“I should call Casey,” Grady said, rubbing his forehead.
“I sent a message for him to go underground.”
Grady nodded. “Kierson, you can’t report this. It’s one thing to hide Casey and Caleb from one marshal. It’s a whole lot harder to hide them from both the FBI and the U.S. Marshal’s office. Hell, they’d probably expand the alert to every unit under the DOJ. We’d have thousands of Feds crashing down on us.”
“And even if we managed to keep Casey and Caleb hidden, Laurie would be killed as soon as the alert was issued,” I admitted aloud.
“You think she’s still alive?” Kierson asked.
“At the moment, yes, she’s alive. Brian Griffith isn’t doing this to get his son back. It’s about Laurie.”
“Explain,” Grady said.
“He found them. He could’ve gone to the school and had Caleb held until he could prove that he was his father. But he didn’t. Instead, he went to the diner to spook Laurie. Then when she ran home to grab her go bags, he was waiting for her.”
“He wants to hurt her. Make her suffer,” Grady said.
“Exactly. And he had a plan. He studied the area. He knew how to get in and out of Laurie’s neighborhood without being spotted. Where did he park his car? Where’s Laurie’s car?”
“The police talked to her neighbors,” Kierson said. “The ones who were home didn’t see or hear anything.”
“This is a small town. The neighbors would’ve noticed an unfamiliar car on a dead-end road.”
“You think he walked there?” Grady asked. “Then how did he get her out?”
“He either knocked her out, thus the blood that was found in the kitchen, or he drugged her. Maybe both. Then he loaded her into her own car and drove away.”
“I’ll get a BOLO out,” Kierson said, pulling his phone out.
“Wait,” Grady said, shaking his head and moving over to the map. “I don’t think you need to.”
Grady leaned over my shoulder, studying the map.
“This is her house?” Grady asked.
“Yup. Acres of woods border the property.”
“He must’ve parked somewhere on the outskirts of the woods and walked to Laurie’s from there,” Grady said.
“But the river cuts through a good chunk of the woods. He would’ve avoided that,” I said, pointing to the map.
“Right, so that leaves only two areas. Here and here.” He pointed to the map.
“Has to be the first one. The second area would force him to drive Laurie’s car back through town to get back to his car. He wouldn’t risk it.”
“Who’s sober enough to drive?” Grady asked.
“I am,” I answered before running to my room to grab my shoulder bag.
Chapter Twelve
“Turn right,” Kierson said as he monitored his Google map from his phone. “We’re in the right area. We’ll need to search the next dozen or so dead-end roads for the next half mile.”
“Or flag down some help,” I said, flashing my headlights at the approaching cop car and pulling to the side of the road. “Well?” I looked at Kierson. “Get out your badge and do your part.”
The cop car did a U-turn and parked behind us as Kierson got out, flashing his badge in clear view with his hands visible.
“Fed?” one of the officers said, climbing out of the patrol car. “You lost?”
“We’re looking for a 2012 blue Honda. You see a car like that abandoned around here?”
The other officer nodded. “Down on Dung Trail. We tagged it to be towed in the morning if it’s still there.”
“We need you to take us to that car. It’s evidence in an abduction case.”
“Sure. Follow us.”
Kierson slid back into the passenger seat and looked at me. “Well? Do your thing. Follow the cops.”
“Did they really say Dung Trail?” Grady chuckled.
I pulled out behind the cops. We passed four gravel roads before turning right. A blue Honda sat at the end of a cul-de-sac. I flashed my lights for the cops to stop as I pulled off to the side. They had most likely already disturbed the ground near the car, but we didn’t need to add more tire tracks to the mess.
Kierson got out to talk to the cops as I handed latex gloves over my shoulder to Grady and put on a pair for myself.
“Flashlight?” Grady asked.
I handed him one of four mini-mag lights I kept in my shoulder bag.
“You sure you want to walk up there? You could be wrong. She could be dead already.”
“She’s not,” I answered as I got out of the SUV.
Kierson kept the local cops back as Grady and I searched the ground in a slow grid starting twenty feet from the car. He worked his way toward the passenger side as I worked toward the driver’s side.
“Cigarette butt!” Grady called out.
Kierson approached from behind Grady and bagged the cigarette, asking the officers if it could be theirs. Both officers insisted they didn’t smoke.
“Three more,” Grady called out. “Looks like someone stood here waiting for something.”
“If he got here early, he may have waited until late morning for any local hunters to clear out,” I said, without looking up from the ground I was searching.
“I don’t understand,” Kierson said.
“A lot of hunters will hunt early morning until late morning, then hunt again mid afternoon until dark, like a split shift.”
“She’s right,” one of the officers said. “It’s not typically an all-day event around here.”
“Would our guy have known that?” Kierson asked.
“I don’t know. I did.”
Grady chuckled, and Kierson bagged the other cigarettes.
My side of the car was so covered with layers upon layers of tire tracks, trying to decipher any of it was a waste of time. I turned and shined my light inside the car. A section of the back seat was darker, most likely a blood stain. The driver’s seat was set as far back as it would go. I tested the driver’s door and found it unlocked. Reaching in, I popped the trunk. Four sets of eyes turned and waited for me.
“How many times do I have to repeat myself? She’s not dead,” I said, lifting the trunk lid.
The trunk, as expected, was filled with boxes, garbage bags of clothes, and non-perishable groceries. Laurie had kept it loaded and ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed.
I turned my attention to the police officers. “Is there a local tow guy who can store this car for us? I need it to be locked down and everything kept just as it is until we find the victim. It’s evidence, but it’s useless to us at the moment.”
“We could impound it.”
“No. I don’t want local cops getting curious. No offense. I’m thinking more like someone’s pole barn.”
“Sure. Marty could tow and store it.”
“Call him. I’ll pay two hundred now and two hundred when we pick it up later, but he has to make sure no one goes near this car.”
“Well, shit. Now I wish I had a pole barn.” The other officer pouted as he scratched his head.
“Shut it, Nelson. Can’t you tell these folks are professionals,” the first officer said.
I wasn’t sure how many professionals had evidence stored in someone’s pole barn, but I was glad they weren’t putting that together. I walked back to the SUV and pulled a business card and two-hundred dollars. On the way back, I asked for one of Kierson’s business cards. I handed both cards and the money to one of the officers. “Only Kierson or I have clearance to retrieve this vehicle. No one else. I don’t care who they are or how shiny their badge is.”
“Yes, ma’am. Marty will do right by you. He likes getting paid cash.”
“Just make sure he knows that if anyone else claims the car, he doesn’t get the other two hundred.”
“For two hundred, Marty would hide a body for you,” the officer said. “Don’t you worry none. He’ll lock it up good and tight.”<
br />
I smirked “Nice to know.”
Grady had one eyebrow cocked as he looked around. “You boys got a local map handy?”
Officer Nelson got the requested map as Officer Kern called tow truck driver Marty. I helped Grady spread the map out on the hood of the police cruiser while Nelson and Kierson held flashlights for us. It was nearly three in the morning. We were way behind our kidnapper.
“You’re the profiler,” Grady said.
“This is the main road. He wouldn’t take it back the way he came. His natural instinct would tell him to go the other direction. He also wouldn’t want to hit any of these small towns. He’d still be worried someone could later identify him as being in the area.”
“He’s not driving his own vehicle, right?”
“No. He’s more likely to rent a vehicle under fake ID. His job definitely gives him the ability to set up fake credentials.”
“So he went north? To the interstate?”
“Probably not,” Kierson said. “There are cameras all along the interstate that could prove he was in the area when Laurie was abducted.”
I followed the lines. “He cut around the city, and then would’ve taken Highway 83 south.”
“But then where? If he heads back to Arlington, there are a hundred different highways he can use to turn east.”
“No clue,” I said, stepping away from the map. “He could be anywhere.” I dragged my hands up into my hair and pulled the hair scrunchy out. Grady reached out and rubbed my shoulders. “We need more information. Even if we confirm which way this guy is heading, we have no way of tracking him at this point. Kierson, it’s time to call Tebbs.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
I glanced over at him. “She’s still alive, but she’s running out of time. Make the call.”
Kierson muttered a few cuss words but stepped away to make the call. A few minutes later he walked back, handing me the phone.
“Good morning, sir,” I said as I glared at Kierson.
“Harrison, what the hell is going on?”
“What did Kierson tell you?”
“That you ordered him to call me.”
“Well, sir, you’re not going to like what I have to say.”
“Out with it.”
I flipped Kierson the bird before walking toward the road to speak freely away from the local officers. “We have reason to believe that a deputy U.S. Marshal kidnapped his estranged wife and is taking her to an unknown location to kill her. But if an alert goes out, he’ll execute her quickly and scurry back to safety.”
“Shit.”
“It gets worse. His wife ran away with their son. We relocated the boy, and he’s protected. But at this point we’re obstructing justice by not reporting it. And before you ask, Kierson doesn’t know where the boy is, we made sure of that.”
“And you called me? Why?”
“We need the marshal’s employee file to help us build our profile. But the U.S. Marshal’s office can’t be aware that we requested it.”
“Is that all? Just a classified file from another federal agency?” Jack sputtered.
“Come on, Jack. Don’t tell me you don’t have the cajones to go after that file.”
“Shit,” he mumbled.
“It’s not great news, but it could be worse.”
“How?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Like having a prisoner in an FBI holding cell murdered?”
“Not funny,” he snapped.
“It’s a little funny,” I said, holding back my laughter.
He was silent for a few moments before he sighed. “I know a director at the Marshal’s office, but he’d turn the request over to an analyst to pull the file.”
“That doesn’t work, sir. But what if he met with one of our FBI analysts and allowed her to use his password while she pulled the records?”
“Sharing passwords isn’t allowed.”
“It’s unconventional, but if he watched her while she ran the search, then changed his password afterward, I’d think in a life and death situation it would be ruled acceptable.”
“Who’s the analyst?”
“Genie. You met her in Miami,” I answered as I walked back to the vehicles to stand with the others.
“The soft-spoken girl who looks like a high school student?”
“She’s a wiz, sir. And she can be in Arlington in three hours.”
“Have her call me when she lands. I’ll call Richard.”
“Thank—” I heard the bleep on the phone telling me the call had ended. I looked up at Kierson. “You suck.”
Kierson grinned at me. “Special Agent Tebbs likes you for some reason. He would’ve screeched at me for thirty minutes.”
“Wake Genie and get her on a plane. She’s to call Jack when she lands.”
Kierson continued grinning as he took his phone back and made the call. I pulled my own phone from my back pocket and called Maggie.
“Do you know what time it is?” She laughed, sounding wide awake.
“Obviously, I’m not dragging you out of dreamland. What are you doing up this late?”
“I’ve been getting a biker drunk enough to talk. It took a while, but it was worth it. He had a lot to say about your boy Axle Sorato.”
“That will have to wait. I need you to man up and fly to Virginia. When you get there, meet up with Genie and stay by her side. Consider your little pissing match with Kierson on hold until this case is closed.”
“If this is a formal case, I have to get approved.”
“Use the credit card I gave you and get your ass there. I’m not asking.” I hung up, stuffing the phone back into my pocket.
“You think she’ll show?” Grady asked.
“She’ll show. Maggie and Charlie are two peas from the same fricken pod. They’ll throw their tizzy fits, but when someone’s ass is on the line, they step up to the plate.”
“You’re tired. You need some sleep.” He rested a hand on my shoulder and pulled me into his chest.
“Laurie doesn’t have much time, Grady,” I whispered.
“There’s not much we can do right now. Let’s head back to the B&B until we know which direction to move next.”
I nodded. It wasn’t much of a plan, but we’d hit a dead end. At least back at the inn, we’d be only twenty minutes from the private airport.
Chapter Thirteen
It took just under an hour to get back to the B&B. We found Mrs. A in the kitchen, picking dried cheese off the map that I’d left on the table.
“Sorry.” I grimaced, tucking my bag into a chair and helping to scrape the dried chunks off.
“No worries. I actually thought it quite creative,” she said, not looking up from her task. “Visitors arrived while you were out. One of them is sleeping on the couch in the parlor. A man and woman went upstairs to drop their luggage off in your room. They said you wouldn’t mind.”
“Really? It’s near four in the morning. Did you get their names?”
“Bridget and I stole your room,” Bones said, entering the kitchen with an arm wrapped around Bridget’s shoulder. “Pink, huh?”
“Yeah. Makes me feel like a princess.” They both knew that I abhorred Sara’s obsession with pastels.
Bridget giggled, and Bones’ grin widened.
“Why is Donovan sleeping on the couch?” Grady asked, entering the kitchen.
“Unfortunately, the inn’s fourth room is out of commission at the moment,” Mrs. A. said. “I never assembled the new bed. I sent a text to Fred, though. He’ll likely arrive near dawn. Car sales aren’t a booming business around here, so he sidelines as a husband for hire.”
We all grinned at Mrs. A., not saying anything.
“Not like that!” she sputtered. “Single women hire him to do their honey-do lists.”
Bridget and I looked at each other and giggled. Grady wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against him. I could feel the vibrations of him silently laughing as he tucked hi
s face into my shoulder.
“I hired him to set up the bed! That’s all!” Mrs. A. muttered before spraying some glass cleaner on the map and polishing it. “You youngins’ have dirty minds!”
“I’ll rehang the map,” Grady offered after she had cleaned it.
“You don’t have to do that. You’re a guest.”
“I’m sure most of your guests don’t take your wall hangings down and keep you up all night.”
“You’re trying to find Laurie. What’s a little lost sleep compared to that. Any luck?”
“We found her car,” I answered. “But the man who took her is long gone.”
“You know who it is then?”
“We have a name, but we’re waiting on the rest of the details.” I looked up at the clock. “Looks like we have time for a two-hour nap.”
“All of us?” Bridget asked. “Or do you have something you want us to do?”
“There’s nothing on the task list at the moment that hasn’t already been assigned out. I’ll need everyone ready at dawn, though.”
“You got it boss,” Bridget said as she pulled Bones by the hand out of the room.
“Are you going to let me bunk with you since I lost my room?” I asked at Grady.
He rolled his eyes, throwing an arm over my shoulder as he led me upstairs.
~*~*~
My phone alarm went off at a quarter after six. I hurried to shut it off so it wouldn’t wake Grady. Two hours of sleep wasn’t close to being enough. Other than running a brush through my hair and pulling my jeans back on, I didn’t bother sprucing up. I needed coffee before I collapsed.
In the kitchen, Bones, Bridget, and Mrs. A. sat at the table drinking coffee. I retrieved a cup for myself, but before I made it to the table Donovan walked in and stole it from me. I returned to the pot, filling my cup with what was left. Before I had a chance to start another pot, Mrs. A. shooed me to do it herself.
“Fill us in,” Bridget said as I sat across from her. “Do you know who took Laurie?”
“We know who he is, but so far, we don’t have the evidence to have him arrested.”
“What about Mable? Can’t she ID him?” Mrs. A. asked.
“It’s not enough. This guy’s a U.S. Marshal.”
Day and Night Page 10
