Cassie McGraw Box Set: Books 1-3

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Cassie McGraw Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 29

by David Archer


  I looked at Dex. “I could?”

  He nodded his head. “You want to know something people don’t want you to know, Alfie is the guy who can find out. I don’t think there’s any information out there he can’t track down, as long as it’s in a computer somewhere.”

  I grinned. “Apparently he couldn’t find Sabrina for you,” I said, being snarky. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have needed me.”

  Dex snorted, and then he chuckled. “He tried, but Sabrina went completely off grid, remember? She didn’t leave any kind of trail to follow in computers, which is why we both thought she was dead. Most people can’t get that far from technology, though, so just about everything we do ends up in a computer somewhere. When it does, Alfie can find it.”

  “Actually,” Alfie said suddenly, “I probably could have found her if I’d had some idea where she went. I can hack into the FBI’s facial recognition software, so if I’d known where to look I could have gotten into the traffic cameras and set up a program to scan for her face. We would’ve found her eventually.”

  I grinned at him and cocked my head. “Facial recognition? Why didn’t you try running it through the drivers license database, then? Wouldn’t that have found her quicker?”

  Alfie stared at me, his mouth hanging open. “Shut up,” he said. “I would’ve thought of it, sooner or later.”

  I giggled. “You would’ve thought of it if you’d known she was still alive and had changed her name. When everybody thought she was dead, there was no point in trying to see if she was driving around, though, was there?”

  Alfie closed his mouth and looked at Dex. “She’s too smart,” he said. “Take her away.”

  “Very funny,” Dex said. “I told you, she looks at things a little differently than the rest of us do, and it helps her to see angles everybody else might miss. Right now, though, she’s got a problem that could use your help. Tell him, Cassie.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek for a second, then decided to take the plunge. “Okay. Alfie, four women have gone missing and the police can’t find any leads. The only thing connecting them all is me.”

  Dex and I worked together and spent the next half-hour explaining the entire situation to Alfie. His eyes were bouncing back and forth like he was watching a tennis match, as each of us tried to contribute something we thought the other had forgotten to mention, but finally he held up both hands and told us to stop.

  “Okay, okay, I think I’ve got it. What we need to do is find out what else these women have in common, right? Well, the first place to start is with communications.” He spun around on his stool and started tapping on one of the many keyboards. “Right now, I’m going into the Tulsa PD system to get all the information I can on the four victims. They’ll have everything in one spot, from names to Social Security numbers. Give me a minute to get what I need, and then we’ll go from there.”

  Dex and I found a couple of chairs and sat down, then waited patiently for Alfie to finish whatever he was doing. Every now and then, he would spin his stool to another keyboard and commence typing again, watching the screen over that keyboard. I think I counted four different computers involved before he turned and looked at me again.

  “I got a bingo,” he said. “You are not the only thing connecting all of these women. Come here, take a look.”

  I got up and looked at the monitor he pointed out. It had an awful lot of information on it, and it took me a moment to realize that he had all four of their cell phone records on the screen. Each of them had a number highlighted, and it was the same number each time.

  “I see it,” I said, “but what does it mean?”

  “It means that each of these women called that number, some of them several times. What makes this interesting to me is that it’s the number of one of your competitors. You work at St. Mary’s, right? All these women, except for the last one, they come to see you there?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” I said.

  “Well, if they were your girlfriends, I’d say they were cheating on you. All four of them called that number, which goes to the Harvest Of Hope women’s crisis hotline. Now, do you see anything else unusual about these phone records?”

  I stared, determined to see whatever it was he was talking about, but after a couple of minutes I gave up. I shook my head. “Nope, sorry. What is it?”

  “Look at the dates of the calls,” Alfie said. “The last call each woman made to that number was exactly 3 days before they disappeared.”

  Dex was beside me, looking at the screen. “Why is that important?” he asked.

  “Because it tells us how long our perpetrator stalked them before he snatched them,” I said. “Since each of them disappeared exactly 3 days after calling that number for the last time, it means they didn’t have a reason to call back again. God, what I would give to know who they talked to there, and what about.”

  “In this case,” Alfie said, “what you can give me is about five hundred dollars. Hang on a minute, all the hotline calls are recorded. Let me figure out what service they use, and I’ll get you those recordings.”

  I looked at Dex, my eyes wide. “Five hundred dollars?” I mouthed silently.

  “I heard that,” Alfie said. “Didn’t you hear me say that I do this as a service? This is business, lady, so if you don’t want to pay up, tell me now, before your bill gets any higher.”

  Of course, I did hear him say that. I just hadn’t realized that I was already engaging his services at the time, but if it gave me a chance to find Wanda and the others and bring them home, five hundred dollars was a pretty low price to pay.

  Besides, money wasn’t that big an issue for me. I had gotten a huge settlement after the fire that burned me, because it turned out there were cops who knew about the things my fiancé was doing and helped cover it up. I put that money into a trust and some good investments, and was living on the interest. Five hundred bucks wasn’t going to hurt me any.

  “No, no, that’s fine,” I said. “Please go on.”

  “Well, it’s gonna take a little time. You can pay me now, and if you give me an email address I can send you the recordings once I get them.”

  I glanced at Dex, who nodded, so I dug into the secret pocket of my purse and pulled out five one-hundred-dollar bills and handed them to Alfie, along with my business card, which had my personal email address on it. He glanced at it and shoved the whole lot into a pocket.

  “Okey-dokey,” he said. “I figure this will take an hour, maybe two. If you haven’t heard from me in three hours, give me a call. Dex has my number.”

  I knew a dismissal when I heard one, and apparently Dex did, too. I mumbled my thanks and we left the apartment. I didn’t say a word until we were in the elevator, and then Dex put a finger to his lips. I waited until we got outside and were standing beside my car.

  “Is he for real?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Dex said. “Absolutely for real. If Alfie tells you he can do something, you can bet on it and win.”

  “And this is just business for him? You realize he’s in there breaking laws, right?”

  Dex laughed. “Alfie subscribes to the theory that the law isn’t broken unless you get caught,” he said. “So far, it’s proved pretty accurate for him.”

  I rolled my eye. “Okay, fine,” I said with exasperation. “Give me his number.”

  Dex read it off to me and I put it into my contacts, then I got into my car and headed back to my office. I got there just in time for my next appointment, who turned out to be nothing but a waste of time. She seemed more interested in what kind of free services might be available if she was being abused than in telling me what kind of abuse she might have suffered.

  We get those, in this business. There are some people who will claim to be victims of any kind of disadvantage if they think there’s some kind of freebie in it for them. Marsha had warned me about them when I started, but I was pretty good at spotting them on my own by this time. I got halfway through her intake f
orms before I was sure, then I turned and grinned at her.

  “I’m pretty sure I can find something for you,” I said in my most sinister-sounding voice. “You can always come stay at my place for a while.”

  Needless to say, she suddenly had other places to be. I sat in my office as she left, and it was only a moment later that Angie stuck her head in to ask me what on Earth had happened.

  “Why?” I asked.

  Angie glanced down the hall as if to make sure the woman had actually left the building, then looked at me again, her eyes wide. “Because she was on the phone as she left here, telling someone that there’s a demon working here, trying to steal souls.”

  I cracked up. “I’m pretty sure she was talking about me,” I said when I got myself under control. I gave her the same evil smile and did an impersonation of Gollum from Lord of the Rings. “She didn’t like us, Precioussss,” I said.

  Angie swallowed hard, then looked at me and said, “You’re just playing, right?”

  I cracked up again.

  Since it was Friday, it was my day to be last out of the office. I didn’t have any more clients, so I sat up front with Angie for a while. She had a radio on her desk and we were listening to music while we chatted. I guess she had gotten over the little scare I had given her, because she was back to being her normal, friendly self.

  Suddenly, the music stopped. “We interrupt our regular programming to bring you a special news bulletin. The Tulsa Police Department is seeking any information regarding the abduction of twenty-two-year-old Candace Lawson from a downtown parking garage earlier this afternoon. Security video footage from the garage shows Ms. Lawson being forcibly dragged into a van, which was then quickly driven away. Unfortunately, the video was not able to get a clear image of the driver or the license number of the vehicle. It is described as a white late-model Ford van, and was last seen leaving the parking garage at the corner of West First Street and South Boulder Avenue at around one thirty this afternoon. Anyone with any information is asked to contact the Tulsa Police Department at 918-555-4222. We now resume our regularly scheduled programming.”

  Angie and I looked at one another, and then she turned to her computer quickly. A moment later she looked back at me. “Oh, my God,” she said. “Candace Lawson, she called early this morning and wanted to see you. I scheduled her for Monday, I just forgot to mention it.”

  My heart sank. This time, my nemesis had managed to snatch a woman before I even met her. How could he possibly have known she was going to be seeing me?

  I got up and went back to my office, then called Alfie. He answered on the second ring.

  “Give me a thrill,” he said.

  “How about a chill? Another woman has just been abducted, and this time our kidnapper is moving a lot faster. This woman called this morning and asked for an appointment to see me, but I wasn’t here, so they set her up with one for Monday.”

  “Hang on, hang on,” he said. “Okay, we are talking about Candace Lawson, right? I just got her information from the PD, now I’m getting into her cell phone records. Give me a minute, hang on.” He put me on hold, and I sat there for almost a minute. I was just about to get frustrated and hang up when he came back. “You ready for this? Candace Lawson called Harvest of Hope last three days ago at just about one thirty in the afternoon.”

  I sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. “That’s almost exactly the same time she was abducted,” I said. “What about the times on the other calls? I know Wanda was abducted somewhere between eight thirty and nine a.m. on Monday.”

  “Checking, checking—got it, here it is. She called HOH at eight fifty-one on Friday. This clown has a thing for punctuality, I think.”

  “But why? Why is he trying to time it down to the minute?” I thought about it, letting it run through my mind and bounce around from different angles, and suddenly it hit me. “Alfie, can you look at their phone records for the weeks prior to that one? Did they happen to call around the same time then?”

  “You’re gonna owe me a bonus,” he said. “Okay, Wanda called them on three different occasions, all between eight thirty and nine a.m., however. I’m looking at some of the others. Bernice Montoya called them several times, always between two thirty and three, Connie made five calls, all of them between twelve thirty and one, Carolyn called three times, always between seven and eight in the evening, and Candace called them three times and each call was between one fifteen and one forty-five. We have a definite pattern.”

  “No, what we’ve got is a clue. These women all called around the same time of day because it was a particular time of day when they were alone. Let’s face it, women don’t want to talk about the abuse they suffer at home with other people around, so by repeatedly calling back around the same time, they’re telling someone that they are generally alone at that time of day.”

  “So all the perp has to do is follow them around until the right moment, right? Dex was right, you do think outside the box. By the way, I threw in a freebie for you. I tried pinging the GPS on all their cell phones, but they all come up blank. Means the phones are shut off and don’t have batteries in them, most likely.”

  “I’m sure the police would have tried that by now, anyway,” I said. “Keep digging around, and don’t worry. You’re going to get your bonus.”

  “Wait, don’t hang up,” Alfie yelled. “I just finished getting those recordings for you. I’m sending them to your email right now, but there is something fishy about them.”

  “Fishy? What do you mean?”

  “Just listen to them,” Alfie said. “I’m not sure what it is I’m hearing, but it isn’t anyone talking about spousal abuse. Also, I got a couple of other recordings from that line, calls that were connected to these phones. Whoever this guy is that these ladies were talking to, I can’t find him talking to anyone else.”

  My eyebrow came down half an inch. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  “Hey, lady, I’m hoping you’ll be able to tell me. Unless this guy only takes particular calls, I’m at a loss to explain it.”

  He hung up, and a moment later my phone chimed to tell me I had received emails. I sat down at my computer and logged in through the browser, because my phone’s speaker isn’t the clearest.

  Wanda’s recording was first. “Harvest of Hope hotline,” said a male voice.

  “Hi. It’s Wanda.”

  “Hi, Wanda. How are you today?”

  “I guess I’m okay,” Wanda said. “Same old, same old, you know? Just have to deal with it, I guess.”

  “Now, you know that’s not true. You can leave whenever you want to, we talked about that.”

  “Yeah, but the kids, you know? They love their dad, and—I love him, too, I just get so frustrated with him sometimes.”

  “I understand. Have you thought about what we talked about?”

  “Ha,” Wanda said. “I think about it all the time, but there really isn’t anything I can do about that. It sounds great, but it could ruin everything.”

  “Yes, you keep saying that. But I notice you keep calling back.”

  Wanda giggled, and it startled me. “Well, maybe I should stop calling. Then you could spend more time on the women who need you.”

  “Wanda, I think you need me. Don’t you? Come on, be honest.”

  “Maybe,” Wanda said softly. “I wish we didn’t have to be so sneaky and mysterious. It makes it seem dirty, you know? I don’t want to be dirty.”

  “Wanda, there’s nothing dirty about needing to feel like you matter. There’s nothing dirty about needing to feel like the attractive woman you are. We don’t have to spend a lot of time together, because it isn’t about quantity as much as about quality. All I want to do is show you that your feelings, your needs, they really do matter.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” Wanda said, “you make it sound so good. I’m just—I’m just not ready yet. I mean, it might be different if I actually knew you, if I knew what you look like and what yo
ur name is. And yes, I understand you can’t give me your name over this line. I’m not complaining, I’m just saying.”

  “I know, I know it’s hard. And no, I can’t give out my name because the computer is programmed to listen for it. If I tell you my name, I would be in all kinds of trouble. Unfortunately, I see my supervisor coming this direction. I’m going to have to get off the phone for now.”

  “Wait, when can I call again?”

  “Well, I need to concentrate on work for little while. How about one week from today? The same time as now, call me then. Gotta go.”

  The recording ended. I sat there and stared at the monitor, completely blown away by the fact that a crisis counselor was using his position to try to start an illicit affair with a potential client. It made me furious, and I grabbed my phone to call Alicia.

  And then I put it down. There was no way on Earth I could explain how I came by this information, so I would probably only end up being arrested. Since going to jail wasn’t on my to-do list for the day, I decided to think about it for a bit, first.

  I listened to the other calls, from Bernice and Connie and Candace. They were all just about the same, with hints of a potential affair. I was disgusted to say the least, but I wanted more information. I called Alfie back.

  “Light my fire,” he said as he answered.

  “You get to earn more money,” I said. “I want every recording of the calls these women made to that number. It sounds like he was trying to set them up for an affair, and I want to nail this son of a bitch.”

  “I anticipated you,” Alfie said. “I already went after those other recordings, but here’s another little conundrum. They are all gone.”

  “What you mean, they’re gone? Those recordings are supposed to be kept for three years, I think.”

  “Nevertheless, they are gone. Deleted, wiped, erased. As in, not there anymore.”

  I shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “If he was covering his tracks, I could see going in and erasing those recordings, but why would he leave the ones we got?”

 

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