Capture: A Crime Thriller (CJ Sheridan Thrillers Book 2)

by M. P. McDonald

  Sheridan nodded. “Yes. We'll follow. Our car is out front.”

  “So is my squad.”

  Detective Harris opted to follow in his own vehicle as well. Wayan swallowed hard when he wondered what Hamilton would do when he saw the entourage. Wayan was pretty sure he could kiss his next chance of advancement away. Hamilton was from his district and he had a lot of sway with the lieutenant. He's probably be busted down to traffic enforcement.

  Twenty minutes later, Wayan turned into the parking lot of the garage facility. The building he'd been in this morning looked abandoned. There had been a few cars out in front earlier, but now those were gone. Just his luck, the place would be empty and they would doubt what he saw. He parked and exited his vehicle. When the others had done the same, he pointed to the building. “There it is.”

  Sheridan nodded. “Doesn't look like much.”

  “No, sir, it doesn't. I just thought it was an office for the garage.” This morning, a few other squad cars had been around, but now, the garage looked closed. It was only a little after three. Did they all leave for the day already?

  Harris was last to join them. “So, what's the plan?”

  Sheridan's face hardened. “I'm going in to find my son.” He turned as if to march into the building.

  “Why don't we take a look around, first?” Bishop put a restraining hand on Sheridan's arm.

  Wayan sucked in a breath, expecting Sheridan to reprimand his subordinate, but Sheridan stopped and looked at Bishop, his face searching hers. After a moment, he broke eye contact and scanned the lot. Finally, he drew in a deep breath. “You're right, Jessica. I can't go charging in there not knowing what to expect.”

  “Jim, don't worry. Remember, Officer Cooper said CJ looked okay. If he's in there, we'll get him out.”

  It hadn't been his intention to participate in whatever the three were going to do, but Wayan had an idea. “Um, sir?” Wayan jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the building. “I could go in and see what's up. I've been there. Hamilton knows me.”

  Detective Harris nodded. “That sounds like a plan. I could go in too. This could be the place Mendez was held. One reason the police brutality accusation was dropped was because Mendez didn't know where he was held. Or who was holding him, except some guy, maybe a cop, maybe not, named Tom.”

  Jim's mouth set in a tight line, the muscles of his jaw twitching, but he nodded. Jessica turned to Harris. “Just let us know what's going on as soon as possible. I'm not sure how long I can hold him back.”

  “Will do. Come on, Cooper.” Harris strode to the door, Wayan jogging to catch up with the big man's long strides.

  What if the door was locked? If it was, Wayan would look like a fool. Nobody would believe he'd seen what he'd seen. As he approached, he turned the doorknob, breathing a sigh of relief when it opened. He guessed the place didn't get many visitors, and having cop cars in and out, heading to the garage next door at random times kept the criminal element away.

  Harris followed Wayan, which he found both reassuring and nerve-wracking. “Here we are. I came out of the bathroom over there.” Wayan pointed to the marked doors. As before, nobody was around, although he could hear voices. Nobody was shouting, but the voices weren't hushed either.

  “Where the hell is everyone? Are you sure this is it? Looks like an empty dentist's office, not a jail.” The room was empty, but a few chairs sat along the front wall. A desk, unoccupied, but holding a computer, was right of the doorway. The bathroom across from it. The doorway into the hall was across from the front door. CJ's door had been on the right.

  “Right?” Wayan put a finger to his lips and whispered, “Hear that?” He pointed to the door down the hall. “That's the room where I saw CJ Sheridan. And another guy. Hamilton came from somewhere behind me.”

  Harris took a few steps into the hall on the left and Wayan noted his hand wasn't far from his shoulder holster. Wayan stepped into the hall, but didn't move in either direction, but instead covered Harris so they wouldn't be surprised from behind while Harris checked out the left side. Hamilton had to come from somewhere when he sneaked up from behind Wayan this morning. He hadn't been in the lobby area, so he had to have been somewhere else in the building.

  Harris twisted a doorknob, his actions slow and deliberate. The door opened, and he stuck his head inside, pulled back and gave Wayan a quick shake of his head. He did the same with a second door. A third one was locked, but the fourth opened, and Harris entered.

  Wayan shifted in the hallway. Should he go see what Harris found? Or stay here. The voices were coming from his right. He was sure they came from the same room where he'd found CJ. He felt antsy, wanting to go there first, but he had to watch Harris' back. How long had they been in here? He glanced at his watch, but it did no good because he hadn't checked before entering. A guess was just two to three minutes. Agent Sheridan was going to be storming in here soon if they didn't let them know what was going on soon.

  To Wayan's relief, Harris returned to the hallway, a manila folder in his hand, but he didn't say anything until he was close to Wayan. He kept his voice low. “Not sure what's going on here, but there's a computer in there that is linked to the police department database. There's also one that looks like a personal computer.” He lifted the folder, thumbing it open. “There are also several files on the desk. One is for CJ.”

  Wayan leaned over to look at it, but spun around as the voices rose in the room to his right. “That's where CJ was this morning. That's the room we need to investigate.”

  Harris nodded and bent the folder in half, and shoved it into the back of his waistband. He jerked his head towards the door, and Wayan took up a position to cover him from the side of the door. Harris reached for the knob, but the door suddenly opened.

  “Freeze!” Harris had his weapon out and leveled at someone. “Drop the gun!” Something clattered to the floor.

  Wayan held his gun with both hands, his stance alert as he stepped beside Harris.

  CJ Sheridan stood, his arms out, a look of surprise and defeat on his face. A stun gun at his feet.

  Chapter Fifteen

  CJ dropped the gun, his hopes of escape plummeting faster than the falling weapon. He had been so close. He had been sure Hamilton was alone in the building, and now he stared down the barrel of a real gun held by a real cop, judging from the badge clipped to the big man's belt. Did that mean Hamilton's interrogation methods were legit?

  Wayan Cooper appeared just to the left of the other cop. He was in on it too? But his surprise earlier had seemed so genuine. Already light-headed, CJ swayed.

  Behind him, Hamilton let out a roar of laughter, and CJ could only stand, his arms in the air, unable to even throw a glare at him.

  The big cop looked CJ up and down, his eyes narrowed. “CJ Sheridan?”

  Wayan confirmed the cop's question even as CJ nodded.

  He lowered his weapon, but didn't holster it, darting a look over CJ's shoulder, seeming to scan the room before returning to CJ. “Are you okay?”

  The cop's question caught CJ by surprise. “Uh…yeah.”

  “Okay, step aside.” His head jerked to the side, punctuating his order.

  CJ hesitated. Was this some new kind of game? He looked at Cooper, as he attempted to read the situation.

  Cooper nodded. “It's all good, man.”

  Turning sideways, CJ pressed his back to the open door as the big cop barged in, his gun once again raised, and this time leveled at Hamilton. CJ's mouth dropped open. Cooper pointed his at Tom.

  “Put your damn weapons down. I'm Detective Hamilton. I have it all under control here.”

  “Shut up, Hamilton. Put your hands on your head.” His head turned a fraction, apparently looking at Tom. “You too!”

  Tom put one hand behind his head, the other, still shackled to the wall, was unable to reach, but he held it out. His eyes were round with fear. Hamilton's were tiny, angry slits boring into CJ.

  CJ heard commotion from
beyond the hallway, and hard, fast footsteps, then heard his father's voice. It was hard and sharp. “Harris!”

  The big guy, apparently Harris, called over his shoulder. “In here!”

  “What the hell is going—” At the sight of CJ, his dad stopped short. A myriad of expressions flitted across his face, surprise, relief, and finally, joy.

  CJ had never been so glad to see anyone in his life. “Dad…” He took a couple of steps, but the room began to spin and he stopped. His dad reached out, steadying him.

  Jessie was right behind his father, and she gave CJ a quick nod, her eyes scanning him from head to toe. She shouldered past Jim. “Get him out of here, Jim.”

  His dad said something, but a loud roar in CJ's ear prevented him from hearing what he said. He felt his dad's arm circle his waist, and urge him forward. He gave a shake of his head and blinked the encroaching darkness away. He'd made it this long. He wasn't going to pass out now. Shuffling along, he followed his dad, his pace quickening when he saw the front door. He wanted out and he wanted it now.

  On the outside, he stopped and blinked in the bright sunlight. He looked around. “What day is it?” His dad steered him over to his car and pressed him back until he was sitting on the rear bumper.

  “You've been gone for two days.” With a few fingers on CJ's chin, his dad had CJ look up, and examined his face. “What did they do to you? Looks like you lost a battle with Joe Frazier.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind.”

  CJ winced when his dad's gentle probing hit a tender spot behind his ear. “Ow!” He swiped at his dad's hand, leaning away. “I'm fine. Just hungry and thirsty.”

  “Sorry. I just want to make sure you're okay.”

  “I know. I was just about to leave on my own when you and…who is that anyway?”

  “Detective Dan Harris. He and Jessica used to be partners when she was on the Chicago P.D.”

  “Oh.” CJ glanced at the door. He wanted to go back in and see what was going on, but his legs shook. He pressed his hands against his thighs to keep the tremors under control. He didn't know if it was from relief or just low blood sugar, but he couldn't stop shaking and didn't want his dad to see.

  “Stay right here. I'm going to go back.”

  CJ stood to follow, but his dad must have heard him and turned, pointing at the fender, his expression stern. Feeling almost chastised, CJ sank back onto the bumper and leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands.

  A car pulled into the lot, the tires squealing on the pavement. CJ started, his heart battering against his ribs until he recognized Mark's Jeep. It pulled up beside his dad's car. Blanche jumped out of the passenger side.

  “CJ! Are you okay? What happened? Have you been here the whole time?” She put a hand on the side of CJ's face and he closed his eyes for a moment, turning his face into her hand, nuzzling it. Nothing had ever felt as good as her cool palm against his cheek. She made a sound that might have been a sob, but when he opened his eyes, she was smiling, although her eyes were swimming. She brought her other hand up and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.

  Mark rounded the back of his Jeep, his gaze sweeping CJ, pausing on the bruises. His mouth set in a firm line. “Those bastards, but at least you're in one piece, and you have your own private nurse” The last comment was accompanied by a brief smile, then he blew out a breath and looked around the area. “Where's Jessie?”

  CJ pointed. “In there with my dad and a couple of other people. Some detective named Dan Harris? And a cop. Wayan Cooper.” Blanche started asking questions, assessing his condition, but CJ held up a finger. “Hold on a second. How did y'all know to come here?”

  Blanche shot a look at Mark, who shrugged. “The usual way.”

  “A vision?”

  Mark nodded.

  CJ couldn't hold it back. “Where was your vision a couple of days ago?”

  “I've been working on it.” He smiled. “It's like you've thrown up a mental block on me. Everything I got was fuzzy.”

  “Probably more like my brain shorted out when they zapped me.” He meant it as a joke, but Mark's expression turned dark.

  “They did what?”

  “A stun gun. Just a couple of times, but man, that thing had a kick to it.” He rubbed his chest, wincing when he felt the wounds from the pins that had embedded in him.

  Blanche gasped, and reached for his shirt, tugging it away from his chest and peering inside. “I can't see this way. Take it off.” She reached down and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt.

  “Whoa. It happened hours ago. Maybe yesterday. Other than soreness, I'm fine.”

  “Those things have been known to kill people.”

  “Well, it didn't kill me.” Did they all think he was fragile or something? “I'm going to see what's taking them.” What would they do with Hamilton? Arrest him? CJ didn't want to miss the look on the man's face when that happened. He stood, taking a moment to get his balance. Blanche walked beside him, her quick glances his way made him self-conscious. He wasn't about to keel over.

  Mark took the other side, but his gaze focused straight forward. He looked angry as he stalked ahead of them, reaching the door to the building just as it opened.

  Jim, Jessie, Dan Harris and Wayan Cooper exited. His father strode to them, his expression stony. Jessie was speaking to Dan, and Wayan brought up the rear, casting a glance over his shoulder.

  “What's going on?”

  * * *

  Mark's fists balled at his side. CJ had a right to ask what had taken so long for Mark to find him. Jim apparently found CJ without any help from him. What good was a vision if it only showed something that had already happened? Was that even a vision? Why had Mark's vision taken so long to come to him? And why now, when CJ was okay?

  The door to the building opened when Mark was still a few steps away. Jim, Jessie, Dan, and some young guy Mark didn't know, exited. He stopped, trying to read their expressions. Jessie said something to Dan, and Jim brushed by Mark, barely acknowledging him. The young guy looked confused. Bewildered. Just like Mark felt.

  He caught Jessie's eye. “What's going on?”

  She shook her head. “Son of a bitch is going to get away with it.”

  “He said he had probable cause and he hadn't hit the time limit for holding a suspect before charging him or releasing him.”

  Mark turned to follow them back to the cars. CJ looked lost. He stopped, his eyes tracking his dad, but then turning to look at the building.

  His face reddened. Before Mark or Blanche could stop him, CJ lunged past Mark, and flung open the door.

  “CJ!” Mark spun and chased after him.

  Blanche yelled something to Jim, but Mark wasn't listening. He caught the door before it closed, but CJ was ahead of him.

  Mark lunged, trying to catch CJ's shoulder, but caught only a handful of t-shirt. The fabric ripped, and CJ only paused to look around. “Hamilton!”

  An older man, his gray hair receding, appeared in a doorway across the lobby.

  CJ didn't speak. He just charged full force at the man. He hit the man propelling him into the wall behind the man. CJ's hands clenched around the man's throat. “You fucking bastard! I won't let you get away with this!”

  Grabbing around CJ's waist, Mark tried to pull him away, but CJ, crazed with anger, twisted hard, his elbow catching Mark in the ribs. Grunting, he quit pulling, and instead, pushed, hoping to force CJ to drop his hands from the man's throat in order to avoid being crushed between Mark and the other guy. It might have worked, but another person entered the fray. A stout, bulldog of a man. He wielded a gun, pointing it at CJ's head.

  Mark released CJ and dove at the man. A pop and flash, and then blinding pain. Mark hit the floor hard, writhing and twitching uncontrollably. CJ was shouting, and other voices added to the mix, but Mark couldn't focus on them. He couldn't catch his breath and the voices receded.

  * * *

  “Mark!” CJ released Hamilton and dropped to his k
nees beside Mark. What happened? Mark had crashed into Tom, knocking the man backward, but CJ spotted the stun gun in Tom's hand. A wire stretched the three feet between his hand and Mark.

  Mark twitched and groaned, but his eyes were shut and CJ didn't know if he was conscious. The probe was embedded in the side of his neck and CJ reached to pull it out, but hesitated, fearful of causing more harm. “What did you do?” CJ glared at Tom. “You might have killed him!”

  Tom struggled to his feet. “I was aiming for you. It's your fault. You were choking Hamilton.” He waved the gun towards Hamilton, who had turned away, bent at the waist as he coughed and gagged.

  The door opened, and CJ's dad, Jessie, and Blanche entered. Tom's words hit home and CJ sank back and twined his fingers behind his head. “No…no…no. I didn't mean for anything—”

  “Drop it!” His father held his weapon out, pointing at Tom. “Jessica, cuff him.”

  “Wait! I didn't mean to shoot this guy. I was aiming for your son. If he hadn't been strangling Hamilton, I wouldn't have had to use the stun gun.”

  Hamilton straightened, fingering his throat and rasping out, “It's true. I’m putting your son under arrest for attempted murder.”

  His dad's eyes shot to CJ. “Get up. Blanche, take a look at Mark.” CJ recognized his father's tone. He was taking charge and there was no arguing with him. CJ stood, his prior anger dissolving away as guilt encroached. His actions had caused Mark harm. He backed away, leaning against the wall as he kept his eyes glued to Mark. He knew exactly how strong the stun gun was, and Mark had received the shock in his neck. Would that make a difference? The probe was definitely deeper than what CJ had experienced. What if it hit something vital? Blanche had taken CJ's place beside Mark, her fingers pressed against his neck. Next, she laid a hand against his abdomen, then glanced at CJ. “He has a strong pulse and his breathing is normal. I think he'll be okay. He didn't hit his head, did he?” She started running her fingers gently along the base of Mark's neck around to the back.