Sam placed his hands on her shoulders. “You will find her. But right now, you’re too stressed and tired to find her. You need rest. I won’t sleep until we find this guy’s apartment, ok?”
She nodded and rubbed her temples. “Is the couch in the office still open?” she asked.
Sam smiled. “If it’s not, it will be.”
Emily sighed. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and forget the nightmare she had just been through. She was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.
Sam rubbed his sleepy eyes and looked over Nate’s shoulder. He couldn’t quite figure out what his partner was looking at. It was either financial statements or real estate sales, but he couldn’t decipher which one in his sleepy state.
“I can’t find anything registered to Troy or Bruce,” Sam huffed.
Nate looked up at him and pushed him back a little ways. He began to tap his finger on the table.
“Nate, it’s late. I don’t have the patience for games. What are you thinking?”
Nate stopped tapping his fingers and steepled them under his chin. “I may have a way to find this information, but it may take me a while to get a hold of him.”
Sam sank into his desk chair. “If it gets us off this case faster, then do what you have to do.”
Nate shrugged and picked up his phone. He had to redial five times before someone finally picked up the phone.
“Quinn,” Nate said with a smile, “I need some information.”
Sam almost rolled his eyes. Quinn was Nate’s younger brother. He was also an ex-criminal, having done time for theft and art forgery. Sam wasn’t really sure if he trusted Quinn or not.
“Yes, it’s for a case,” Nate continued. “Ok. Here it goes. I need to know if there are any apartments in my area being leased to a Troy Herman or a Bruce. No, I don’t know the last name. Why do you need it? Fine, I’ll get it.” He lowered the phone a bit. “Do you think Bruce’s last name is also Herman?”
Sam shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. Go ahead and give him that.”
Nate put the phone back to his ear. “Yeah, I’m still here. Ok, Bruce’s last name is also Herman. Yes, I need to know about any rentals, under the radar or not. Ok. Thank you. Talk to you then.” He hung up. “He’s going to call me back with the information.”
Sam nodded and leaned back in his chair. This had been a long day. It was now almost six in the morning. He had been awake twenty-four hours without a bit of rest. Oh, boy, was that fun. And he did say that sarcastically. He could barely think straight for lack of sleep. Maybe, if he just closed his eyes for a moment, he would feel better.
The next thing he knew, Nate was shaking him awake. He opened his eyes to see bright sunlight streaming through the east windows. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.
“What time is it?” he asked.
Nate glanced at his watch. “Seven forty-five. Quinn called me back about ten minutes ago. He found an apartment being leased by one Bruce Namreh. Yes, that’s right, he just spelled his name backwards. Because that’s original.”
Sam reached into his drawer and pulled out his gun. “Ok. Let’s go.”
“Um, Sam?” Nate asked.
Sam turned mid-step and raised an eyebrow.
“You promised to take Emily with you. She’ll kill you if you don’t.”
Sam looked over to the couch where Emily was sleeping soundly. He had promised to take her with them, but he didn’t want to interrupt such a peaceful sleep. It was a hard decision. He finally decided he would rather have her with him instead of having to explain why he left her behind.
He trudged across the room and gently rested a hand on Emily’s shoulder.
She sat straight up and glanced quickly around the room. Sam thought that she somewhat resembled a squirrel.
“We found her,” he said quietly.
Emily swung her feet off the couch and slipped them into a pair of sneakers that Loretta had allowed her to borrow. While trying to straighten her extremely messy hair, she stood up and began to walk toward the door.
Sam grabbed a coat, also a lender from Loretta, and ran to catch up with her. He silently tossed the coat onto her shoulders.
Emily slipped her arms into it and smiled up at him. “Thanks,” she said sleepily.
“You’re welcome,” he answered. He continued to the car.
Thankfully, by the time she reached the car, Emily was completely coherent. “Where is she?” Emily asked first thing as they pulled out of the parking lot.
“Like Bruce said, in his apartment. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t hide his tracks very well. Nate has connections.”
“Yeah,” Nate interjected, holding the word out long. “About that. Quinn asked to be there when we raided the place, just to make sure that things go smoothly. Don’t ask me why, I already know that my brother is weird. It was the only way to get the info out of him, so I told him to meet us there.”
Sam shrugged. “Alright, then. A bit odd for a man who has been missing for months to ask for something like that, but ok. You’re right, he is strange.” He couldn’t believe that Quinn, ex-criminal and charmer extraordinaire, would ask for something like that for no reason, but maybe he could trust him just this once.
Emily cleared her throat from the back of the car and Sam turned to see what she wanted, other than attention.
“Nate passed his first turn. So, we need an alternate route.”
Sam shook his head. Emily was such a stickler for things like that. How had she even known?
Nate pulled his smart phone from his pocket and handed it back to Emily. “Ask for alternate directions, please?”
She hit a few buttons and a woman’s voice came over the line.
In three hundred feet, turn right.
Sam had to laugh. Only Nate would have a GPS in his pocket. Anyone else who worked at the Bureau would have just gotten the address, figured out where it was, and drove back roads to get there. But not Nate, oh no. Nate had to be the tech-y one. Simple directions never had worked for the man.
Ten minutes later, they pulled up to the dilapidated old apartment building. Sam pulled out his gun and quickly checked his ammunition.
Nate glanced around. “I don’t see Quinn’s car. And I don’t see Marshall and Jasmine, either.”
Sam nodded. “We’ll wait.”
Emily quickly leaned forward against the seat. “What do you mean we’ll wait? There’s a twelve-year-old girl in there who is scared to death, and you want to wait? That’s not fair to anyone.”
Sam turned to her. “No, that’s protocol. What if Troy was working with someone else and purposefully didn’t tell us about it? He could want us to go in, expecting no one, and we would get shot in the process. Do you want that?” He held his breath, knowing that he was being a little harsh.
Emily shook her head. “No.” She looked sheepishly at the floor. “I’m sorry.”
Sam reached back and lifted her head to look at him. “It’s ok. You’re not a field agent. You don’t think like we do.”
She gave a faint smile. “Maybe if I did, we wouldn’t be in this situation. I wouldn’t have gone home alone.”
Sam rolled his eyes. Why was she so hardheaded? He had explained this so many times, so many different ways.
“Emily,” he said again, “that wasn’t your fault. Like I said, Troy had a gun. He would have shot your escort anyway. He’s emotionally unstable.”
She nodded. “I just feel so…I don’t know. Inadequate? Guilty? Like I could have avoided this whole thing if I had been able to divine a few more details. Instead, I got myself kidnapped. I’m so stupid.”
Sam took her hand in his own. “No, you’re not. Emily, you’re the smartest person I know. You figured out that Troy tried to resuscitate that girl just by looking at the pictures. I couldn’t ever do that. You find antidotes for poisons all the time. I could never be that smart. You’re brilliant, Emily. That’s why I love you.”
She smiled
. “I love you, too.”
Nate cleared his throat from the front seat. “Um…so…yeah. Do you guys always feel this third-wheel-ish when you’re around Jewel and I?”
Sam shrugged with a smile. He didn’t feel like a third wheel, but Nate didn’t know that.
Emily began to tap hurriedly on Nate’s shoulder.
“What?” asked Nate, turning around and casting a confused look in her direction.
“Quinn’s here,” she pointed out the back window.
Sam turned. Sure enough, Quinn Wesley stepped from his car and glanced around. His brown aviator sunglasses, coupled with his dark, short and somewhat curly hair made him look like he had just stepped out of a movie. He could do glamor shots easily, if he wanted to.
“I suppose,” Nate said, “that we should at least get out and say hi.”
Sam shrugged again. Quinn wasn’t exactly his favorite person in the world, but they got along alright. Saying hi couldn’t really hurt anything. Could it?
He crawled out of the car and opened the back door for Emily.
She squinted against the bright sunlight, and then got her bearings.
Sam closed the door and placed a hand on her back. He was sure she was still exhausted from her traumatic experience, and she would need someone to lean on. She wouldn’t admit it, but he knew.
As he and Emily walked slowly toward Quinn’s car, Sam watched the brothers interact. They were both about the same height and build, though Nate’s hair was straighter. They hugged each other and Sam saw Quinn’s brilliantly white smile light up his face.
No wonder he had made it in the criminal business. Women probably fell all over him and gave him exactly what he wanted. The man had stolen jewels, paintings, even bearer bonds, and replaced them with exquisite forgeries. He had served his time in prison. While there, he had made his peace with God.
“Hey, Sam!” Quinn greeted him as he and Emily neared. “The lady looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t say that I can place her.”
Nate laughed. “You probably only met her in passing. Quinn, this is Emily Baker. She runs forensic evidence for the Bureau.”
Quinn smiled at her disarmingly and extended a hand. “It’s my pleasure, I’m sure.”
Sam shook his head at the man. “How can you be so chipper at eight in the morning?”
Quinn laughed. “I think it’s genetic. I’ve always been an early riser.”
Nate snorted. “Except in your teen years. Dude, I had to blow a foghorn at you to wake you up for school.”
Quinn shrugged. “What can I say? Teens will be teens. As I recall, you usually slept in later than me.”
“Still do,” Nate assured him.
Marshall and Jasmine pulled up then, both looking tired but none the worse for wear.
Marshall checked his ammo, which looked really hard considering he only had one good arm, replaced the magazine, and looked at the rest of the FBI agents. “Ok. Let’s go.”
Instantly there were four guns drawn and at the ready. Sam prayed silently that nothing would go wrong. He needed to get this girl out. Not just for his own sanity, but for Emily’s as well.
As soon as the guns came out, Quinn gently took Emily’s arm. “I think we should stay at the back of the line, don’t you?”
Emily smiled at Nate’s brother. He was a charmer. She liked him. She had liked him since she had first seen him. She felt certain that their first meeting had been at the hospital during Jewel’s recovery.
“I think the back is the safest place for us right now,” she replied, motioning to the guns. “Us being civilians and all.”
He smiled and offered his arm.
Emily slid her arm into his.
The FBI agents approached the door very carefully. It was large and metal, with no windows or numbers. There was graffiti all over it.
Nate checked the knob, and found it unlocked as far as Emily could tell. He was about to push the door open when Quinn spoke up.
“Um, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Nate stopped and shot a look at his brother.
Quinn pointed to a keypad beside the door. He then stepped forward and pointed out a protruding wire mounted to the door.
“My best guess is that if he leaves, he sets a trigger system. The door stays unlocked, but if you try to go in without the code…kaboom.” He shrugged.
Sam looked at Nate. “We don’t have a code. How are we going to figure it out?”
Emily wracked her brain. Maybe, somewhere, she knew the code. She searched the deepest recesses of her memory, coming up with very few possibilities.
“It was rented under Bruce’s name, not Troy’s, right?” She asked.
“Yes,” Quinn answered her.
“How many digits does the lock need?” she asked the agents.
Nate shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a keypad. It could use anywhere from three to twenty.”
Quinn rolled his eyes and released Emily’s arm. He stepped forward and slid his aviators off his eyes for a moment, looking deeply at the pad. Finally, he nodded and stepped back.
“It’s a six-digit code.”
“How do you know?” Sam asked incredulously.
Quinn shrugged at him. “It’s a Lock-ness. That’s a six-digit code. Always.”
Emily nodded, still wracking her brain. “Ok,” she said finally, “try 0-8-1-5-9-7.”
Nate stepped to the pad and pressed it in.
“What does it stand for?” asked Sam quietly.
The light on the pad beeped green and Nate headed back to the door.
“That’s the day Lani died,” Emily said quietly. “August 15, 1997. It’s the day that Bruce’s personality split off from Troy’s. At least, that would be my guess.”
Sam nodded as Marshall motioned for silence.
Quinn pulled Emily to the back again and the FBI agents entered the apartment. It was nothing fancy. As far as Emily could tell it was a one-bedroom apartment with a living room and kitchen. It was fairly good-sized for what the manager said the rent was.
“Clear!” Jasmine yelled from another part of the house. “Emily, get in here. You’re going to want to see this.”
Emily gripped Quinn’s arm, expecting the worst. What she saw as she neared the threshold to the living room surprised her. There, sitting motionless in the middle of the couch, was Melanie Bosch. She looked unharmed.
“Why are we standing here?” Emily asked, starting forward. “Let’s go in and get her.”
Quinn grabbed her arms and pulled her back away from the entrance. “You really don’t want to do that,” he warned.
“Why?” asked Emily.
Quinn released her arms and stepped forward. “May I?” he asked Sam.
Sam nodded and motioned ahead of himself.
Quinn reached just around the corner and hit the light switch. Suddenly, dozens of hairline lasers appeared across the room.
Emily breathed in sharply. “Well, Bruce,” she mumbled to herself, “you're a lot more clever than you let on.”
She glanced into the room, trying to see where one laser began and the other ended. No wonder Melanie was just sitting on the couch. She didn’t want to risk setting off the lasers. Heaven only knew what would happen if they were to trip one of those.
Quinn was staring across the room intently. “Well, we’re definitely not in Entrapment here,” he mumbled. “So, that’s out. I don’t have a laser pointer. We have foil, but I can’t get that in there. There has to be a switch somewhere that turns this off.”
“It’s in the kitchen,” Melanie said quietly.
Emily darted forward a few steps. “Where?”
“I don’t know. Just in the kitchen. That’s always where he disappeared to before those came on.”
Emily grabbed Quinn’s collar. “Come on. You’ve been the most helpful so far.”
He smiled and followed her to the kitchen.
“Ok,” Emily said quietly. “If you were going to hide a switch or keypad,
where would you put it?”
Quinn smiled. “That depends on what kind it was. If it were heat-resistant, I would put it inside the oven or between the stovetop and the oven. If not, there are multiple ideas.”
Emily nodded. “For now, let’s assume that it isn’t heat-resistant.”
Quinn nodded with her. “I’m thinking that it would have to be somewhere accessible. Maybe in one of the cabinets?”
“No. Too obvious.”
Quinn eyed the entire kitchen for a few minutes. “Got it,” he finally said. He walked to one of the corners and stuck his arm down in a gap between the counter and the wall. Three seconds later, he nodded at Emily.
Emily took off into the living room, the lasers now off. She flopped down next to Melanie and wrapped her arms around the girl’s shoulders.
“He thought I was Rachel,” the girl cried.
“I know. He…took me too.”
“He’s awful!” Melanie yelled.
“I agree,” Emily said. “If it makes you feel better, he’s in FBI custody. Also, he thinks I’m evil. I’m the one who got him arrested.”
“He was going to kill me,” she said quietly.
“He…he killed a lot of people,” Emily said, trying to be sensitive. “But…there’s nothing we could do to stop it. It was beyond our control, you and I. We didn’t know and we couldn’t have known.”
Melanie nodded and swiped at her eyes. “I just want to go home.”
Emily nodded. “Me too.”
“Who’s the guy with the sunglasses?” Melanie asked.
Emily laughed. That was a pretty good description of Quinn. “That’s Quinn. He figured out where the switch was. The others are all FBI agents. They’re going to need you to tell them everything that happened, ok? I’m sure they’ve called your parents to let them know you’re safe.”
Melanie nodded. “Will I help put the guy in jail?”
Emily smiled at this little girl’s courage. “Absolutely.”
TWENTY-TWO
When they finally made it back to the offices, Melanie’s parents were indeed there. They awaited them at Sam’s desk.
Eminent Danger Page 17
