Corey

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Corey Page 14

by Dale Mayer


  And now to find she was even more attractive to him over a decade later, well, that was an incredible turn-on.

  As he stepped through the door, she called out, “Good night.”

  He refused to turn and look back because he knew what he’d see. He tossed back, “Good night,” in a carefree voice and quickly raced down the stairs.

  As he walked into the kitchen, Warrick said, “I didn’t expect you to come back down.”

  “She’s not ready for that.”

  “But I figured you couldn’t leave her alone for the night.”

  “She needs sleep, not to mention being married.”

  “She’s been separated for months so that’s hardly relevant at this point. Do you think she’ll actually sleep with all this going on?”

  “No idea. But she didn’t ask me to stay so …”

  Warrick nodded and half smirked.

  Corey walked to the fridge and pulled out a beer that Warrick had bought at the liquor store. “Do you want one?”

  Warrick held out a hand behind him, and Corey placed one in his palm. He walked around, sat down at the table and took a deep drink. He loved the cold chill as it chased down his throat. “It’s a nice beer.”

  “Any beer is a nice beer when you need one.”

  At that Corey chuckled. “Isn’t that the truth?” He studied his friend. “What the hell are we supposed to look for now? None of this makes any sense yet.”

  “Focus on the spreadsheets. The answers have got to be there.” Warrick reached around to a stack of papers. “I’ve printed off several copies. Here. Go ahead and mark them up. See if you can figure out what the hell’s going on.”

  Corey closed the laptop and spread the sheets out in front of him. “I’ll start with Elizabeth and her five grand payments.”

  He looked at the list of names, found four that had regular five thousand dollar payments and quickly realized Elizabeth’s last name was the first three letters in one of the codes. He marked that, then grabbed a scratch pad. He wrote down the other names they knew. The sums were all about the same: five or seven or four thousand dollars. Several were much more. He circled them on the first column, wondering what somebody would have to do to be charged that kind of money.

  “We need more names, so we have a better understanding of his code. I still think this is a list of his payments received.” He glanced at his vibrating phone. A text from Mason. Corey spread the sheets out so they were top to bottom. Then he picked up his phone and called Mason. “What did you find out?”

  “Jackson was being blackmailed. He stopped making payments a few weeks ago at the same time he put in for early retirement. He doesn’t know what the blackmailer will do now but no longer cares, as he’s getting out.”

  “Any idea what his payments were every month?”

  “Three grand.”

  In the background Corey could hear someone calling out to Mason, “Thanks for meeting him. Let’s hope the captain sees a happy end to all this.”

  Corey hung up the phone and told Warrick the details. Corey motioned to the spreadsheets on the table. “All these payments add up to more than a hundred and fifty grand. Several here are ten thousand, and some are fifteen.”

  Warrick whistled. “Murder being the fifteen?”

  “I think so. But God only knows how Greg determined that figure. I’m surprised it wasn’t a big payout first. Fifteen thousand is not very much.”

  “No, but, like you said earlier, it’s enough to keep his marks paying. It’s as if the blackmailer knew what the victim could afford. I bet he’s taking just enough that they can make the monthly payment without leaving them dry. I don’t think this is a short-term process. And I doubt he went after money with everyone. It was all about using the opportunity for gain—one way or another.”

  “That also explains why some of these payments start at different months. Depends when he managed to get the information, presumably to target these men.”

  “And we can’t assume it’s just men either,” Warrick said. “Don’t forget Elizabeth.”

  “No, that’s true. Most of the photos though appear to be of men.”

  Just as he sorted out some of the other names, Angela raced down the stairs in her pajamas. He looked up as she burst through, holding out her phone on Speaker. “Joshua, talk to me.”

  “Mommy” came a tearful voice from her phone. “Can you come get me?”

  “Where are you, sweetie?” she asked, standing at the men’s sides. She placed the phone on the table and danced backward.

  “I’m in the trunk of the car. Daddy put me in the trunk.”

  Both of the men bolted to their feet.

  “Is he driving the car right now?” Angela asked Joshua.

  “Yes. He’s driving.”

  Warrick sat back down and opened a different program.

  Corey walked around behind him and said in a low tone to Angela, “Keep him talking. Warrick’s trying to track the phone.”

  “Honey, keep talking to me, okay? I’m so sorry Daddy did that. Was he really angry at you?”

  “He was really scary. He didn’t say much. He just picked me up. I was wrapped up in blankets, and he grabbed all of it and tossed me into the trunk. I asked him not to.” The boy’s voice was terrified, exhausted from crying.

  “Does he know you have your phone?”

  “No. I had it tucked into the blankets with me. I wanted to call you later.”

  “Well, you hang on to that phone. We’re tracking where you are by your cell phone. So you leave it on, okay?”

  “Does that mean you’re coming to get me?” Joshua’s voice perked up with hope.

  “You bet, kiddo. Mommy’s on her way.” She glared at Corey as if daring him to argue.

  “Good, I’m really sleepy now.”

  “Honey, how come you’re so sleepy?”

  “Daddy gave me a needle,” he said, his voice going faint.

  “Leave the phone tucked in the bedding against you. And you leave your phone on. Do you hear me? Don’t shut this call off.”

  No answer.

  “Oh, God. Oh, God. Can we find him?”

  Corey already had his phone out and called the detective.

  “Now what?” he said in irritation.

  “We have an emergency.” He told the detective what was happening with Joshua in the trunk.

  “We need the number so we can track it.”

  Corey pulled the number off the phone. “Warrick is also trying to track it right now. According to Joshua, he was given a shot to make him sleepy. Now he’s asleep.”

  The detective swore under his breath. “Does he know if it’s his father driving?”

  “No. He said it was his father who put him in the trunk, but that doesn’t mean it’s his father driving. We have to track down that vehicle.”

  Corey wrapped an arm around Angela and helped her sit in the kitchen chair. He raced into the living room, grabbed a blanket, came back and wrapped it around her. He placed a hand on her shoulder as the detective continued to bark orders.

  Warrick yelped, “I got it.”

  “Warrick just found the vehicle.”

  Warrick relayed the street it was on and where it was heading.

  Corey asked, “Do you have officers nearby? Because otherwise, we’re heading out, and I’ll pull as many men as I need from our units to get this child picked up safely.”

  “I have men on it. We’re tracking it now too.”

  “It’s only about ten minutes away from here.”

  “I’m getting satellite on it.”

  “I can get that too.” Warrick phoned Levi again. “The little boy has been shoved in the trunk of a car and is on the move. Do you have satellite access?”

  Corey half listened to both phone conversations as he watched Angela. She looked completely grief stricken. He shook his head. “Stay positive. This isn’t over.”

  Chapter 12

  Angela shook her head at the chaos. And yet it
was organized chaos. Both men were talking to different people, and everybody was tracking Joshua. She pulled her feet onto the chair and wrapped her arms around her knees. Laying her head against the blanket, she tried to stay silent. Inside her chest, her heart seized to the point it was hard to get a breath out.

  Her beautiful boy. Joshua. Drugged and in the trunk of a car. Why? Where were they taking him? What the hell had Greg done? Was Joshua of so little importance that he was literally a pawn to further control Angela? Or was Greg trying to fulfill his threat—that she’d never get a chance to see him again?

  Just the thought had her body shaking. She rocked back and forth on the chair. She wouldn’t let her gaze leave the two men. They were barking out orders and answering questions in the same static-type tone.

  And she understood she was privy to something special. What was a panic mode for her was a work mode for them. They were in control. They were determined. And they were so focused. On her son. On saving her little boy who they didn’t even know.

  She clenched her arms tighter around her, her knees pulled up as close as she could into the tightest ball she could make.

  And she waited. And waited.

  Finally Corey got off the phone. “The police have the car tracked. They’re trying to surround it. I had to get off the phone so the detective could deal with it. Let’s hope they bring the car to a stop fast.”

  He turned to look at Warrick who responded. “Levi’s on the phone. He has live satellite. They’re tracking the vehicle as well. They’ll see when the police come up on him.”

  And then suddenly it went quiet. Corey put down his phone, kneeled in front of her and wrapped his arms around her. “Let’s just stay positive.”

  She stared at him, but she didn’t know what to say. Everything in her world was frozen, waiting for word. Had they gotten Joshua, and was he alive? That Greg could have poisoned Joshua was never far from her mind. Just the thought of Greg trying to kill Joshua was too much to contemplate.

  Warrick gave a shout.

  Corey bounced back up.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  Warrick said, “They have the vehicle surrounded.”

  Corey’s phone rang. “It’s the detective,” he said. “What’s up? Did you find him?”

  “We have the vehicle. We’re trying to open the trunk right now.”

  “Who was driving?”

  “Not the husband. But I might have seen the driver in some of the photos.”

  “Take a picture and send it to me,” Corey snapped. “Chances are it’s somebody Angela will recognize.” He turned to look at her. Seeing the gray tinge to her face, he gave her shoulder a squeeze.

  She took a deep gasping breath.

  “We’re waiting. They’re trying to open the trunk.”

  She shook her head and cried, “How can it be hard to open?”

  “They’ve got it open.” The detective’s voice came through the speakerphone loud and clear. “There is a bundle of blankets in the trunk.”

  In the background they heard a shout.

  “They’ve got the boy.”

  Angela stared at the phone and screamed, “Is he alive? Is Joshua alive?”

  In the background she could hear many voices and chaos.

  “We’re checking.” Then the detective spoke, his voice low, “We have a pulse, and an ambulance is on the way. He’s alive. We don’t know what condition he’s in. But, I repeat, he’s alive.”

  Angela burst into tears, her body shattering as the shock ran through her.

  Corey wrapped her up tight again.

  She was barely cognizant of the phone conversation still going on. She heard him ask what hospital.

  And he said he’d have her there in no time.

  When he put down the phone, he tilted her head back. “You need to pull it together. He’ll be at the hospital in about fifteen minutes. I want you with him. We will have you to the hospital in twenty minutes. Go get dressed. Make sure you have your purse and anything you might need in case you’re staying overnight.”

  She looked at him, swallowed, wiped away the tears and ran upstairs. Her hands shook so badly she didn’t think she could get dressed by herself. She quickly donned the same clothes she had worn earlier. She hadn’t unpacked, and that was a good thing. She quickly threw her nightclothes into the bag and went back downstairs. She stepped into the kitchen. “I’m ready.

  Corey turned to look at her and smiled. “I have a photo I want you to look at.” He motioned her to the laptop. Warrick turned it so she could see. “This is the driver. Do you know who that is?”

  She stared at the photo, the color leaving her face. “That’s Reginald. That’s the man who lost his little boy. And the one who saved Elizabeth.”

  “Well, Reginald’s being held by the police under the suspicion of kidnapping.”

  She raised her gaze to the others. “Oh, my God. Is Greg making it look like Reginald is the one who did this? Then Greg’ll get off scot-free.”

  “Except for the fact your boy said it was his daddy who threw him into the trunk, correct?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” She took the phone from her purse and held it out to Warrick. “Any way to get a copy of that phone call?”

  He frowned. “I’m not sure.” Then he stopped; an odd look came into his eyes. “I’ll consider it. We need to tell the police about it too. They can get the cell phone company to give them a lot of that information. But I don’t believe they record the calls.”

  “What we need is for Joshua to wake up and to tell us himself,” Corey said. “That will put a wrench in Greg’s plan.”

  She shook her head. “No, he’ll just toss it off as being the delusions of a child.”

  “We will see. Right now, I’m taking you to the hospital. Then I’ll head to the police station. I want to have a talk with Reginald.”

  She turned to look at him. “The police won’t let you talk to him.”

  He smiled. “That’s okay. If we play this right, Reginald will turn on his boss, and we won’t have to worry about it anymore. And, if not, Reginald will pay for his part in all this.”

  Her gaze flipped to Warrick. “Are you both coming now?”

  Both men nodded. Warrick lifted his computer bag and stuffed his papers and laptop inside. “We stay together.”

  “And what about at the hospital?”

  Corey turned to look at her. “Are you thinking Greg might try something there?”

  “I don’t know what I’m thinking. I just want to make sure Joshua is safe. Not just for now but forever.”

  Corey drove Angela’s car with her in the passenger seat. Warrick took Corey’s truck, following behind, watching for tails.

  The trip to the hospital took way too long. She struggled with fear and panic. She kept reminding herself over and over again, He’ll be fine. He’ll be fine. They got to him in time.

  Corey grasped her hand. “It’ll be okay.”

  She nodded. “I know. I just can’t believe you found him so fast.”

  “Cell phones are a really great technology. Particularly if they’re on. If Joshua had shut off that phone, it wouldn’t be anywhere near so easy.”

  She nodded. “He’s a smart little boy.” Inside, she was absolutely twisted over the concept of him calling out for help, tied up inside blankets, crying out for her, knowing he had been thrown into the trunk of a car. What he must have thought? “What an absolutely horrible thing to have done to my little boy,” she cried. “Why would Greg be such an asshole?”

  “And that’ll be one of the things Greg tells the judge—that Reginald wouldn’t have done something like that normally. And that, being distraught after losing his own boy, he was stealing Joshua for his own purposes. And it’s the prosecutor’s job to convince the judge that Reginald did this under Greg’s urging.”

  “Greg can say whatever the hell he wants, but it’s not the truth. Joshua knows what the truth is.”

  “Sure. It gives you wonderful
leverage for the judge to give you full custody of your son.”

  “But nobody’ll believe me. Greg’s already tried to make it look like I’m unstable.”

  “Except for one thing …”

  She turned to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “You put that call on Speakerphone, and now you have two very good witnesses.”

  She stared at him in shock and then in understanding. “That’s right. You and Warrick heard Joshua too.”

  Corey nodded. “And our witness testimony will carry a decent impact. Don’t you worry. We won’t let Greg get to Joshua without a fight.”

  She sat back and relaxed a bit. “Thank God you were there.”

  “Yes, thank God we were there. And thank God your little boy called you.”

  She couldn’t stop shaking. When he finally pulled into the hospital parking lot, she was out of her car in a split second.

  Corey rounded the car to get to her side. “Leave your bags here and just grab your purse. Let’s see what the deal is first.”

  She nodded. When he reached out for her hand, instinctively she grabbed his.

  He smiled and tucked her close. “This is a good visit. Put a smile on your face.”

  She shook her head. “No, this isn’t a good visit. This is a great visit.”

  As they got to the front reception area, Corey identified who they were and asked where Joshua was.

  The woman took down their names, pointed to the emergency area and said, “He’s down there, but he is surrounded by police.”

  Corey nodded, but Angela was already racing toward the uniformed officers. “Have you got Joshua? Is he here?”

  Several policemen stepped forward, but she could see her son in a tiny cubiclelike room behind them. Instead of a door it had a curtain, which was drawn open. “Joshua!” She squeezed past the officers to the bed.

  A doctor stood beside him. He looked at her and barked, “Don’t touch him.”

  She came to a skittering stop and stared. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He’s been drugged, and he’s having a reaction to the drug they used. We’re flushing his system and running a drug panel on his blood, but I think he was given a sedative, maybe an adult formulation instead of something for a child of his weight. But he’ll have to stay right here, so we can keep an eye on him. I don’t want you in the way.”

 

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