He unlocked the drawer of his marble-top desk and extracted his passport. He opened it, looked at the picture, and laughed, rubbing his unshaven chin. He then strode to the French doors on the other side of the large, opulent room and stared out over the picturesque fortress guarding the entrance to Havana Bay, known as the Castillo de los Tres Reyes Magos del Morro. He stepped out onto the balcony, sipping a mojito and puffing on a Montecristo cigar, and was calmed by tropical trade winds, contemplating victory. He knew that it was only a matter of time now before Alex resurfaced and he would have his revenge for her treachery.
The soothing sound of the sitar flowed throughout the softly lit exercise studio where a muscularly toned, highlighted brunette whispered, “Namaste.”
“Namaste,” repeated the fifteen other women anchored in the lotus position in front of her.
“Excellent work, everyone. See you all on Friday.”
The women whooped and clapped as they moved off the varied yoga mats scattered on the floor and gathered their belongings as they prepared to leave.
Lorraine Chase waved her good-byes, pulled the hood of her fitted warm-up suit over her head, and stuffed her towel and water bottle into her bag. “See you all Friday.”
“Aren’t you coming to lunch with us?” one of the women asked.
“I can’t. I have a hair appointment with Geno in an hour and you know how bitchy he gets when you’re late.”
She continued out of the building and found Harley Donovan waiting for her.
“Harley, what are you doing here?”
He pushed his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry for showing up like this, Lorraine. It’s about John.”
“John? What’s happened?”
“He’s been in an accident.”
“What? Where is he?”
“He’s been taken to Huntington Hospital.”
“Oh my God.” She fretfully rifled through her bag for her keys. “I can’t remember where I parked my car.”
“It’s okay. I’ll drive you.” He took her by the arm and ushered her to his SUV.
“Buckle up,” he said, noting her distraction as he drove off.
“Harley, tell me what happened.”
“He was on his way to arrest a fugitive who was apprehended in Orange County and he got blindsided by a delivery truck on the freeway.”
Lorraine gasped. “You weren’t with him?”
He shook his head.
“How bad is it?”
“All I know is his truck was totaled.”
“Oh, God.”
Her cell phone rang and when she reached into her bag Donovan swerved to the side of the street and pulled his gun. “Let it ring.”
Lorraine gasped. “Harley, what the hell are you doing?”
“I’m real sorry about this, Lorraine.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“If you don’t do exactly what I say two little kids are gonna grow up orphans. Is that what you want?”
“Where’s John?”
“I don’t know, but that’s what we’re gonna find out.”
She grabbed the door handle and he hit the electric locks and snatched her by the hair. She shrieked.
“Please don’t make me shoot you, Lorraine. We just want John and the girl.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen John in days.”
“You don’t have to know where he is. As soon as he finds out we got you he’ll come to us.”
“Harley, I don’t understand. Why are you doing this? I thought John was your partner. You’re supposed to be friends.”
“Friends come and go; you just better hope that there’s still a little piece of him that cares what happens to you. The people I work with won’t give a damn whether you make it home or not.”
“What’s happened to you? Who’s making you do this?”
“The less you know the better. Now, here’s what’s gonna happen, there’s a pair of handcuffs in the glove compartment. I want you to take them out and fasten one end to your wrist, then loop the cuffs through the door handle and secure the other wrist.”
“No. I won’t do it.”
He twisted a clump of her hair around his fist and jerked. “John Michael and little Chloe are gonna be so lonely without you. Now, get the damn handcuffs.”
“Okay.”
Donovan released his hold and she did what he instructed her to do. Her cell phone rang again. He wrestled the phone from her bag and chucked it out the window.
“Where are you taking me?”
He didn’t answer.
“What happened to you, Harley? You used to be a good guy.”
“I used to be a lot of things.”
“How could you do this to John?”
“It’s touching that you still care so much about him, considering he’s been screwin’ the woman he’s supposed to be protecting.”
Lorraine looked away.
Donovan put his Bluetooth device in his ear and dialed his phone. “I got her. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
They drove several miles before Donovan pulled off the interstate. He extracted an untraceable cell phone from under his seat and attached a device that would distort his voice so as not to be identified.
“What are you doing?” Lorraine asked.
“Upping the ante,” he responded. “Not a peep out of you, understand?”
Lorraine sat, terrified, pulling at her handcuffed wrists, resisting the urge to scream for fear of what Donovan might do.
John’s cell phone rang as he emerged from the restroom. The call registered unknown. He brushed his hand over his face and head and answered. “This is Inspector Chase.”
“Hello, Inspector. How are you this fine afternoon?”
“Who the hell is this?”
“Let’s just say I’m a concerned citizen.”
“What do you want?”
“You know what we want, Inspector. By the way, did you like that little gift we left you over near the canyon? My associates wanted to set the whole thing on fire but I convinced them it would draw unnecessary attention.”
“I assume you called because you want the girl.”
“Ding! Ding! Ding! You’re pretty good at this. If you liked the first act of this drama wait until you get a load of the finale.”
“You know what, I’m gonna find you and when I do that will be your finale.”
“That’s pretty big talk coming from a man who doesn’t know where to begin to look.”
“I guess that makes us even, because you have no idea where to find what you’re looking for either.”
“So, how about we make a trade? We’ll give you back your wife if you hand over Alex Solomon. Remember your wife, Inspector? The pretty little redhead. The mother of your children.”
John was taken aback by that reveal.
“Are you still there, Inspector?”
“If you hurt Lorraine I swear—”
“That’s touching. You had just the right amount of indignation in your voice, too. We’ll call you back in an hour and tell you where to meet us. If you double-cross us we’ll kill Jamilah Solomon and your wife and then we’ll come after your children. Is Alex Solomon really worth all that to you?”
After the call disconnected John dialed Lorraine. She didn’t answer her cell, nor did anyone answer at home. “Goddammit!”
“John, what is it? What’s wrong?” Alex asked.
“That son of a bitch took Lorraine.”
Alex clasped her hand over her mouth.
John removed his standard-issue Glock from his back holster and checked the chamber. “He’s gonna pay for this shit!” He charged for the door.
“Wait. I’m coming with you.”
“No. You’re not going anywhere. Stay here. I mean it, Alex. Don’t leave this room.”
“I can’t just sit around here worrying and not knowing what’s going on and losing my mind.”
“That’s ex
actly what you’re going to do. You have got to trust me to take care of this.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know you are.” John went to the nightstand next to the bed and scribbled something on a pad. He ripped off the paper and handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
“It’s my stepfather’s cell phone number. I really don’t want to drag him into this, but right now he’s the only person I can trust. If I don’t come back . . . If you don’t hear from me in the next two hours you need to call him and tell him what’s happened. He knows people. He can get you out of here.” John pulled the clip of Alex’s .380 from his pocket. “Take this. Use it if you have to.”
“John . . . be careful.”
He caressed her cheek. “I think the time for being careful is over.”
John’s cell phone rang on his way to his truck. He answered without thinking about it. “Yeah?”
“Inspector Chase, at long last.”
“Chief Toliver.”
“Well, at least you remember my name. Do you also remember that I’m also the boss?”
“Look, Chief, I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to call you. There’s a lot goin’ on that you need to know about, but I don’t have time to talk to you about it right now.”
“Well, you better damn well make time, Inspector. I don’t know what kind of monkey-ass operation you think I’m running here, but you’ve got some explaining to do. I got a call from Sam McFarland at the Monrovia PD and guess what tales he’s been regaling me with?”
“Chief, I really gotta go.”
“I need you to come in and talk to me, Inspector.”
“I will . . . later.”
“Not later. Right now, John.”
“I can’t.”
“Inspector Chase, if you’re not in my office within the hour it’s your ass, do you understand me? This is your entire career we’re talking about here.”
John jumped in his truck and started the ignition. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Look, Alex Solomon’s cover is blown and I have a pretty good idea how Rivera found out. His people took Jamilah Solomon and they took my wife and they’re threatening to kill my kids.”
“John, where are you? Where is Alex Solomon?”
“I can’t tell you that. But, she’s in a safe place for now.” John looked at his watch. “I’m running out of time. I gotta go.” John hung up his phone, threw the truck in gear, and tore out of the hotel parking lot.
He made his way to Donovan’s loft and loitered impatiently outside. When someone exited the building he slipped in, bypassed the elevator, and charged up six flights of stairs. He pounded on the door. “Harley, it’s me, John.” There was no response. John looked around to see if he’d disturbed any of the neighbors. When he realized he hadn’t he deftly picked the lock on the door and stole his way inside. Certain there would be something to find he plundered the apartment, turning over furniture and rifling through trash. He scoured every drawer and closet in the kitchen, living room, and bedroom.
While searching through a closet in the bedroom he discovered an electronically keyed wall safe hidden behind a row of tailored suits. “Dammit!” John sighed and wiped his hand over his mouth as he started punching a sequence of numbers. “Birthday . . . uh, let’s see. March . . . March . . . 030973 . . . 730903. C’mon dammit, think.” Stepping outside the closet John caught a glimpse of a framed photo on the nightstand of Donovan and his dog. He thoughtfully rubbed the stubble on his chin and stared at the picture.
“Havin’ to put my dog down was somethin’ I’ll never forget. Somethin’ like that stays with you, you know what I mean?”
John slapped his forehead. “Son of a . . . Could it be that obvious?” Rushing back to the safe he held his breath and carefully punched the numbers 01152005. The safe clicked and popped open. “Thank you, Bear.”
Among other documents that bore the names and photographs of Gilbert Mosley and Pilar Vélez there was a passport that Donovan used to travel under the name Herman Donovan. The safe also contained a stack of confidential papers that detailed information and dates about Alex Solomon’s allocation into the program. There were also surveillance pictures of Jamilah and the baby, and of him and Alex together outside her house, in the parking lot of the boutique, getting into his car at the restaurant, and the hotel they’d stayed in while in Los Angeles. He took the photographs of Pilar and Gil and the more telling pictures taken of him and Alex; he decided to leave the rest behind for the police to find. Every shred of betrayal John uncovered made him angrier. Before the sun set on this day there would be hell to pay.
16
Situated on a fifty-acre parcel of land twenty miles north of Puente Hills and south of the San Gabriel Mountains, an abandoned farmhouse was veiled by towering California sycamores and teeming with eucalyptus. It was well off the beaten path and could easily be missed traveling most any direction on the interstate to and from the valley or toward the greater Los Angeles area. One had to know it was there in order to find it. The house and property once owned by Harley Donovan’s grandparents now belonged to him.
Lorraine had never been so far outside that which was familiar to her and with little sense of direction she doubted if she would be able to locate it again. “What is this place?”
Donovan shot her a side-glance. His silence was unnerving. He pulled up to the house and she noted the license plate of the Land Rover parked in front.
She murmured, trying to lock the numbers in her memory, “2CJC569 . . . 2CJC569 . . . 2CJC569.”
“That’s not gonna do you any good,” Donovan said. “You’re not gonna be around long enough to tell anybody.”
He got out and went around to the passenger side of his vehicle. He unlocked the handcuffs and pulled her out. Pilar opened the door to the house and stepped out onto the porch. Gil came out and took hold of Lorraine. He leered at her and nuzzled her neck. She squirmed, disgusted.
“Leave her alone,” Pilar insisted.
Gil grumbled and dragged her inside.
“I gotta get back,” Donovan said.
“What should we do if John Chase shows up?”
“He won’t. He has no idea where I am, but I know exactly where he is.” Donovan jumped back into his SUV and rolled down the window. “If I’m not back by six . . . kill them.”
“What about the baby?” Pilar asked.
“Kill them all.” He sped off toward his loft, making ready for the confrontation he knew awaited him.
Gil heaved Lorraine into the room where Jamilah was being kept and locked the door. Both women were startled to see the other. Lorraine stood against the wall, staring warily at Jamilah sitting on the bed holding Cerena as she slept. Jamilah drew up, unsure what to expect next. Lorraine nervously looked around to find a way out without acknowledging her. She tugged pointlessly on the bars at the window much like Jamilah had initially.
Jamilah spoke. Her voice was hoarse and weak. “Unless you have superhuman strength you’re wasting your time.”
Lorraine turned away from the window and sat on the arm of a ragged upholstered chair facing the bed. She rubbed the bruises left from the handcuffs on her delicate wrists, and caught sight of the trail of dried blood on the hardwood floor.
“How are you connected to all of this?”
Lorraine’s eyes fluttered up to Jamilah. “Connected?”
“Are you one of them?”
Lorraine pulled uncomfortably at the neck of her hoodie. “No, I’m not one of them. I don’t know who these people are. I was brought here by a man I thought I could trust; apparently I was wrong.”
“A man I trusted is the reason I’m here as well.”
“I don’t understand what any of this is about,” Lorraine continued. “What do you think they’re going to do to us?”
Jamilah closed her eyes and shook her head, unwilling to give voice to the inconceivable.
“How long have you been here?”
“I don’t know.
A day or two perhaps.”
“Is this your baby?”
“No, this is my granddaughter, Cerena.”
“Cerena.” Lorraine smiled sadly. “That’s a pretty name.”
Jamilah caressed Cerena’s soft curls and teared up. “It means calm, peaceful, cheerful.”
“She’s beautiful. I can’t imagine that Donovan would do anything to hurt her.”
“Donovan?” Jamilah repeated.
“Harley Donovan. He brought me here,” Lorraine said. “Do you know him?”
“He’s . . . he’s Inspector Chase’s partner.”
“You know my husband?”
“Your . . .” Recognition flashed in Jamilah’s eyes. “Inspector Chase is your husband?”
Lorraine’s brow furrowed. “Yes. My name is Lorraine. What’s your name?”
“Jam . . . Janette Sullivan.”
Lorraine gasped. “Adriane Sullivan is your daughter?”
“Yes, she is.”
Lorraine stood up and paced the room. “Oh, wow. Now it makes sense. Harley brought me here to get to John. John must be off somewhere with . . . your daughter.”
Jamilah looked hopeful. “Then she’s all right. She’s alive.” She cleared her throat. “I think Harley Donovan is working for a man named Xavier Rivera. If the inspector is with my daughter he’ll keep her safe.”
Both women turned and stared at the door when they heard the key turning in the lock. Pilar entered, flanked by her gun-toting accomplice. She noted the half-eaten sandwich on the tray she’d prepared for Jamilah’s lunch. “What was wrong with it? You do not care for the accommodations?”
“I wasn’t hungry,” Jamilah responded flatly.
“I see.” Pilar turned her attention to Lorraine. “Would you care for anything?” Her tone was more condescending than cordial.
“I would care to get the hell out of here and home to my children,” Lorraine shot back.
Pilar smirked and removed the tray as Gil stood guard. Seconds later Pilar came back and went to the bed where Jamilah sat, and reached for Cerena.
Avenging Alex Page 15
