by Peggy Slocum
Web of Deceit
By Peggy Slocum
© 2010 by Peggy Slocum. All rights reserved.
The ultimate design, content, editorial accuracy, and views expressed or implied in this work are those of the author.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without the prior permission of the copyright holder, except as provided by USA copyright law.
Unless otherwise noted, all Scriptures are taken from the King James Version of the Bible. Scripture references marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.
WWW.ZONDERVAN.COM
ISBN 13: 978-1-4141-1442-2
ISBN 10: 1-4141-1442-7
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2009903578
This story is dedicated to Jesus, my best friend.
I gave him my imagination and
he inspired me with visions and dreams.
He carried me through the impossible and
he walks with me always.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1: Secret Admirer
Chapter 2: The Case
Chapter 3: Vicky’s House
Chapter 4: Sister Sarah
Chapter 5: Kelly’s Apartment
Chapter 6: Web of Deception
Chapter 7: Abduction
Chapter 8: Lou’s Garage
Chapter 9: Recovery
Chapter 10: Safe House
Chapter 11: Interrogation
Chapter 12: The Evidence
Chapter 13: What the ?
Chapter 14: Cracking the Safe House
Chapter 15: Sarah’s Walk
Chapter 16: Jade
Chapter 17: Sunrise
Chapter 18: Road Trip
Chapter 19: Catching Beth
Chapter 20: Are We There Yet?
Chapter 21: Three Can Not Be Broken
Chapter 22: Didn’t See That Coming
Chapter 23: Everything Is OK, or Is It?
Chapter 24: No Where To Run
Chapter 25: Loose Ends
A Moment with God
Acknowledgements
I owe a debt of gratitude to so many of my friends and family who supported me in too many ways to mention completely. However, a special thanks goes to
· my wonderful husband Jack who stuck by my side throughout this whole adventure and made sure there was plenty of action in this story.
· my two children, Kassie and Alex, who listened intently to me read each new chapter the Lord provided.
· my mom, Elsie Wheeler who loved the story and pushed me to publish it every day.
· my family, Dave Gernert, Angela Slocum, Christina, Bob, Amanda, Tara, Tonya, Kristal, Mike, Kira, and Courtney Wheeler for their love and encouragement.
· my sisters in Christ, Lisa Randall, Jeannie Estrada, Katie McDonnell, Janaye McDonnell, Barb Geisler, Krystal Sens, and Marcia Allis who encouraged me with advice and prayer.
· my friend Billi-Jo Pronti who will always have a special spot in my heart.
Chapter 1: Secret Admirer
An aged yet well-manicured finger scans down the list of detective agencies found in the local Boston yellow pages. “There it is—Doyle Detective Agency.” As the words escape the elderly woman’s lips, she picks up the receiver from her phone and dials the number. Her impatience builds as the rings chime a fourth time in her ear. That’s unprofessional, a good secretary should answer the phone by the second …
“Doyle Detective Agency, this is Symphony. May I help you?” a young monotone voice answers. This job sucks—I hate talking to people.
“Hello, my dear, this is Mrs. Freedman,” the elderly woman says in a confident, well-refined tone. “I’m confirming my nine a.m. appointment for tomorrow.”
“Yep, you’re on the calendar, and we’ll see you tomorrow,” the young woman says, trying to end the conversation.
“I have a few questions before tomorrow’s meeting.”
“Of course you do,” the annoyed receptionist responds.
“You sound preoccupied. Is there another receptionist that could help me?”
“No, I am one of one.”
“Oh, so this is a small agency?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps I could speak with Ms. Doyle for a moment,” Mrs. Freedman says.
“Beth is out of the office for the rest of the day.”
“I believe that she mentioned her partner Edwin would be helping with the case. May I speak with him?”
“It’s Elliot, and he is out as well. Would you like to leave a message?”
“No, but perhaps you could tell me a little about Elliot. Is he a good detective? Does he take his job seriously?”
A wry smile widens as Symphony’s imagination replays an Elliot on-the-job exploit …
* * *
“No! No! please don’t drop me!” a man cries, being dangled from a four-story building.
“Drop me? OK.” Elliot lets go of the man and watches him fall to his certain death.
* * *
“Miss? Are you there?” Mrs. Freedman asks.
“Uh … absolutely. You won’t be disappointed. If that will be all …” Symphony tries to conclude.
“Not quite. How does Ms. Beth Doyle feel about punctuality?” Mrs. Freedman interrupts Symphony again.
“She’s never late.”
“Could you please describe her?”
Symphony rolls her eyes. “She’s Irish and …”
* * *
As Symphony describes Beth, a gust of wind blows into a small Boston tavern on the North-side. Beth, a five-eight, Irish ball of fire in her early thirties enters the bar. She lets the door swing shut behind her as she brushes the fallen snow off her Burberry black leather trench coat. Her bright green eyes widen as she scans the dimly lit room for a familiar face and removes her matching Burberry bucket hat, freeing her long auburn curls that flow past her shoulders.
* * *
“Mrs. Freedman, I assure you Ms. Doyle won’t disappoint you in any way.” Symphony stares at the empty waiting room. “If there are no further questions, I am swamped with clients and must let you go.”
“Thank you for your help, dear. I look forward to meeting you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, great.” Symphony says goodbye and hangs up the phone.
* * *
A young woman seated at the bar with long, straight brown hair and blond highlights, waves her arms to get Beth’s attention. “Beth—over here!”
Sam. A bright, white smile forms as she strides to the other side of the room. It will be nice to unwind.
“You’re late.” Sam pats her hand on the stool next to her. “Where’s Elliot?”
“He had dinner plans and told me to give you this.” Beth leans over and gives Sam a friendly hug. “Maybe next time.”
“Elliot turned drinks down for a hot date? That’s messed up. When’s he gonna realize what he’s looking for is right here?” She taps Beth’s shoulder.
Beth scowls at Sam. “Where’s the bartender?”
“He’s in the kitchen. And don’t even try to change the subject. You know you’ve been crushing on Elliot’s six-foot, hot, muscular bod. Not to mention his red-brown hair and bright blue eyes, ever since the first time you met. ‘Fess up.”
“You sound like a romance novel. There is nothing to confess, Sam, we are just friends—Henry.” Beth waves for the bartender.
“In that case, Henry’s been asking about ya. Why don’t you have dinner with him?” Sam points to the
tanned bartender coming out of the kitchen.
“I’m too busy to date right now. I shouldn’t have come out tonight as it is.”
“Hi, Beth, haven’t seen you in a while,” Henry says.
“I know. I haven’t been able to get away from the office.”
“You’re such a girl!” Sam pushes her bottle towards the edge of the bar. “Beth needs a rum and coke, and I’ll take another.” She faces Beth.
“I’ll be right back with those, ladies.”
“I can’t believe you have worked with this guy for five years, and he has no clue how you feel about him,” Sam says.
“Six years and … how exactly do I feel about him?”
“Now, Beth, you know quite well how you feel about him. Every time he calls, you’re there with bells on.”
“Can I get you ladies anything else?” Henry asks as he places their drinks in front of them.
“No, thank you,” Beth says.
“We’re good for now, honey. Thanks.” Sam tosses a smile at Henry, then gives Beth her undivided attention, waiting for her response.
“He’s my partner, Sam; our job requires us to work together all the time. When he calls, it’s usually job related.”
“ ‘Usually’ being the key word,” Sam says, laughing. “How long has he been staying with you? Six months?”
“Seven.” Beth sighs as she picks the tiny cocktail straw out of her drink and begins flipping it between her slender fingers.
“And you expect me to believe that you cared so much about your job that you moved Elliot in?”
“About a year ago Elliot was working on a kidnapping case …” Beth begins to recount the events leading up to Elliot’s suspension.
* * *
“Elliot, you OK?” Frank, the man leaning over Elliot’s desk, asks with a Boston accent. “You look exhausted.”
“Frank … yeah, I’m just going over the Randall case to see if there is anything I missed,” Elliot says, picking his coffee up and taking a sip. He studies his heavyset, middle-aged friend for a moment and then glances down at the pile of paperwork in front of him.
“You were doing that same thing last night. What time did you get in here this morning?”
“I didn’t.” Elliot stretches his arms and legs, yawning.
“I’m worried about you. You’re obsessed with this case.”
“It’s been three months, Frank! I promised the Randall’s that little Suzy would be home by Christmas!” Elliot slams his fists on the desk and lowers his head, his thoughts consumed with the missing seven year old. “Christmas is in two days. What am I gonna tell ’em? We should have just given the guy the ransom money.”
“He’s been toying with us and you know it. And as long as he keeps in touch, we have a chance.”
“Ahem. Excuse me gentleman. The captain would like to see you in his office,” Becky, Captain Aims’ secretary, says.
Frank opens the door to Aims’s office with Elliot behind him. “You wanted to see us, sir?”
“Yes. Frank, Elliot, come in and have a seat.” The captain motions them in with one hand while hanging the phone up with the other. “That was Casey from downstairs. She’s getting a team together to get that Randall girl. The kidnapper finally stayed on long enough to give us a trace.”
“What are we waiting for?” Elliot asks. “Let’s go get her.”
“I’m going to have you sit this one out, Elliot. That’s why I called you in here. I appreciate all the time and effort you’ve put into this case, but you’ve gotten too attached. You’re a good detective, Elliot, but I want you away from this case.”
“What? I know more about this case than anyone else, and I should be there for the bust.”
“Elliot, you’ve become hot-headed, and you’re not thinking clear. You don’t even go home at night. When’s the last time you slept?” Captain Aims asks.
“Thanks, Frank.”
“Don’t go blaming your partner for something everyone at the precinct knows,” Captain Aims says. “I want you to give Frank all the information you’ve got. I’m putting him in charge of this case and you’re going home to get some rest.”
“My shift doesn’t end until four, sir.”
“That’s an order, Elliot.”
“Yes sir.” Elliot storms out of the captain’s office.
“Sir, I understand your decision, but I also see where Elliot is coming from. Let him come with us and stay in the car. When it’s over, he can take the little girl home.”
“No! Lieutenant, this discussion is over. Now get out of here before I take you off the case as well. Understood?”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.” Frank closes the door.
“Here.” Elliot places an arm-full of folders on Frank’s desk. “The small, black notebook has the access codes to get to the information that is on the server. That should be it; just call me with any questions.”
“Elliot … I …” Frank says.
“I know. Don’t worry about it. He’s probably right. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize this case. Just call me when she’s safe.” Elliot wanders away from Frank’s desk with his eyes fixed on the floor.
“Elliot … wait, let me walk you out.” Frank catches up to Elliot and places a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll call ya with the address so you can have a front-row seat. When we have the guy in custody, you can call the parents with the good news,” he says in a low voice.
“Thanks, man,” Elliot says.
“No problem, but no matter what, don’t get involved, or it’ll be both our badges.”
“Of course.”
* * *
“Come on Frank, you guys should have him by now.” Elliot waits across the street in front of the four-story building.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
“Hello?”
“Elliot, we have him, and we’re getting the girl now,” Frank says.
“Sweet. Should I call the parents with the good news?”
“If you don’t, I will.”
“Thanks. Talk to you soon.” Elliot presses end.
Elliot scans with the down arrow on his phone until he comes to Randall and presses Send.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.
The receiver is picked up but there is no answer.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
He hears a loud cry in the background. “I can’t do it, Charles. I can’t bear any more bad news.”
Tears fill Elliot’s eyes as he listens to Mrs. Randall sob.
“Hello?” answers a deep husky voice.
Beep. Beep.
“Mr. Randall?” Elliot asks.
Beep. Beep.
“Yeah,” Charles answers.
Beep. Beep.
Stupid call waiting. It will wait. “It’s Elliot from the police department.”
“Yes, Sergeant, what can I do for you?”
“I just thought you might wanna go get a few gifts for your daughter. Christmas is in two days.”
“Are you saying …?”
“Yes, Mr. Randall. I was just informed they took the kidnapper into custody, and they’re getting Suzy now.”
Beep. Beep.
“That’s fantastic!”
“I hate to cut this short now that I have good news, but I got a call on the other line.”
“Thank you. Thank you. We miss our baby girl so much.”
“I’m just glad I was able to tell you this nightmare is finally over. They’ll be calling you soon to let you know when you will get your daughter.”
“Thanks again. Good-bye,” Charles says.
This better be important. Elliot grabs the other call. “Yeah?”
“Elliot, thank God. Did you call the Randall’s?” Frank asks.
“Yeah, why?”
“I don’t have the details, but after I got off the phone with you, I was told he was heading for the roof with the girl.”
“What? How did this … I just told … He’s on the roof now?”
“Yes, but don
’t do anything stupid, Elliot. We’ll get this under control. It’s just gonna take longer than I thought.”
“Who’s up there?”
“Casey and her team went after him. Stay in your car. I mean it, Elliot.”
“Yeah, OK, Frank.”
“I don’t like your tone, Elliot. Where are you?”
“Already on the first floor.”
“Elliot, stay out of this. You’ll get us both fired. I have a family.”
“Yeah, so does that girl.” Elliot nears the second floor of the four-story building.
* * *
“Help … help! Please, my shirt’s ripping,” Suzy says, dangling from the roof.
“Let her go, and we’ll give you anything you want,” Casey says.
“All I ever wanted was a little respect. I worked more hours than anyone in that place. When it was time for a promotion, they always overlooked me,” Joe, the girl’s father’s disgruntled employee, says.
“Please. My shirt! I don’t want to die, Joe. You promised me I’d be home by Christmas.”
“Let her go, Joe,” Casey demands.
“I was supposed to rescue her. Then they would notice me, but you guys ruined it. Step back or I’ll drop her.”
“I can feel my shirt slipping. Please help me, Joe! I’m scared! Pick me up!”
Slam!
Elliot swings the door open, causing it to bang against the side of the metal roofing that’s leaning up against the building.
“Elliot, get back here.” Frank chases him up the stairs. “You’re not thinkin’. You’ll mess up everything!”
“You can’t be here,” a tall, muscular man says. “Go to the second floor with Frank. Casey’s got this.”
“Help! I’m falling!”
“Yeah, it sounds like she’s doing great. Let me through!”
“No!” The policeman steps in front of Elliot, blocking him.
“Everyone leave now or I’ll drop her!” Joe shouts.
“OK, OK, just calm down,” Casey says. “We’ll leave right after you pull her up.”
