by Dale Mayer
“Actually,” he said, “I should have thought of that earlier. It would give us a timeline and potentially a location.”
He walked to the door first to find another redhead, younger, but much more serious-looking, standing there and hopping from foot to foot, arguing with the guard. As soon as Miles opened the door, she turned her full barrage of questions on him and peppered him continuously. The half-laugh behind him had him turning to look at Vanessa. She smiled and said, “Ruby, I’m here.”
And a whole line of guards couldn’t have kept Ruby contained as she dashed under Miles’s arms and snuck between him and the wall to dart toward her sister. He just rolled his eyes at the security guard, who grinned like a fiend, and shut the door. He headed back to her bedside and waited for Vanessa to introduce them. He already knew who the visitor was, but …
When Vanessa could finally get a word out, she said in a rush, “Ruby, this is Miles. He’s been looking after me.”
Ruby looked at him, her eyes still serious and her brows pulled together into a point on her forehead as she gave him an up-down look. “A security guard?”
At that, he raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I think you just insulted him,” Vanessa said. “He was tracking me down when I escaped.”
“A detective then?”
Miles sighed and said, “My name’s Miles, and I’ll sit over here and work while you two talk. Nobody else gets in though. Remember that. So don’t go inviting anybody.”
Ruby leaned forward and whispered loudly, “Is he always that demanding?”
“So far, yes,” Vanessa said. And the two fell into a discussion about Vanessa’s injuries and what had happened. There were lots of moans and groans and cries and shock and tears as the two women shared stories of the horrors from each side. He sat down and started a text with Nico regarding tracking Vanessa’s cell phone.
We can only do that when it’s on, can’t we? wrote Nico.
Not sure.
Right. A couple social media apps can do that. Let me take a look.
Nico disappeared off the phone for a few minutes while Miles typed in the chat box. He asked Ryker for a link as well. Instantly there was one.
It’s new technology, Ryker told him. In this case, the phone doesn’t need to be on.
Miles typed in her name and then called to her. “What’s your cell phone number?”
She gave it to him, and immediately he typed it in. She explained to her sister that they were trying to locate her phone.
“I’ve been calling it steadily,” Ruby complained. He only half-listened to the conversation until Ruby said, “Somebody answered it at one point in time, and I was sure it was you, and I was screaming at you to answer me. But then a man chuckled and hung up fast.”
Miles glanced at her and asked, “When was that?”
She stared at him in surprise and then shrugged. “Last night. Sometime around …” She pulled her phone out and checked her call history. “Ten-thirty last night.”
“And somebody answered it?”
She nodded slowly. He brought out the sketches that the police artist had left them and held one of them up, then asked, “Do you recognize this man?”
She shook her head. “But, with those glasses and hat, nobody’ll recognize him.”
He nodded and held up the second sheet. “How about this one?”
She looked at it, frowned, tilted her head to the side and then shrugged. “It’s not very distinctive,” she said. “Honestly it could be a half-dozen guys.”
“The jaw is very distinctive,” he said. “Square.”
She looked at it again. “He looks really angry.” She turned to her sister. “Is this the man who kidnapped you?”
“It’s the man who imprisoned me,” Vanessa corrected, making a very fine distinction but also an important one. “I don’t know if he’s the one who initially kidnapped me.”
“And you had just left your apartment and headed to the corner, and that’s the last thing you remember?” asked Miles.
Vanessa reached up, checked her shoulder and said, “I think he jabbed me with a needle, some drug, and then the next thing I knew, I was being swept up and put into a vehicle. At least, I assume so. Maybe he just moved me into an apartment right beside us.”
“That’s a scary thought,” Ruby said.
“Maybe, but it’s definitely an option,” Vanessa said, almost unknowingly.
He stared at her in surprise. “Interesting. You didn’t mention that before.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Didn’t I?”
He shook his head. “Nope, you didn’t.”
She gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s so hard to know what I’ve said and what I haven’t said, and, even as I talk, I get different impressions.”
It was good that she was picking up bits and pieces again, but Vanessa brought up something else that made Miles wonder. He quickly tracked her apartment to the apartment where she was found, and it was literally just around the corner by two blocks. He then went back and asked in the chat box for the intel on every person from her own apartment building that he had earlier requested.
We already gathered the list of names. Two apartments are empty, and we’ve checked all the other residents’ photos.
And no resident looks like any version of the suspect, John Ambrose?
We’ll go back through the photos again, he typed. But two of our people already went through the photos of residents in Vanessa’s building, and they didn’t recognize anybody there as matching the sketches.
And there are two empty apartments?
Yes.
Who are they registered to?
One’s a company, and one is somebody living in Spain right now.
Have either been rented?
Apparently not.
Considering the fact that Ambrose was using an apartment that was owned by a company, sometimes rented out, but mostly empty for three years, I wonder if these apartments are on some site, like Airbnb or whatever, and he found out about its vacant status that way and lived there without benefit of a lease.
But surely, as soon as somebody comes to check out the apartment, they would know someone was living there.
Possibly, Miles typed. But what if Ambrose knew that these were to be listed later, but they weren’t yet made public?
Not sure how that would work, Ryker typed. Other than through active Realtor listings.
Right. And that would take forever, matching current rental ads to properties with no for-sale listings. Then confirming if the places were empty or if the owners were living there and had been for years. No, not an easy thing to locate these vacant-but-not-for-sale-or-rent properties, but, if there was a way to make it work, it would be a great way to find places to stay without having to worry about being disturbed and to be totally off-grid.
Other than firsthand knowledge, Ryker typed.
Right. … Like to be that potential renter whose lease agreement was rejected. Miles snapped his fingers. Damn. It was just that easy. Ambrose would don one of his disguises, would fill out the paperwork with one of his many aliases and waited to be rejected. Or accepted. He could want to be rejected on purpose, giving fake addresses and false references so anybody in their right mind would reject his application. Either way, he ends up with a potential place to stay. Damn.
Ryker, get everybody you have free to contact every Realtor in all the locations where the seventeen redheads went missing and run both sketches by them, specifically asking about people wanting rentals over the last fifteen years. I doubt Ambrose used his real name, so don’t mention any name right now. Just focus on a facial match. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s the best we have right now.
On it.
As Miles mapped out the distance between the two apartments, Miles realized just how damn close they were. A green space was between the two in the middle of the block. He looked over at Vanessa. “Did you ever spend any
time on the other side of the apartments, where that green park area is?”
She frowned and shook her head. “No, not that I recall.”
He looked at her sister. “What about you?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “This isn’t about me.”
He waited patiently for her to answer him.
She frowned at him. “I don’t like the idea that you’re questioning me.”
“I don’t care if you like it or not,” he said calmly. “Any information is important to catch your sister’s kidnapper—remember him?—so answer the question, please.”
She glanced from Vanessa and then back at Miles and said, “I sit out there sometimes with my coffee and a sketchbook.”
“On a regular basis?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Once or twice a week? I don’t know. Why?”
He ignored her sister and looked at Vanessa. “The apartment you were imprisoned in is just across that green space. Go to the end of the block, take a right at the corner, and it’s the next apartment building.”
She stared at him in shock. “That close?”
“Yes, so between the two buildings is the center of that square, in which there’s that green space. And I’m trying to see if he would have found you there.”
“But he took Vanessa from the front of the apartment building,” her sister argued.
“Which would be very easy to track her back to, now wouldn’t it?” And inside, he wondered if Vanessa had been the target or had Ruby been the target? Or did the kidnapper not care, as both were viable? “How old are you, Ruby?”
She stiffened and glared at him, but he wouldn’t give an inch. “Answer the question, please.”
“Ruby, why are you being difficult?” Vanessa asked, then answered Miles’s question. “She’s twenty-six.”
He nodded. “And you are?” he asked Vanessa.
She groaned. “I’m twenty-eight.”
He nodded and noted those down.
“You’re still not explaining why you’re asking me these questions,” Ruby complained.
He snorted. “It wouldn’t take a great leap of logic to understand that it’s quite possible that you, Ruby, were chosen as a potential victim, and maybe it was a case of mistaken identity, or maybe the kidnapper didn’t care, and either one of you would have worked.”
The two women looked at him in horror. Vanessa cried out, “That’s a terrible thing to say.”
“Why? If Ruby won’t answer questions that help me solve her own sister’s kidnapping case just because Ruby has to know every little detail first, then I’ll tell her every little detail,” he said, his tone hard. “And then maybe she’ll take a little more care when she goes home. Plus she won’t hesitate to answer my damn questions.”
Instead Ruby collapsed on the chair beside Vanessa. “Oh, my God,” she said. “I never even considered that.”
“Have you seen anybody hanging around who looked suspicious?” he asked Ruby, his gaze intent on her face.
She suddenly seemed to realize that this wasn’t necessarily about her sister.
Only because she was beginning to understand and to feel some fear did Miles take it a bit easier on her. “Did that never occur to you that maybe you were targeted instead?”
She stared at him in bewilderment. “No, of course not,” she said. “Why would they? We don’t look that much alike.”
“Yes, we do,” Vanessa said. “I know you never wanted to do any modeling, but there’s always been interest in you, and I’ve told you that before.”
Ruby shrugged. “I’d rather pursue my more serious artistic pursuits.”
Vanessa just rolled her eyes at that, and Miles could see it was a long-standing discussion. “What you do with your life is up to you,” he said, “but you haven’t answered my question. Have you noticed anybody suspicious hanging around, following you, looking at you sideways at all in the last …” He shrugged. “Let’s make it a year.”
She sagged even farther into the chair. “No,” she said. “There hasn’t been. What do you mean by a year?”
“Depending if this is the same guy or not,” he said, “redheads have been taken at this time of year for many years.”
Both women gasped and stared at him. He shrugged. “Sorry, but I think you both need to know that as well.”
Chapter 7
“Are you saying this has happened before and that the cops knew about it and that they couldn’t stop it?” Vanessa asked.
“Yes,” Miles said. “We’ve wondered just how good this kidnapper is at this.”
“But …” And words failed her for a moment. “How could they not know something about this? How could they not have caught him by now?”
“What do you mean, them?” Ruby asked caustically. “Why haven’t you caught him?”
He gave her a flat stare. “Because I was only brought in on this case yesterday and just landed in London last night.” That shut her up for now. He glanced over at Vanessa. “At this time of year for the last seventeen years, as far as we know, seventeen redheads have disappeared.”
She swallowed hard. “Oh, my God,” she said. “Is that why I was targeted? My hair?”
He nodded slowly.
She wanted to puke as the concept washed over her. She looked at Ruby to see her hand slam over her mouth as she stared in horror at Miles.
“But that’s so disgusting,” Ruby said. “And now, for seventeen years, this guy has gotten away with it?”
“Before you blame the police,” he said, “keep in mind that these women disappeared from different cities and different parts of this country and other countries and were different ages, not to mention were taken one year apart. However, missing women can only become a pattern when you get multiples of them going missing in the same way. And because their bodies were never found, they were always classified as missing persons, and thousands of women go missing in this country alone.”
“I’m sorry, Ruby,” Vanessa whispered. “I really had no idea.”
“It’s not your fault,” Ruby said. But her tone was wrecked. “I don’t know why all this keeps happening to you.”
Vanessa gave a broken laugh. “Believe me. I’d be happy to have the target off my back.”
Ruby nodded and jumped off her chair, then wrapped her arms around her sister and gently hugged her. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I blamed you for any of this,” she said, crying. “I just wish it would all go away.”
“You and me both,” Vanessa said, holding her sister close.
Finally, when Ruby had calmed down enough, she looked over at Miles and said, “Any chance of getting a cup of tea and maybe something sweet, like a piece of cake or a cookie?”
Knowing the power of the chat window, he typed into the chat box, asking for just that.
She looked at him and frowned. “Aren’t you going to ask the security guard?”
“I’ll see what he can do as well,” he said. He put his laptop off to the side and said, “For two, I presume?”
Ruby, wiping her eyes, nodded and whispered, “Yes, please.”
He looked to see it was almost teatime for them anyway. When a knock came on the door, he wasn’t at all surprised. The women looked at him, both of them a little more afraid than they had been a few minutes ago. He smiled and said, “It’s fine.” Then he walked to the door and opened it to see Nico pushing a trolley. He let him in and closed the door securely behind him. The women stared at Nico, both with big frowns on their faces.
Vanessa looked at him and said, “I don’t think I know you.” Her voice was hesitant, and she did her best to bolster it up, and then she remembered. “Or maybe I do from the hospital?” She couldn’t remember. She scrunched up her face and looked at him.
“Yes,” he said with a smile, “from the hospital.” He reached over and shook her hand. “I’m Nico, and I work with Miles.”
At that, both women visibly relaxed. Ruby got up and saw the full tea service and smiled. “Now this
is what we need.”
Nico winked at Miles. “Apparently anything you ask for …”
Miles nodded and smiled. “I’ve seen it in action before.”
“And did you come up with any new information?”
“A couple things,” Miles said. They walked over to his laptop, and he brought up the map that he had of her apartment. “This is where Vanessa was taken from. This is where she was kept, and apparently her sister used to sit in this green space here to sketch and have tea.”
Nico sucked in his breath. “Ambrose could have been watching her from up there.”
“Maybe. And it’s also possible that they grabbed the wrong sister.”
“And I’ll never forgive myself for that,” Ruby cried out.
“Hush,” Vanessa said. “Much better that it was me than you.”
Ruby stared at her with a wounded look. “How can you say that?”
“Because I’d do anything to keep you safe,” Vanessa said with a tender smile. “You know the older sister is supposed to look after the younger one, right?”
Ruby gave her a look that said she’d heard it before. “Whatever,” she said. “Age doesn’t make a difference here.” She looked over at Nico. “Have you found this guy yet?”
He shook his head. “Not yet but I found something else.” And he pulled something from his pocket.
Immediately Vanessa cried out, “My phone.”
He gave it to her and said, “It appears to still be intact. I’ve stripped it to make sure there’s no added tracking on it, but we have to check the software too. So, although you can take a quick look at it now, you don’t get to keep it for the moment.”
She raised her eyebrows. Outside of turning it on and making sure her contacts were still there, she checked the number of recent phone calls and found dozens. Most of them were from her sister. She handed it back to him and said, “Maybe one of those calls is from the kidnapper. There are four unknowns in there,” she said. “And generally I don’t accept unknown phone calls.”
“It might be,” he said, “but it could be any number of people, like telemarketers, or just a misdialed number.”
