The Ivy Nash Thrillers: Books 4-6: Redemption Thriller Series 10-12 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set)

by John W. Mefford

  He tried to raise an eyebrow, but it never quite made it. “Who’s the cynic now?”

  “Just saying.”

  “So am I. Just calling it like I see it.”

  “And you don’t have any leads on the woman who kidnapped Billy?”

  “We put out an APB on her, what we knew about her car. Nothing yet.”

  I snapped my fingers. “What about the 7-Eleven where Billy said they’d been?”

  “What are you doing in the command post?” I turned to see Brook strutting up to us, her red hair now looking more like a rat’s nest. I could identify with that.

  “I let her in, Brook,” Stan said, holding up a hand. “William called her because she helped him find Billy. She may be able to assist with finding Drew as well.”

  “But it’s not protocol.” She sounded stressed.

  “It’s okay.” He waved her off then changed the subject. “She was asking about the 7-Eleven angle. You interviewed the clerks, right?”

  She puffed out a breath. “Losers. All of them. A fucking bomb could have exploded and they wouldn’t have noticed.”

  “Cameras?” I asked.

  She looked away.

  “Seriously?”

  “Just like Target,” she said in a breathy tone.

  My mind darted from one possible theory to the next. I finally focused on a single question. “Have you guys thought about how these two kidnappings are connected?”

  “It’s been chaotic,” Stan said. “We’ve only been on the scene an hour. But yes, Brook and I did have a brief conversation about it.”

  “And?”

  Brook jumped in. “And what? We’re doing the best we can. Right now, it makes the most sense to home in on the evidence that we have before us. This old Cadillac.”

  I couldn’t understand why they weren’t looking at the bigger picture. The cameras being out at both 7-Eleven and Target seemed too coincidental. I was beginning to get a picture of the person or persons behind this operation. Someone had to have some mad technical skills. I kept my opinions to myself, however, and played their way, for now. “Did this friend see the person in the car with Drew?”

  “It was getting dark, and there was a glare on the windshield,” Stan said. “All he saw were flashes of color, mainly blue.”

  “But it didn’t appear that Drew was forced into the car?”

  “Nope.”

  “So he either knew his kidnapper, or quickly trusted him or her, or was coerced. Are you sure William doesn’t have any other family members who would want to take the kids?”

  “No one.”

  “And you verified that the mom is still in prison?”

  “Dammit, what is it with all of your questions?” Brook smacked her hands to her legs. “I don’t have time for this. Stan, feel free.” She took a phone call, or at least acted like she was, and walked away.

  “What a—”

  “She’s feeling the heat, so I’d cut her a break,” Stan said. “The chief wants hourly updates. Media is all over this too. It’s just crazy. Two kids from the same family kidnapped within twenty-four hours of each other.” He sighed while casting a gaze across the lawn. I followed his eyes to see the grieving foster mom flailing her arms. She shouted expletives that cracked through the murmur of activity around the command post. Something must have set her off.

  I turned back around. “You see it, Stan. And so do I. These kidnappings can’t be a coincidence.”

  “Maybe. Probably. Who knows? We can’t even get a minute to think this through without being interrupted by a call from the brass or some random media inquiry. Everyone’s on edge, dammit.”

  I gave him a sympathetic pop on the arm.

  “Ouch!” he said, rubbing it.

  I chuckled, thinking he was joking. He just stared at me.

  “That really hurt?”

  “I got a rabies shot yesterday. Woke up this morning and could barely raise my arm.”

  “You were bit by a rabid dog?”

  “One of many running around the city with no owner. Got me right in the upper thigh,” he said, rubbing his backside.

  “You mean your ass?”

  “My ass sags, so I call it my upper thigh.”

  Gross. “TMI, Stan.”

  “By the way, we did verify William’s daughter is still in prison. So that’s one box checked,” he said as his gaze turned toward a flurry of motion.

  “You and your fucked-up family ruined these kids!”

  The foster mom had shed the grips of her entourage and was charging at William like a woman possessed.

  William held up an arm, muttering something. Just as she reached him, two uniforms jumped in between the pair, both digging their shoes into the ground to gain some leverage and push her back.

  “I didn’t do anything. I just want my grandson back,” William said, turning in circles as if he thought he might find Drew standing amongst the crowd. Then, as officers and friends helped get the foster mom under control, he stopped and pointed right at me. “Ivy, you’ve got to help me. I know we can find Drew, just like we found Billy.”

  He started walking toward me, then stumbled. As he fell to the ground, Stan grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. William acted like Stan didn’t exist and moved within three feet of me. “Ivy, please. Ask me questions. Do what you did for Billy. Please.” His booze breath nearly knocked me over, but his eyes were full of pain. It broke my heart to see a man crumbling right in front of me. But what could I do? The booze and the anxiety must have made him think I was a psychic.

  I scratched the side of my head. “Do you and Drew have a special place that you go?”

  His jaw quivered. “Drew’s a good kid, but he’s always been a rebel. Never really was interested in my stuff. Too much energy to be a fisherman.”

  “Crap!”

  Brook had found her way through the foster mom’s entourage. She’d just pocketed her phone when she noticed William.

  “What’s wrong? Have you found my Drew?” William rocked his arms up and down like a little kid anticipating his birthday presents.

  She and Stan locked eyes.

  “Stop looking at him and tell me. I’m Drew’s family, dammit.”

  She huffed out a breath, momentarily glancing at William, then shifting her gaze to Stan and me. “Just got word from the station. Officers found a body of a middle-aged Caucasian woman in a field just on the outskirts of town. She was wearing a brown wig over red hair. And she had a mole on her chin.”

  William leaned closer, a huge trench between his eyes. “The woman who took my Billy is dead?”

  “It appears that way,” Brook said, placing a hand on her hip.

  “Is that a bad thing? I mean, she took my Billy. She deserves to die.”

  “Not sure everyone would agree with you, but I understand why you feel that way,” Brook said.

  “But why are you angry?”

  She didn’t respond. He looked to me, then Stan, and finally back to Brook.

  “You thought she might have taken Drew? Is that what you thought?”

  “It was a theory.”

  “So now we have no clue who took Drew—is that what you’re telling me?”

  The silence was only interrupted by William Cooper’s muted sobs.

  14

  The morning dew on the front lawn glinted as the sun edged just above the line of trees across the street from the command post. The surplus of emotion from the previous night had now died back. I hadn’t heard or seen the foster mom or anyone else from her flock since she was ushered inside the house at around three a.m.

  Leaning against a tree, I released a yawn and glanced over at the cot sitting next to a generator. The loud hum from the motor served as excellent white noise; William had been sleeping soundly on the cot for at least a couple of hours. Then again, he could have just passed out from the sheer volume of alcohol in his system. A few cops milled about. Brook and Stan had been on a conference call in her car for the last hour.<
br />
  “Boo!”

  I turned around and saw Cristina cracking a smile.

  “Is that black gold I see in your hand?”

  She nodded, holding up the cup of coffee.

  “Is it for me?

  She shook her head. When I frowned, she handed it to me. “Just kidding. Enjoy.”

  I slurped the coffee like a dog who hadn’t had any water for days. I finally came up for air, then said, “How did you find me?”

  She gave me the look. “What business are we in?”

  I countered with, “Who told you?”

  “Well, I started with Zahera, and then finally reached out to Saul. He’s a load of fun at five a.m.”

  At that moment, I received a text from Saul, asking if there had been any progress on finding Drew. I replied with:

  Not yet. Time is ticking. Check in later. xoxo

  I raised my head, my mind playing catch-up to what Cristina had said. “And Z was cool at that hour of the morning? Are we talking about the same person?”

  “She was giggling. And then I heard a guy’s voice. Isn’t she dating that James Bond dude?”

  I winked at her. “We all have our weak spots.”

  “And yours is coffee, apparently.”

  I asked what the urgency was to locate me at such a crazy hour.

  “I heard about this second kidnapping…no thanks to you, I might add.” She smirked.

  “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

  “You sure you’re not trying to push me out of the business?”

  “Cristina, don’t go there. You know that’s ridiculous.”

  “Just looks like…you know.”

  “No, I don’t know. I should be the one throwing out crazy accusations. I haven’t slept all night.”

  She put a hand on her hip, which seemed a bit more prominent. Was she developing a few more curves? “Am I supposed to believe that you would have gotten more sleep had you stayed with your horny boyfriend?” she asked. Then she cracked up before I could scold her.

  William began to stir on his cot. He turned onto his other side, and within a few seconds, he was back asleep, his jaw hanging open.

  “Any evidence for finding Drew?” Cristina asked.

  I gave her the rundown of what I’d learned from Stan. “Essentially, they’re scouring the area with officers hoping they find him. They’re posting his picture on anything that isn’t moving.”

  “I saw a bunch of flyers on my Uber drive over,” she said, taking in the whole scene. “It’s so crazy. Two kids from the same family. I just hope Drew is found and that he’s safe, like his little brother.”

  I’d been racking my brain the last several hours about the kidnapping, possible connections and motivations, but all I had were more questions. Stan and Brook were too busy to deal with another Q&A session, but said they’d share more data when it came in, just to get my take on it. So far, I had been about as helpful as the tree I was leaning against.

  “By the way, that Uber corporate account you set up is a pretty sweet deal,” Cristina said.

  “Don’t get used to it. Might have to cut back if we ever find office space. Speaking of…” I nodded, signaling I was looking for an update.

  “I bailed on that douche bag, Danny.”

  I could see where she was coming from, but I couldn’t admit it. “What?” My question had a pissed-off tone.

  “Hold on, now,” she said, her hands raised like I was aiming a gun at her. “I had two good reasons.”

  “And they were?”

  “One, Danny is one of those guys who can’t sit still. He always has to be ‘making a deal.’” She used air quotes while rolling her eyes. “It’s so damn annoying. I know he’s cutting us a break, doing us a favor because he knows Zahera and all, but is he really doing us a favor when I’m spending all day with him, forced to listen to his cheesy negotiation tactics?”

  I gave her a disapproving look while sipping more coffee.

  “Hell, half the time—no, check that, more like eighty percent of the time—he’s on his damn phone ‘making deals’ on some seven-figure condo or a new development that could revitalize the economy.”

  She paused a second. I could hear a couple of officers talking behind me, the grumble of the generator still a dominant sound on the scene. “Are you done yet?”

  “You wouldn’t believe this annoying habit he has. He always—”

  “Stop. He’s probably not fond of something you do either. Have you thought about that?” I knew my tone sounded motherly, but her attitude needed some serious adjustment.

  “What could that be?” She ran her fingers through her hair, then crossed her arms.

  “Bitching too much,” I said with a raised eyebrow. She opened her mouth, but I held up a hand. “It’s like you and Danny are brother and sister.”

  She looked off for a moment. I turned around and noticed lights pop on through the windows of the house. I wondered when the foster mom would make another appearance, or for that matter, how long William would stick around. I knew if the child wasn’t found in the first twenty-four hours, the odds of finding him alive dropped significantly. But we still had twelve hours.

  I slurped more coffee, eyeing the dark-tinted windows of Brook’s government-issued Chevy Impala. I could see a small trail of exhaust rising out of the pipe in the back. She probably had the engine on just to allow the AC to run. Stan could sweat like a pig when the temperature was a comfortable seventy-five degrees.

  “I do have other news to share.”

  I turned around, thankful to see and hear a more relaxed Cristina. “What’s going on? Good news, I hope?”

  “A new client emailed us yesterday while you were being Wonder Woman.”

  “Sorry. I guess I forgot to check our ECHO email box.”

  “No problem. That’s why I’m around.” She pulled out her phone, swiped her finger across the screen, and scrolled down.

  “Waiting on a reply to see if the client will hire us?”

  “He already has.” She looked up and couldn’t hide her smile.

  It was odd not being involved in that process, but I tried not to dwell on it. “Do you think you’re going to be working for Zac Efron or something?”

  “Well…” She hooked a thumb in the pocket of her jeans and gave me a sheepish grin.

  “What am I missing?”

  “So, Leo actually took the red eye overnight. He should be landing at the San Antonio airport within the hour.”

  “Leo. Does Leo have a last name?”

  “Maldanado.”

  Sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place the name. “Why did he reach out to us?”

  “He’s been responsible for his sister ever since their parents died a year ago. She’s seventeen, like me, and he’s concerned that she’s running with the wrong crowd.”

  “What does he want you to do?”

  “Keep tabs on Nikki—that’s his sister’s name—but in a very covert way.”

  “Covert as in CIA covert?” I asked jokingly.

  “Basically he wants me to go undercover.” She paused, then added quietly, “She’s in summer school.”

  I nearly spit out my coffee. “Did I hear that right? Cristina is finally going back to school?” I couldn’t hide my elation with a hint of sarcasm. Despite me pleading with her to go back and get her high school diploma, she had always refused. She said she had enough street smarts to make it in the world, and plus, she had the job with me. She even said she was light-years ahead of everyone else her age. To a degree, I saw her point. But not for the long term.

  I’d tried telling her that things change, people change, and she would want to have that diploma at some point in her life. I’d even attempted to use college as a carrot, but it didn’t work.

  “Are you actually going to take a class or two toward your diploma?”

  “If I can work it in, why not?”

  I wouldn’t have been more stunned if she had said she was moving to Hollywood
to become a rap star.

  “I’ll know more when I meet with Leo here in a while.”

  “Cool. What does he do? And how old is he?”

  “He’s twenty-one. He spends a lot of time in LA. He’s an actor.”

  I blinked a couple of times. “An actor.”

  “You act like I just said drug dealer.”

  “Well, I just…” Visions of the show Entourage swept across my mind, a show focused solely on a bunch of buddies riding the coattails of their actor friend just so they could score with the women in Hollywood. Cristina had learned about life the hard way, but she’d never met a true player, someone who was so smooth and charming that he lulls you into thinking you’re the center of the universe.

  “I guess you’ve already looked at pictures online.”

  She couldn’t hide her smile. “Your Zac Efron comparison isn’t far off. At least a Latin version of him.”

  Great. “I think I need to meet Latin Zac.” I pulled out my phone and checked the time. “What time are you guys meeting?”

  “It’s not necessary, Mom.”

  “Ouch. You might as well call me Bitch.”

  “Look, Ivy, I know you’ve got a lot more important stuff going on here. I just was trying to keep you in the loop.”

  She was right. Mostly. “Are you going to have time to work with Danny on the office space, or do we need to put that on hold?”

  She kicked her shoe through some grass. “I’ll put on my big-girl panties and do it.”

  I smirked. “As long as I let you meet with Leo by yourself.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I get it. Just be careful, both with him and at the school.”

  “Well, I might need your help getting me in the school, since Mom is still in jail awaiting trial.”

  Her mom had killed the man who’d raped Cristina, but it wasn’t a very noble effort. Until one of Stan’s detective buddies found video footage placing her near the scene, she had been willing to let Cristina take the fall for a manslaughter charge.

  “I’ll help wherever you need me. I can’t wait to hear what subjects you’ll be taking.”

  “Remember, this is about a girl’s life, and our client, not really about English Lit.”

  “Leo, the Latin Zac. I get it.”