Power Struggle

by Carolyn Arnold

  CHAPTER

  32

  MADISON STOPPED SHORT OF THE department car. Her body felt heavy, weighed down and grounded to the pavement.

  “Maddy?” Terry asked, seeming to have sensed her predicament.

  The flick of the curtain moving in Troy’s front window caught her eye. Troy and Jim were looking out.

  “Let me drive,” she said.

  “I don’t think you should,” Terry began. “You’re under a lot of stress.”

  She couldn’t argue with him, but she felt like she would be more in control if she could just be behind the wheel. “Please.” She held out an open hand.

  “Fine, but be careful.” He passed over the keys.

  They both got in and buckled up.

  Terry turned to her. “We’ll find her and get her back safe.”

  “Everyone has to stop saying that,” she barked. “We don’t know that she will be.” She hated how she was bouncing back and forth between hope and defeat. She met her partner’s gaze. “I wish I had your confidence…Marissa’s confidence. But what if we don’t—”

  “No,” he said firmly. “We’re not going to think about that. Nothing good will come of it.”

  She loved his conviction and just hated feeling so damn weak and vulnerable. Part of her had always lived in a world of hesitation, wondering when the ground would fall out from beneath her. Everything had been going great in her life… So was it time for the ground to drop?

  She put the car into gear and took off.

  The gas station was about twenty minutes from Troy’s, but she’d make it in record time. She flicked on the lights and sirens.

  As she raced across the city, thoughts of Chelsea haunted her. She was likely alone and terrified. And who knew what the hell that monster had done to her or was doing to her now.

  Madison’s pulse sped up as images layered on top of one another… Constantine above her on the couch about to—

  “It will only hurt a little.”

  “Madison!” Terry grabbed the wheel and cranked it to the right. She slammed on the brakes.

  She blinked, tears seeping from the corners of her eyes. As her vision came into focus, she realized that she was in the middle of an intersection. The light facing her was red. The hood of another car was mere feet from her driver’s-side door.

  Terry turned off the lights and sirens. “Clear the intersection,” he directed her. “Pull over there.” He pointed to a free parking spot at the curb.

  She eased onto the gas pedal and did as he’d told her to. Once she had parked, he reached over, turned off the car, and pulled the keys from the ignition.

  Terry’s face was bright red. “You could have killed us.”

  She pinched her eyes shut and counted to ten in her head.

  “Madison? Do you hear me?” Terry touched her shoulder, and she flinched.

  A few tears fell, but she shook her head, sniffled, and looked over at him. “If Constantine lays a fucking hand on her—”

  “He’ll wish he hadn’t,” Terry finished.

  “That’s damn right.” She was nothing but an ice-cold, dark, empty shell. She wiped her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Terry.”

  “For swearing?” He waved her off. “That’s understandable right now.”

  “Not for that. For almost killing us.”

  “Oh, that little thing…” He was doing his best to make light of what had happened but wasn’t convincing. “Come on, let’s switch places and get going.”

  They got out, and the driver of the car that had almost hit them had parked on a side street and was yelling at her. Madison had to admit their swearing was understandable, too. Lights and sirens aside, she still should have checked all directions before entering the intersection, but she’d just blown through.

  With both of them back in the car, and Terry behind the wheel, they got moving again.

  “If Constantine doesn’t plan to hurt her, and he’s using her as bait to get to me, why hasn’t he contacted me yet?” Her heart was fracturing.

  Terry glanced over at her. “Because he wants to shake you.”

  She hated to admit that it was working. The silence was unsettling.

  “He’s not going to kill her,” Terry said.

  His words sounded good, but that’s all they were. There was no guarantee. “And how do you…know that?” She swallowed the harsh reality that life could be unpredictable and heartless, but that didn’t mean it settled well in her stomach.

  “He’s all about mind games, and I bet he’s simply using your sister to play with you.”

  “But so much time has already passed.”

  “Every step he’s made since he left that note on your windshield has been to taunt you. Sending that e-mail to your mother? He just wants you to suffer for a while.”

  “Well, enough already.”

  Terry pulled into the gas station and parked near the storefront. There was only one car filling up at one of the four pumps.

  Madison and Terry both got out of the car and headed toward the entrance. She dismissed the negative thoughts creeping in telling her that coming here was a futile exercise. For one, the people who had been working this morning might have already finished their shifts, and two, even if they could get the surveillance video, it might not provide them with anything to go on. After all, this was the intersection where Chelsea was this morning at eight thirty. That was hours ago. It was going on five in the afternoon now.

  She was reaching for the door when her phone chimed with a new text message. She let her hand drop and stepped to the side, staying outside. Terry followed suit.

  “Who is it?” he asked before she even had her phone out.

  Bile rose in her throat as she pulled her phone from her pocket. What if it was a message from Constantine? A picture of her sister…

  “It’s my parents.” She read the message: Plane will be in about midnight. Need to be picked up.

  She gripped her phone. Maybe she should have regretted not calling them about Chelsea, but she didn’t. Was it so wrong that she wanted to be armed with something before letting them know Chelsea was abducted by a Mafia hit man?

  “What is it?”

  “It’s official. My parents are on their way.”

  “It’s probably not a bad thing that they are,” he said.

  “It’s probably worse.” She could imagine the conversation with her mother already. How she’d back Madison into a corner and force her to defend herself. But, really, wasn’t that where she was already? She couldn’t feel any more responsible.

  Terry cocked his head. “Come on.”

  “Listen, you might think I’m exaggerating, but trust me, I’m not. My mother as good as hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you.”

  “She disapproves of me, and this isn’t a new conversation for us.”

  “You’re, what? Thirty-six. You don’t need her approval. Besides, you’ll always be her daughter.”

  “Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?”

  “Which effect is it having?”

  She scowled and rolled her eyes.

  He held up his hands. “Hey, don’t say I didn’t try.”

  Nope, I won’t say that… Sarcasm all the way.

  She sent a quick text to her mother to let her know she’d be there to pick them up and then fired one to Troy as a heads-up. “All right, I’m ready.” She put her phone away, and Terry grabbed the door.

  “Go ahead,” he said.

  There was a gangly twentysomething male behind the counter, who saw them and quickly diverted his gaze. He was either shy or figured them for cops and was hiding something.

  She thought she’d get right to it. She pulled out her badge. “Detectives Knight and”—she gestured to her partner—“Grant.”

 
The guy slowly drew his eyes up to meet hers. Definitely shy.

  “Were you working this morning?” she asked, starting with the basics.

  “Y-yes,” he stuttered nervously.

  “In that case, we have a few questions for you.” She took out her phone again and brought up a photo of Chelsea. She extended the screen toward the clerk so he could see. “Do you recognize this woman?”

  The guy leaned forward, really studying the photo. “Yeah. She comes here sometimes.”

  Madison did her best to tamp down the bit of excitement his acknowledgment brought her. “Do you remember her from this morning?”

  “Hmm.” He tapped his chin with an index finger a few times. “I think so.”

  “What time?”

  “Don’t know exactly. Around eight thirty?”

  “Was she alone?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “There was a guy in the front passenger seat. I remember him because he was big. Like tall and solid, not fat. His head was almost hitting the ceiling of the car.”

  She drew back her phone, pulled up a picture of Constantine, and held it out for him to see.

  He nodded. “Yes, that’s him.”

  Her breathing quickened, and she stepped away, turning her back to Terry and the clerk.

  “When she pulled in, was he already in the car?” Terry asked, taking over the questioning.

  “Yeah.”

  So where had Constantine hijacked Chelsea? Given the time of day, it seemed likely that Chelsea had dropped the girls off and had come right here. So Constantine had either abducted her at the school after the girls had left the car or…

  Madison’s skin went clammy as another possibility struck. He could have been waiting in the trunk. He had been in the house to take the picture, after all. And he’d sent the e-mail at 8:03 this morning. It could have been when Chelsea was leaving with the girls. Doing so, though, he’d risked her mother seeing the e-mail earlier in the day. But Constantine would know that no matter how quickly her mother got the message, it would be too late. It had to be another ploy to further upset Madison. A matter of being close but just out of reach.

  He could have waited it out in the garage, then the trunk. Typically, Chelsea would have no reason to go in there, not that Madison could imagine anyhow. Even if she brought her gym bag along when she had the girls, they’d be in the backseat and she’d have plenty of room in the front. Maybe she wasn’t going to work out until later that day. Either way, Constantine risked being spotted with the girls around. Her blood ran cold at the thought of that man taking all four of them.

  Madison turned around. “Did you happen to see which direction they went in when they left?” It might be a reach, but it could be faster than waiting on access to video footage from the gas station or the city.

  He nodded. “They used the west exit and went south.”

  That would take them to a rural area that went on for miles. Add to that, they could have turned onto the interstate and gone who knows where.

  “Wish I could help more than that,” the clerk said genuinely.

  “Do you have surveillance cameras?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Inside and out.”

  “We’ll need the footage from this morning.” She presented it as if he didn’t have an option.

  The clerk winced. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give it to you. My manager will be—”

  “Someone from the Stiles PD will be in touch with a warrant.” She left for the door.

  Outside, she turned to Terry. “I think Constantine was waiting on Chelsea in the trunk of her car. It would be easy enough to get from there into the backseat. Most cars have seat release pulls in the trunk, and I’m sure Chelsea’s Fusion has them.”

  Maybe she was jumping to a conclusion, but right now, that theory was probably the most logical. If he’d intercepted her at the school, it was likely someone else would have seen it, including the officer posted there. Of course, he could have pulled it off in such a way that wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

  “Okay, here’s the thing,” Terry began. “Assuming Constantine got into your sister’s house while the family was asleep—so either sometime during the night, or in the wee hours this morning—I’d like to know how. Surveillance was in place.”

  Her insides churned as the answer sank in the pit of her stomach. “They were posted out front, but their backyard butts against a neighboring one.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. We need to get to Chelsea’s and get clothes for everyone, but I also want to see if the bastard left any clues there.”

  Terry nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  “I’ll call Cyn to tell her what we’re thinking, and then I’m calling Winston to arrange for a meeting.” As much as Madison would love to go it alone sometimes, handle situations solo, there were benefits to having others by her side. And she couldn’t be everywhere at once. If she wanted her sister back alive—and sooner rather than later—the best course of action would be to assemble everyone. Sometimes more heads were better than one.

  -

  CHAPTER

  33

  HIGGINS WAS STILL OUT FRONT of Chelsea’s house. The forensics van was there, too, and that didn’t surprise Madison. If there was something to link Constantine to Chelsea’s home, her friend or her team would find it.

  Higgins got out of his cruiser and headed toward Madison and Terry, as they also approached him.

  “How are you holding up?” Higgins asked with the tenderness of a loving father.

  “As good as can be expected,” she responded.

  Terry put a hand on her shoulder, and for a second, she thought she’d fall apart.

  She glanced toward the house to break eye contact and distance herself. “We know it’s Constantine now,” she began. “A witness saw him with Chelsea this morning.”

  Higgins was shaking his head. “That SOB should have stayed out of the country.”

  “You’re damn right about that.” She found her gaze going to the front door. “We’re going to see how Cynthia is making out.”

  Higgins dipped his head, and Madison and Terry went into the house.

  They found Cynthia in the garage with Mark. Her friend stopped what she was doing and hurried over. Cynthia wrapped her arms around Madison and hugged her so tightly that she thought her back might go out of alignment. But there was no way she was letting go. She’d soak in as much support as she could. When she’d successfully blinked back the tears, she stepped back.

  “Any luck tying Constantine to here?” Madison asked.

  Cynthia shook her head. “No sign of forced entry, but we’ve got lots of prints…”

  “Which could belong to anyone in the family,” Madison replied. “Same for the frame and computer accessories?”

  Her friend frowned. “I wish I had more for you, and I hate to pile on bad news,” Cynthia continued, “but that e-mail he sent isn’t going to get us anywhere, either.”

  “Why am I not surprised,” Madison stated sourly.

  “Hey, something’s got to turn around soon.” Cynthia’s upbeat response didn’t begin to make Madison feel better, but she appreciated the attempt.

  “And…” Cynthia glanced at Mark, who was coming over. “We’re done here, Maddy, as much as I hate to say it.”

  “I understand.” She balled her fists, and given the shift in Cynthia’s gaze, she’d noticed.

  “Hang in there.”

  “All I can do.” Madison expelled a lungful of air in a whoosh. “Well, I’ve got to get some clothes for Jim and the girls.”

  Cynthia squeezed Madison again. “I understand there’s a meeting in about two hours to discuss where the search for Constantine stands.”

  “Yeah.” This was all so surreal, as if they were discussing any case, not her sister’s abduction. But there we
re moments when the nightmarish reality set in with a heavy weight.

  “Come on.” Cynthia waved for Mark to follow her. “We’re going to do all we can before the meeting.”

  As optimistic as her friend was, a couple of hours wasn’t a lot of time, even if it sometimes stretched on for an eternity.

  Madison followed them from the garage back into the house, Terry behind her.

  Cynthia and Mark packed up their things and left while Madison headed upstairs. She stopped on the third step and turned around to face Terry.

  “I think they keep their luggage in the furnace room. Would you mind?”

  “Not at all.” Terry set off in the direction of the basement.

  Looking back up the stairs, she closed her eyes briefly, remembering the last time she saw her sister from this stairwell. It had been a few months ago when the investigation into Barry’s death was starting to take its toll on Madison. Chelsea had woken up to find Madison sleeping in her car in their driveway and had insisted that she come in to spend the night—or what had been left of it.

  Madison gripped the railing and resumed walking up the stairs. It was as if touching the wood brought her closer to her sister somehow. What was she going to tell their mother when she got there? There was no doubt she’d think all of this was Madison’s fault. After all, she’s the one who worked in law enforcement and garnered the attention of psychopaths.

  She reached the top landing and stepped into the master bedroom. It appeared to have just been cleaned, but that was her sister. Three kids, a perfect marriage, and she still managed to keep her house tidy. Even the bed was made. How were they even related?

  Madison smirked at that thought. There were many ways they were alike, but they were so different in others. Madison had never come to appreciate the importance of making the bed, and now in her thirties, she likely never would.

  Madison scanned her sister’s dresser and its spread of makeup and hair products. She walked over, picked up a perfume bottle, and sniffed it while closing her eyes. It smelled like Chelsea, and Madison let herself imagine that her sister was there with her.

  “I found the luggage. One suitcase should be enough, I would think, right?”