Smoke Screen (The Darcy Lynch Series Book 2)

by Elin Barnes

  Darcy flipped page after page of his notes until he found what he was looking for.

  “Here. I think I have something,” he said, stabbing a word nobody else could see.

  “What, for Christ’s sakes?” Sorensen asked.

  “Well, remember when we went to Mitchell’s condo? We were talking to Jamal Johnston, and he told us that Mitchell has the best two-bedroom in the entire building.”

  “Yeah, so what?” Sorensen’s voice had that annoyed tone he got when Darcy was starting to piss him off.

  “When we went to talk to Mitchell, I went snooping. I only saw one bedroom.” Darcy looked from one to the other, his eye shining, but found no reciprocity. “Don’t you get it?”

  “No. So Johnston had it wrong. So what?”

  “Or,” Darcy offered, “Johnston got it right.” Without further explanation, he left Virago and Sorensen as clueless as they had been before and ran to his desk to call Jon.

  “I need you to find who sold Mitchell his condo. The security guard said he’d bought it a couple years ago.”

  “Okay, let me see.”

  Darcy could hear the intern typing on the keyboard.

  “How are you doing, by the way?” Darcy asked.

  “Better every day. I think they said they might release me next weekend.”

  “Early enough for Thanksgiving?”

  “Maybe.” Before Darcy could say anything, he added, “I found it. Lily Folsom.”

  Jon gave him her contact info. Darcy thanked him, and as soon as he hung up he dialed her number. A woman answered after the second ring. Her voice was assertive, clear, and sophisticated. She probably catered only to the rich. Darcy wondered again about how much money Mitchell really had.

  He introduced himself and gave her enough information for context, then said, “I need to know if the condo you sold him was a one- or two-bedroom.”

  “It was a one-bedroom,” she said.

  He felt as if a brick wall had just fallen on him. “Are you sure? The security guard in the building seemed to think it had two.”

  “Well, technically it did.” She paused. When he didn’t say anything else, she went on: “Originally the condo had two bedrooms, but the previous owners had converted one into a safe room.”

  “Yes.” Darcy punched the table and smiled. Then, realizing he had Virago and Sorensen’s attention, he waved them over. He put the phone on speaker.

  “What can you tell me about the safe room?” he asked, checking that the other two were now on the same page.

  “Pretty standard. Disguised by a bookcase. Biometrics to get in. Full video and comm system.”

  “Can the manufacturer get in?”

  “Well, I believe they always have a way to override the system.”

  “Who was the manufacturer?”

  “I don’t know offhand. I’ll have to look it up in my files.”

  “Okay, we’ll wait,” Darcy said.

  After a brief moment, she said, “I’m showing a mansion in ten minutes. I can call you in about an hour and half.”

  “Miss Folsom, this is a matter of life and death. I need this information in the next thirty seconds. Call your assistant.” Darcy looked at Sorensen.

  “She doesn’t have access.”

  “Well, you better give it to her then,” Darcy pushed.

  Miss Folsom smacked her lips so hard it almost sounded as if she’d hung up the phone. “Give me five minutes.”

  They hung up and waited. Sorensen went to the vending machine for another cold drink. Darcy went to get coffee for himself and Virago.

  The phone didn’t ring. They all stared at it as they sipped their drinks.

  “We only have forty-three minutes left,” Virago said.

  “Let me head over there. When she calls, patch me in so I can listen,” Darcy said.

  “You go too,” she told Sorensen.

  Darcy still had her keys, so they ran downstairs to Virago’s car. As soon as they got in, Sorensen’s phone rang. He put it on speaker.

  “She just called. The manufacturer is Barusch and Sons. I’ll give them a call and get a patrol to go pick them up and take them to Mitchell’s.”

  Chapter 103

  The entrance of the High Sights building was an eyesore. It was still black with soot, and the smell of ash assaulted Darcy’s nostrils the moment they walked inside.

  They met with the Mountain View Police officer who was guarding the area. “Everybody was evacuated, and the bomb squad finished the sweep about a half hour ago. There’s nobody inside,” the officer said after they introduced themselves.

  “We need to go into one of the units,” Darcy said.

  “The elevators don’t work.” The officer looked apologetic.

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. There’s no way to get one working for a little bit?” Sorensen asked.

  “I’m afraid not.” He shook his head for emphasis.

  “I think you’ll be climbing the twenty-three flights by yourself, my friend,” Sorensen said to Darcy.

  “See, I told you you needed to get in shape. You never know when you’ll need to sprint in hot pursuit, or climb some stairs.” He started walking toward the emergency exit door. “Call me as soon as the guy shows up from the Barusch company.”

  “You better pray he’s not fat, or you’ll be doing this remotely.”

  Darcy stopped walking for a moment. That thought hadn’t occurred to him.

  The first five flights weren’t a problem. Darcy was actually almost enjoying getting his heart rate up. The next five were not as pleasant, and by the time he reached the fifteenth floor he no longer had a spring in his step. When he was about to step on the landing for the twentieth floor, his phone rang.

  “Yeah?” He was hoping to hide it, but he was out of breath, and it showed.

  “Enjoying it much?”

  “I hope you didn’t call to mock me. At least I’m doing it.”

  He kept climbing.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll tell Virago to give you a commendation or something. Anyway, the guy’s here. He’s like you, so he’ll be meeting you up there in a couple minutes.”

  “Great.”

  Darcy hung up.

  Nothing on the twenty-third floor would indicate that the building had been vacated. It looked normal. Quiet, but not spookily quiet. He was about to walk down the hallway but then decided to wait for the guy. He checked his watch. They had less than twenty minutes before Mitchell would call again. If he was punctual.

  A few minutes later a tall, lanky guy in his late twenties opened the emergency exit door and met him on the landing.

  “Darcy Lynch.” He extended his hand.

  The man looked at it for a second, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with it, then took it. His shake was surprisingly strong.

  “Roberto Gonzalez,” he said.

  Maybe not all the “sons” were actual sons of Barusch, Darcy thought.

  “You installed this one?” Darcy asked, already rushing down the hallway.

  Roberto, still a bit out of breath, followed suit.

  “Yes,” he said. “It was one of my first jobs. Well, I assisted. I didn’t do the installation myself, but Mr. Barusch couldn’t make it because he’s in a wheelchair.”

  They reached the door, and Darcy picked the lock. The place looked exactly as it had when he was there with Sorensen. He didn’t really know where to go, so he took step aside and let Roberto lead.

  The kid took a piece of paper from his jacket pocket, unfolded and studied it for a few seconds.

  “I remember now,” he said, looking up. “It’s behind the bookshelf.”

  Darcy followed his stare and saw the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that he didn’t even think twice about when he was here last time.

  “You can open it?” Darcy asked.

  Roberto had managed to figure out what books were hiding the keypad to gain access.

  “Yeah. Every single one of these things has an override.”
r />   “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”

  “Uh? No,” Roberto said, and looked at Darcy, pausing what he was doing.

  Darcy urged him to continue, pointing at the keypad with his hand, and explained, “If somebody can gain access to the override, the safe room is not that safe.”

  Roberto didn’t say anything for a few moments. Darcy wondered if he was thinking about his comment, or the kid was concentrating on what he was doing.

  Then he stopped again and, pushing his glasses up on the top of his nose, he said, “Well, I guess it depends on what you want the room for. I guess it is possible that somebody could get the override code and then do a home invasion, but we keep the codes pretty well safeguarded, so I don’t know.”

  Darcy looked at his watch. Nine minutes to go.

  “Please go on. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Right, right.”

  Roberto flipped over the paper and looked at some scribbles. He punched in a few numbered sequences and waited. There was no green light flashing; there was no sound of a door opening.

  “Hummm,” Roberto said.

  “What? What’s going on?”

  “Well, that should have worked.”

  “What does that mean? You can’t open it?”

  Seven minutes.

  “This should have opened it.” He looked at the paper again, then at the keypad. “Let me try again. Maybe I mistyped something.”

  Roberto tapped the keys a bit more slowly this time. At the end of the sequence, nothing happened.

  “What?” Darcy asked, wanting to pace up and down the living room, but he remained where he was.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Well, fix it. We have five minutes left.” Darcy raised his voice.

  “I have to call my boss. Maybe he wrote it down wrong.”

  Roberto pulled his cell out of his pocket and made the call. Darcy watched his every move, listened to each word, only breaking his stare when he checked the time. He was starting to hope that Mitchell wasn’t a punctual man. But he was sure he was.

  “We have three minutes,” Darcy said as the kid listened to what his boss was saying on the receiver.

  Roberto moved back to the keypad. He held the phone between his ear and his shoulder, and while he listened he started pressing keys again.

  Chapter 104

  Ethan knew he wouldn’t be able to make it all the way to San Jose in one hour. But he would be close. Besides, he had to be really careful about how he moved through the city. There were webcams and cops that could spot him. Then the game would be over.

  He had one more hand to play. It would either work and his mom would be left alone, or it wouldn’t. The charges were bogus, and he doubted they would actually fabricate evidence against her, but he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure they wouldn’t. What worried him most was her health. They could make her life miserable for a while, and she didn’t deserve that. So the best thing that could happen was for them to release his mom in exchange for the hooker.

  Ethan checked the clock on the dashboard and saw there were only five minutes until the detective’s time was up. He saw the E Dunne Ave exit and took it. Morgan Hill was a good town to stop in and make a call. He took a left on Murphy Avenue and then a right on James Court. He parked under a tree. He wasn’t too paranoid about satellites, but one couldn’t be too careful.

  He looked at the dashboard. The time showed 4:43 p.m. He checked his watch to confirm and then dialed from his throwaway. It rang. After the third ring, he started to wonder if the detective wasn’t going to pick up. He checked the number. He had it memorized. It was correct. The phone rang one more time. Ethan stared at his watch as the time changed to 4:44 p.m.

  After the fifth ring, the voice mail kicked in. He couldn’t believe it. He hung up. Still holding the phone, Ethan looked up through the windshield. There was a huge house at the end of the courtyard. The phone lay inert, resting in his hand. This was the first time he’d been genuinely surprised since this operation started. Not even when Malik died of a heart attack had he been as stunned as he was now.

  “Maybe the dick has the ringer off,” he wondered out loud, and decided to call again.

  The phone rang. And rang. But this time it only rang three times. Then the voice mail started again. For a second, Ethan considered leaving a message, but he decided against it. He wasn’t sure he would be able to mask the surprise he felt. He hung up.

  “What the fuck?” he yelled as he smashed the phone against the dashboard until it broke into pieces. One edge dug into his palm, making him bleed. He didn’t even feel the pain, but the stickiness of the blood made him stop. “Fuck!” he yelled again, and hurled the remaining bits of the phone on the floor.

  Ethan grabbed his duffel bag from the backseat and searched inside until he found his emergency kit. He inspected the gash. It was about two inches long and probably a quarter-inch deep. He poured disinfectant on and sewed a few stitches, then covered it with antiseptic tape. He put both hands on the steering wheel but didn’t start the car. He stared out in front of him at the huge house and thought about what had just happened.

  Either the asshole missed the call—doubtful—or they’d decided they were going to play hard to get.

  A third option was lurking, but he wasn’t ready to consider it yet.

  Chapter 105

  “I need the paramedics right now!” Darcy shouted into the phone before he let it drop on the floor.

  Aislin was unconscious, propped against the wall with one arm raised by a chain hooked to the ceiling. Both wrists were crusted with dry blood, and the one holding her up was raw almost to the bone.

  “Go to the emergency exit where you came in and wait for the paramedics, then run back here with them,” he told Roberto.

  The kid didn’t move. He seemed in shock, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “Now.” Darcy snapped his fingers in front of his face.

  “Right. Sorry,” he apologized, and ran out of the safe room.

  Darcy managed to get the chain unhooked from the ceiling. He picked her up and carried her out of the room. The clanking behind them was deafening. He laid her down on the sofa and checked her pulse. It was faint, and her lips and nails were surprisingly blue.

  He grabbed a blanket from Ethan’s bedroom and covered her. He then went back to the torture chamber to pick up his phone. That’s when he saw that he had two missed calls. The number was blocked.

  He’d missed Mitchell’s calls.

  While he waited for the paramedics, he thought about Mitchell. Two calls. That was significant. Mitchell wanted to talk to Darcy more than Darcy had imagined. Nobody calls twice when they have the upper hand.

  Interesting.

  “Hey, Mitchell called. Twice,” he told Sorensen on the phone.

  “Twice? What did he say?”

  “I missed them.”

  Silence.

  “Okay, the paramedics are here. As soon as they reach you, come back down. We got a lot of shit to do,” Sorensen said.

  Darcy looked at Aislin, now covered all the way up to her neck. She looked like a little girl sleeping, except for the blue lips. There were no other sign on her face of what she’d just gone through.

  A few minutes later the paramedics burst into the room. Darcy wondered how they were able to climb twenty-three floors with all their equipment and the gurney in such a short amount of time. He felt old.

  “What can you tell me, Detective?” a burly guy with a healthy mustache asked him while the other two started working on Aislin. His name tag said “Gowan.”

  “She’s probably been here since Tuesday night. She’s suffered numerous bouts of torture. Some of the injuries look fresher than others. She might have been poisoned.”

  Gowan looked at Aislin, then nodded when he saw her blue lips. Darcy shared as many details as he could about her, the investigation, and Mitchell.

  “Can you take her to O’Connor in Sa
n Jose?” Darcy asked.

  “Why? That’s pretty far.” The paramedic sounded annoyed.

  “Her sister’s there. She was in a hit-and-run Thursday and is slowly recuperating.”

  “Some bad luck.”

  “Related case.”

  “Okay, we’ll assess on the way.” Gowan eyed Aislin, then added, “But we may have to go to Stanford.”

  “I understand. Thanks.”

  Darcy shook Gowan’s hand before heading out.

  The hallway seemed shorter than when he had come in, and he ran down the stairs. Even though it was much easier going down than climbing them, Darcy was out of breath by the time he reached Sorensen.

  “You drive,” Darcy said, handing him Virago’s keys.

  “Finally.”

  Chapter 106

  “So, you missed two calls?” Sorensen asked once they were in the car driving on Highway 101 back to the station.

  “Yeah, back to back. No voice mail.”

  “You know for sure it was him?”

  “Well, it was a blocked number, but the first one was exactly at 4:43 p.m.”

  “And you didn’t answer?”

  Darcy eyed him and felt a burning sensation building up in his gut. Sorensen didn’t meet his stare.

  “You didn’t see what this bastard did to Saffron’s sister. He’s an animal.”

  “Just busting your chops.” The side of Sorensen’s mouth turned slightly upwards.

  Darcy shook his head. He should have known better than to fall for it.

  “How is she?”

  “Alive. Barely.”

  Darcy described what he found when they opened the safe room.

  “That guy’s a real psycho,” Sorensen said after hearing the full description. “He can’t possibly know that we got the girl.”

  Darcy thought about this. That was probably true.

  “Okay, so let’s say he doesn’t know,” Darcy started speculating. “And let’s say he calls back. What do we tell him?”