Snatched Super Boxset

by Hunt, James

  Michelle Tanner disappeared into her office, and Grant remained frozen in the empty hall as the last few classroom doors shut, with his hand still extended with his card. Finally, after a minute, he lowered his arm and then trudged out of Southside Middle and into the parking lot.

  Grant flexed his hand, looking down at the ring. He’d forgotten it was there, which was easy to do since he never took it off. And even if he did, that gold circle would never disappear. It represented a past that he couldn’t shake. When he reached his car door, a gust of wind gave an abnormal chill that seeped into his bones. He got inside the car quickly, and then his phone buzzed. It was Mocks.

  “What’d you find at the house?” Grant asked.

  “Not much,” Mocks answered. “There weren’t any signs of forced entry, and the girl’s room had a window that led to a fire escape. The window was still unlocked, so it looks like she may have left of her own will.”

  “Yeah, that fits with what I’m thinking as well. Both the principal and one of her teachers confirmed that Mallory was a loner. I think her English teacher may have been her best friend.”

  Mocks snorted. “Yeah, I don’t think she was winning any popularity contests.”

  “Did you find a notebook or journal anywhere in her room?” Grant asked.

  “A lot of books, but nothing like that. Why?”

  “Her English teacher said she always had a notebook she was scribbling things down in. If we found that, we might have a better idea of where she went and who went with her.” And the more and more Grant thought about it, the more he started to think that Mallory really did leave of her own accord. It seemed like the only thing going for her at the time was the fact that she was good in school. Her mother was never at home, and anyone that spent time with her would have realized that. Especially adults who could use that to their advantage.

  “Listen,” Mocks said, breaking Grant’s train of thought. “The dad’s probation officer got back to me. It looks like our father-of-the-year broke parole. He hasn’t heard from him in over a month. But I pulled some old property records, and it looks like the dad’s uncle has some property upstate.”

  Grant arched his eyebrows. “Upstate from Seattle?”

  “Yeah, so you can probably guess who just jumped up on our most wanted list.”

  “I can.”

  Seattle had a few growing problems. The first was the number of sex traffickers using ports to smuggle bodies from Pacific nations. Most were young girls, poor and desperate and tricked into thinking that they were heading for a better life. The second was the homeless epidemic. And the third was drugs, specifically opioids and meth that had manifested and been cultivated in Washington State’s northern border. It was an easy location to smuggle drugs from our great neighbors to the north and into the wooded areas where drug labs had popped up like camping sites.

  “We should ride together,” Grant said, getting into his car. “You head back to the station, and I’ll pick you up on the way.”

  “My money’s on deadbeat dad,” Mocks said. “Nine out of ten times it’s always family.”

  Grant started the engine. “We’ll find out when we find him.”

  * * *

  Civilization disappeared the farther north they drove. Every mile Grant saw fewer buildings and more trees. But that was the way the people who lived up here liked it. There were times when Grant pondered the life of isolation. He imagined it was incredibly simple. Simple could be good. But if he was alone, then he’d be stuck in his own mind all day, every day. And that would drive him mad.

  Mocks flicked her Bic lighter. It was her own way of dealing with the nerves. Grant didn’t mind the quiet though. It gave him time to think.

  But there was a roadblock that kept appearing: Principal Tanner. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the woman off of his mind. And with the case in front of him, that distraction was dangerous, both personally and professionally.

  “How did they communicate?” Mocks asked, peeking out from behind her shroud of silence. “Mallory and her dad?” She turned to face Grant. “She didn’t have a phone, and the dad’s background didn’t strike me as someone who would become a pen pal.”

  Grant shook his head, ridding himself of Michelle’s smile. “They could have met somewhere. The mom worked really late. It gave Mallory plenty of time to leave and come back without Mom being the wiser.”

  The turn off the highway was onto a dirt road, which was still wet from the morning rain, and Grant was forced to slow his speed down the one-lane path. They passed two trailers on their journey deeper into the woods, and their inhabitants scurried from their lawn chairs and back inside the moment they saw the car.

  “Looks like they’ve seen cops up here before,” Grant said.

  “I didn’t think we were that obvious,” Mocks replied.

  “Radio dispatch, give them an update on our location and have a unit on standby in case we need it.” Grant reached for his phone and checked the reception. “My phone doesn’t have a signal.”

  There had been a few cases of missing persons that had led Grant this far north before, and he discovered that the folks who enjoyed living on their own did not enjoy others meddling in their affairs. And when push came to shove, they were not afraid to shove back.

  They arrived at the trailer that matched the address Mocks found from the property records, and the brakes squeaked when Grant stopped the car.

  “You think he’ll run?” Mocks asked, unclipping her seat belt.

  “He might,” Grant answered.

  The sky was overcast, which only made the cold linger. It was worse up in the mountains. But the cold wind also carried the sounds of nature: birds, insects, and the light rustle of leaves. Grant would have considered it peaceful if not for the purpose of their mission.

  Both Grant and Mocks kept one hand on the butt of their service pistols as they approached the trailer. There were a few chairs in the yard, along with the truck that towed the trailer up here. The hunk of junk didn’t look like it ran anymore, but Grant made sure to box it in with his car anyway. The windows were taped over, a telltale sign that it was a drug lab.

  A rusted awning sat above the front door, and Grant pounded hard enough to shake the whole trailer and loosen some rust flakes that drifted to the ground. “Seattle PD! Open up!”

  Mocks kept her head on a swivel, her eyes scanning the area while Grant watched the door. It was quiet for a few seconds, and just before he pounded his fist on the door again, there was a loud crack that came from the back of the trailer. Mocks sprinted around the side, and Grant bust down the front door.

  A wave of heat and the stench of chemicals flooded his senses, stinging his eyes and nose. He blindly stumbled into the trailer and, through the back door exit where the suspect had fled, saw Mocks chasing him down, and he joined the pursuit, sprinting into the woods.

  The thick trees provided plenty of cover for their suspect to hide, and as the man darted between the trees, Grant thought he’d lost their man at least a half-dozen times.

  “Freeze! Police department!” Both Grant and Mocks repeated the order on their sprint, but Mr. Hoverty didn’t stop.

  A rock formation appeared, and Mr. Hoverty climbed over it to the other side with ease. Grant motioned for Mocks to stop, but his partner continued forward.

  “Mocks, no!” Grant said.

  Hoverty emerged at the top of the rock’s ledge, now armed with a rifle, and fired. Bullets disfigured the tree Mocks ducked behind, and Grant raised his 9mm Glock in retaliation.

  The ring of the gunshot, along with the recoil, paralyzed him for a moment. It’d been two years since he’d fired his weapon in the field, and he’d forgotten how harsh the sound of the gunshot was without ear protection.

  But the bullet did its job as Hoverty ducked back behind the rock while Grant and Mocks exchanged a glance from behind their respective trees. She motioned to curve around to the back side and take him by surprise. Grant nodded, th
e ringing still piercing his ears.

  Grant craned his neck around the tree trunk, his right shoulder scraping against the rough pine. He immediately directed his eyes toward the cluster of rocks which provided plenty of juts and mounds for Hoverty to maneuver.

  Two leaping steps and Grant ducked behind the cover of the next tree, repeating the process of ensuring Hoverty was still behind the rocks before each adrenaline-fueled sprint. Between runs, another gunshot thundered from the rocks, and Grant saw Mocks crouched low behind one of the thinner trees where Hoverty had pinned her down with gunfire.

  Grant stepped around the trunk of his own tree, exposing himself to gunfire, and managed to squeeze off three shots that sent Hoverty cowering behind the rocks. Grant glanced left and saw a clear path up the left side of the rocky protrusion. He sprinted up the uneven slope, his lungs catching fire from the cold air. His eyes stayed glued to the ridgeline, knowing that any moment Hoverty could appear over the side and blow him off the face of the earth. But he didn’t.

  Grant leapt over the ledge, Hoverty too busy reloading his rifle to notice the detective barreling down on him. Grant tackled Hoverty, and the pair rolled down the back side, elbows, knees, and limbs smacking against the hard and jagged edges of rock, the cold amplifying the pain by ten.

  Their tumble ended at the base of the rocks, and Grant and Hoverty rolled onto the soil and leaves. Both the Glock and rifle had left their owners’ hands, and Grant did his best to corral the pain from the collisions down the mountain, searching for the pistol.

  Finally, Grant spied the Glock in the dirt, and he scrambled on all fours toward it until a heavy weight flattened him back to the earth.

  Hoverty rammed his fist into the detective’s lower back and left side. Grant jammed his elbow into Hoverty’s rib and knocked him off. A gunshot rang out, and for a moment Grant thought Hoverty had gotten hold of his rifle. But instead of pain, he heard Mocks’s voice.

  “Grant! You all right?”

  The combination of the punches and the fall from the rocks left him groaning as he pushed himself off the ground slowly. “Yeah.” He retrieved the pistol, holstered the weapon, and then removed his handcuffs. Grant manhandled Hoverty onto his stomach and pinched the steel around his wrists nice and tight. With the suspect apprehended, Grant took a moment to catch his breath while Mocks finally lowered her own weapon.

  “You’re sure you’re all right?” Mocks asked.

  “Just need to catch my breath.” Grant nodded toward Hoverty. “Let’s get him back to the trailer. See why he was in such a hurry to run.”

  4

  Grant’s inquiry into why Hoverty had run didn’t take much investigation. The inside of the trailer was filled with enough drug paraphernalia to supply meth to the entire state of Washington. And in addition to the drugs, Grant found a trove of unregistered firearms, along with a filing cabinet filled with documents that seemed out of place.

  Mocks poked her head inside just as Grant started sifting through them. “Backup is on their way. Might be a while though since the closest unit is in another county.” She gestured to the cabinet. “What’d you find?”

  Blank forms with legal jargon plastered over the pages. “They look like government forms.” Grant shook his head. “It’s nothing I recognize though.”

  Mocks stepped inside, and Grant handed her a stack of the papers. “Christ, the whole cabinet is full of them.”

  Grant stepped outside, a handful of the papers still in his hand, and made his way to the car where Hoverty sat in the backseat, handcuffed. He flung the door open and shoved the papers into Hoverty’s face. “What are these?”

  Hoverty kept his face forward. His cheeks were thick with a matted beard, and his forehead and neck beaded sweat, despite the frigid cold. Grant figured he must have been coming down off of something. The man wouldn’t stop shaking.

  “You’ve got a trailer full of drugs and firearms, and you assaulted two police officers,” Grant said. “You don’t have a lot of leverage right now.”

  “All that stuff was in the fuckin’ place when I got there, man.” Hoverty kept his head low when he spoke. “All I do is show up and make the drugs. They don’t tell me nothin’ else.”

  “Who’s they?” Grant asked.

  Hoverty chuckled. “Like I’m gonna tell you, shithead?”

  Grant glanced down at his watch, the timer just now reaching the five-and-a-half-hour mark. Once they crossed into six-hour territory, it was a race to find Mallory before it hit twelve. After that the chances of finding her were cut in half every subsequent hour. There wasn’t time for delicacy.

  Grant one-handed the back of Hoverty’s neck and yanked him from the car. The man couldn’t have weighed more than a buck-fifty, and Grant tossed him to the ground with ease. Hoverty smacked the dirt and let out a loud groan. “What the fuck, man?”

  Every cop had a threshold. Some were shorter than others. Grant had always considered himself to have a very long one, but there were a few times where he dared to peek over the edge. He’d seen what the bottom of that cliff looked like, and the last time he inched his toes over the side he nearly killed himself. It was the farthest he’d ever gone. There was always great perspective when faced against the finality of death. He hadn’t been there for over two years, but he wasn’t afraid to at least toy with the idea. And that was always bad for suspects.

  Grant towered over Hoverty, who lay pinned on his back like an exposed turtle. Grant thrust a finger in his face, and he felt blood rush to his cheeks from the sudden burst of anger. “Who’s your boss?”

  Hoverty lifted his head from the dirt, his beard smeared in soil. He shook his head in defiance, so Grant wrapped his hand around Hoverty’s throat. All the while Mocks just leaned against the car and crossed her arms. She knew him. She trusted him.

  “You tell me right now, or I’ll take you back into the woods and beat you with your own goddamn rifle,” Grant said.

  Hoverty’s cheeks flushed a crimson red as Grant tightened his grip. “You don’t have the balls.”

  Grant looked to his partner. “What do you think, Mocks? Is Mr. Hoverty resisting arrest?”

  Mocks tilted her head to the side, while Hoverty choked for air. “Why, yes, I believe he is.”

  “Bullshit!” Hoverty said, a small spray of spittle ejecting from his lips.

  Grant slammed his fist into the left side of Hoverty’s rib cage, and a raspy scream escaped the choke hold Grant had clamped on his throat.

  “Who are you working for?” Grant asked.

  Hoverty kept his mouth sealed, but one more punch to the ribs and he nodded furiously. Grant released his hand, and Hoverty hacked and coughed, wheezing as he inhaled, and Grant wiped the snot from under his nose with his sleeve. It’d been a while since he had to work someone like that.

  “Christ, man,” Hoverty said. “I’m working for Baez’s crew, all right?”

  Unfortunately it was a name that every officer in the state of Washington knew. His gang had helped the drug epidemic become so bad in Seattle that the DEA had set up a command post in the city. Baez had turned Seattle into the northwest drug hub of the United States.

  “How the hell did you guys even know I was here?” Hoverty asked. “My probation officer didn’t even bother to come looking for me!”

  The longer Hoverty spoke, the more Grant realized that the man had no idea what happened to his daughter. Grant stepped toward Hoverty, and the man recoiled.

  “Your daughter is missing,” Grant said. “Have any of the people you work with threatened to take her? Owe any bad debts you can’t pay off?”

  Hoverty scrunched his face up. “What? Hell no! I don’t fuck around with these people. Shit, no one even knows I have a daughter. I don’t ever see her. I don’t call her. Whatever happened to that girl isn’t my problem.”

  Grant picked him up and shoved him into the backseat and slammed the door shut. Mocks followed Grant back to the trailer, both of them quiet until they reached t
he awning.

  “You’ve had a lot of excitement for one day,” Mocks said. “You turning into an adrenaline junkie on me?”

  “I don’t think I have the stomach for that sort of thing,” Grant said, and now that he had retreated from the threshold, his body grew tired. He leaned against the trailer for support and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “What are the odds that this guy got in too deep with the drug cartel and they took his daughter as leverage?”

  “Slim, considering there wasn’t any ransom note,” Mocks answered. “Not to mention that the guy doesn’t give a shit what happens to his daughter either way.”

  “The two possibilities here were family or a child predator. And I think it’s safe to say we can cross this guy off the list,” Grant said. “Someone has been working Mallory Givens for a while and finally convinced her to hop on board.”

  “Which means our guy is still on the loose.”

  * * *

  Once backup arrived to case the scene and log evidence, Mocks and Grant took Mr. Hoverty back to the station for processing. Normally they would have dropped him off at the local precinct, but seeing as how they claimed jurisdiction over the case, as well as Grant’s desire to make sure the piece of crap got what he deserved, they took care of him personally.

  Hoverty demanded to speak to a lawyer for nearly half the trip back and vowed that both Grant and Mocks would lose their badges for what they did to him, but the moment they stepped into the station, the gusto ran out of him.

  Grant stopped at the front desk on their way inside and motioned for Mocks to go ahead with processing. “Give the DEA a call and let them know we found a lab they can take a look at. They’ll have more resources to deal with that mess than we do. Once Hoverty is processed, we’re done with him. I wanna follow up with the lieutenant about the Amber Alert request.”

  “Tell him he better speed up the process,” Mocks said. “You want me to call the mom and give her an update on her ex-lover?”