager to let him set up his surveillance spot just inside the storage-room door.
She shuffled along the slush-freezing units, turning sideways to retain her view of the door while hoping to appear like any other customer choosing from among too many flavors. Cherry, brown cola, lemon-lime and the dreaded blue raspberry.
Again, she suppressed a shudder. Tony had said it was unlikely that BIG DADDY could be him. He was probably right, but that didn’t make this any easier. Even if she wasn’t meeting the ghost from her past, she might be facing off with a predator and a murderer.
“Anyone out there yet?”
“Not yet, but he won’t think a girl who keeps talking to herself is strange or anything.”
That at least shut him up for a minute on the microphone, but nothing could stop Tony’s earlier comment from seeping into her thoughts again. We can’t use you as bait. I can’t. He’d whispered it to her after Special Agent Dawson had hurried to his desk to call the others together.
The look in Tony’s eyes had been so startling that she couldn’t bring herself to remind him that she’d served as a lure since joining the task force. She’d even been tempted to back out of the meeting. Just for him.
She couldn’t think about that now. This was no time to attempt to make sense of Tony’s words or his reaction to the haphazard plan, when she needed to be focused on that store entrance. A suspect could come through it at any moment.
As if she’d commanded it, the door flew open, a buzz sounding in the back room to alert the staff of a customer. Kelly took a fortifying breath and stared up into the mirror. Unless BIG DADDY was a woman in her midsixties who’d zipped a sweatshirt over her nightgown for some convenience-store shopping, this was the wrong person.
The woman grabbed a six-pack from the cooler, requested a specific brand of cigarettes when she paid at the cash register and was out the door as quickly as she’d arrived.
“Not him?”
“Her,” she whispered.
“Already gone?”
“Yep.”
“Take care of yourself, okay?”
“Yeah.”
This time her gaze flitted to the glass front of the store. Circles of light from a pair of streetlights covered most of the tiny parking lot, but outside that area, darkness fell like a heavy drape. The other officers hidden behind that curtain were also privy to everything she and Tony said through the microphones.
Just as she couldn’t allow them to hear too much when she and Tony still didn’t know which team member had betrayed them, she couldn’t let herself read too much into Tony’s context-void words. That might tempt her to trust someone else fully with her safety, and she could never risk that.
Whether to make a point to Tony or to herself, Kelly shifted further down the line of drinks. She placed her cup under one of the nozzles and lifted the handle. The sweet-smelling liquid flowed inside, its blue color too bright under the fluorescent lights.
Still, she sank her straw through the opening at the top and sipped. Her stomach rolled, but she refused to listen to its warning. Though it was a tiny battle, she’d won it.
A few more customers came and went, even a sketchy-looking guy who wore a long coat despite the lingering humidity. None of them showed any interest in a “teenager” dawdling near the slush machines. Even the creepy guy left with a family-sized bag of chips and some salsa. The buzzing door punctuated each arrival and departure.
“He’s late,” she whispered.
“He’ll come.”
Just then, the door opened again. It was all Kelly could do not to roll her eyes at the mirror. The man who entered was probably on his way home from working too many hours at a law office if his custom-made suit and perfectly trimmed hair and beard were any indications.
Like the others, he went about his shopping on the other side of the store. Probably picking up beer at one of the few places still open this late at night.
“Is it him?”
She bristled at the voice in her ear and would have at least made a negative sound into the mic, if she hadn’t sensed that someone had approached behind her. Another peek in the mirror confirmed that she hadn’t been watching closely enough. Law
yer guy stood about five feet from her, smiling benignly at the mirror.
Slowly, she spun to face him.
“Oh. Sorry. Do you need to get a drink? I have to go pay for mine.”
She started in that direction, hoping her walk appeared less stiff than it felt. If he was the suspect, she couldn’t afford to advance first. He needed to be the one to connect cyberspace with real life.
“Wait,” he called after her.
She paused, her pulse pounding, as she turned back.
“It’s you. INVISIBLE ME, right? I just knew you’d be hot.”
He also couldn’t tell a full-grown woman from a minor, even at such a close range. That awful blue liquid backed up in her throat, threatening to spew if he said anything more.
“Sorry. You must have me mistaken for—”
“Now don’t be coy. I know it’s you. I’d know that voice anywhere.”
Anywhere? She’d thought the same thing herself. She’d been wrong. Though his voice was familiar from their recent chats, this man clearly wasn’t the short, thick-jowled monster who’d once threatened her into silence. But none of that could matter now, even if this suspect’s leer caused a shiver to skitter up her spine. She had to know if he could have been involved in Harper’s disappearance, the murders or, possibly, the threats against Tony and her.
“And you’re?” she asked and waited. He had to be the one to fill in the blank.
“Oh, you know, but you must just need to hear me say it again to be sure. It’s me, BIG DADDY.”
The door from the storage room burst open then, and, as the poor cashier ducked behind the counter, Tony emerged, his Glock trained on the suspect.
“You’ll have to do a little better than that at the booking,” Tony said. “They’ll need your real name.”
The suspect startled and then sprinted toward the door. He came up short as Eric stepped inside, his weapon drawn.
“What’s your hurry, buddy? We just wanted to talk to you.”
