Exacerbyte (Ellie Conway Book 3)

by Cat Connor

  Lee and I were the first to leave. We skirted around the parked cars until we were further away from the market, then headed to the road that was somewhere in front of us, waiting to be discovered.

  Lee grabbed my arm as I moved ahead of him.

  “I want a bottle of Jack,” he hissed.

  “Straight up?”

  “The whole fuc’n bottle,” Lee growled. “I’m over this shit.”

  I hid my smile and walked next to him. From the market, I heard a faint yell, then a shriek, then a scream followed by a wail.

  So close I could taste it.

  “Come on,” I said to Lee. “Let’s get out of here.”

  We increased our speed as the road appeared in front of us, then dove over the hedge and ran through the racecourse, pulling twigs from our hair and brushing off leaves as we went. Before we hit the main road, I had the car keys in my hand. Lee wasn’t seeing the absurdity of the situation as I was, which heightened my amusement. Maybe the heat was getting to me, or maybe the thought of little girls losing the plot over Lee really was funny.

  Lee and I jumped in the car and locked the doors.

  “Is there anyone in this country who doesn’t think you’re Tony-freaking-Sharron?” I said and slumped in the passenger seat. Giggling became laughter.

  It wasn’t funny. It was ruining our investigation.

  I couldn’t stop.

  “Bite me,” Lee snapped.

  Tears poured. Snot bubbled. Breathing hurt.

  So alluring.

  Lee sat there looking more and more pissed off.

  This voice in my head kept telling me how unprofessional I was. Another voice, a familiar deep, male Virginian voice laughed along with me.

  I was going straight to hell.

  Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.

  Lee was in the driver’s seat, so I dropped the keys in his lap, thinking he may as well drive.

  I sure as hell was incapable.

  He placed a box of Kleenex on my knee.

  I would’ve thanked him if I’d been able to speak.

  Twelve

  Gimme The Prize

  While Lee waited for me to get a grip, we watched foot traffic in the wing mirrors.

  I had an idea but didn’t feel able to look at Lee while I vocalized it. With the laughter subsiding to mere strangulated giggles I knew speaking was still out of the question so I texted my cunning plan to everyone.

  What I needed to do was turn Lee from a liability to an asset.

  The replies came quickly. Lee’s quicker than all the others. He just looked at me with a twisted smile on his face and nodded.

  A car pulled up in front of ours. I recognized the hulking form of Sam in the passenger seat.

  The decision was unanimous. We were using Lee as bait and while the girls fell around him in hysteria, I hoped we’d have the opportunity to take pictures of them and maybe recognize one or two. If we were very lucky, Melanie would be there. She didn’t seem the type to be able to resist a Grange band member.

  Throughout my meltdown, I kept thinking the guy wanted these kids to go willingly. This meant he was going to take them places, buy them things and make promises. He could steer them away from screaming hordes, which in itself would be telling as long as we were watching. Or he could allow them to take part … gaining trust. Making the kids think they were free to do whatever they want.

  I opened the car door as Sean and Sam came over. “We need to set this up for a fairly open area,” I said.

  Sean nodded. “There’s a grassy area with a bouncy castle on it. That’ll work. We can watch everyone approaching Lee there.

  “We need to get him there without causing a frenzy,” Sam added. “We don’t want to set the crowd off before we’re ready to snap some pics or grab a kid.”

  Agreed.

  Sean appeared thoughtful and then hurried back to his car for a few minutes. When he reappeared, he smiled and said, “We’ll drive him in with a police escort.”

  “We will?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Sean said. “I’ll drive Lee and Kurt; the police car will be in front of me, with you and Sam behind us. We’ll do a motorcade deal and cruise up that side road to the back few rows of market stalls. Once there the police will draw a small amount of attention, then back off. It’s only a hundred feet or so to the grassed area from that point.”

  My brief followed, “So we’re going to pose as Lee’s security team and station ourselves close enough to get a good look at the kids. Remember people, the ones that don’t come over are as important. The more pictures the better.”

  I had a camera around my neck. But the other two needed cameras too. Sam leaned into the car through Lee’s window and released the trunk. He hunted round in his backpack for a few seconds then came back to the window with three digital cameras.

  He grinned at Lee. “The more kids you can pose with the better the pictures. Give us a whistle and I’ll come on over and take the shots. Make it look like a publicity thing.”

  Doc put his shirt and jacket back on. “Would look better if I took the photographs.”

  “You’re right, “Sam conceded. “You look like his manager or agent, I look like his bodyguard.”

  Lee nodded.

  My turn again. “Now let’s get you looking more like Tony.”

  I took off his cap and replaced it backwards. Removed his cheap sunglasses and gave him back his aviators.

  “That’ll have to do,” I said. I was beginning to see what caused hysterics wherever we went.

  “Have you got radio mikes?” Sean asked.

  Not that I expected we’d need them at that point but I did have radio mikes in my backpack in the back of the car. I reached over and hauled the bag onto my knee.

  Inside a small sturdy box lined with molded foam, I counted ten. I removed five earpiece receivers and five tiny microphones. I handed out the equipment. We pinned the small microphones to our shirts, between the shoulder and the neck front. They looked like sports club pins, nothing out of the ordinary. The small earpieces were almost invisible inside the ear canal.

  “This is one peculiar honey trap,” Sam muttered as a police cruiser pulled up and one of the officers yelled out to Sean. Sean indicated for me to go with him.

  “Jay Cosgrove,” he said, introducing me to the officers in the car, and pointed to the driver, who winked at me with a cheesy grin. “… and Turner Quarrie. This is SSA Ellie Conway, FBI Delta team.”

  “Welcome to New Zealand,” Turner said.

  “Thanks. Be nice to come back and have a vacation. I’ve vacationed Marlborough Sounds but not for quite a few years. Christchurch is quite different from Marlborough.”

  “Our sergeant said there’s a task force being pulled together,” Jay said. “We’d like to volunteer.”

  Sean nodded. “One second,” he said. His hand rested lightly on my arm and he motioned for us to step away for a conversation.

  “Are they good?” I asked.

  “I’ve worked with both of them a few times. They’re dedicated,” he replied.

  “Thought no one wanted to work with us?”

  “Maybe they’re not the brightest crayons in the box.” He grinned at me.

  “Great.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  I smiled at him. “Give them the nod then.” Sam’s voice was in my ear, “Poor bastards don’t know what they’re volunteering for, SSA.”

  Sean replied, “Never volunteer. They’ll learn.”

  We stepped back to the car. “Thanks for your offer of help. We’d be pleased to have you work with us on this.” I smiled and shook both their hands. “After this I’ll set up a meeting and bring you up to speed on the case. I’ll need to see your firearms proficiency tests.”

  “We’re good to go,” Sean said. “Lee, Kurt – jump in my car, let’s get this circus moving. Over.”

  “Message understood,” they replied.

  We now knew the radio si
gnal was loud and clear.

  Sam and Lee switched places. Our escort employed rolling lights and led the way.

  As the cars bumped along the road, I couldn’t quite believe what we were doing. We set the trap. The police car’s lights caught the attention of several young girls. I could see them starting to follow us.

  I felt sorry for Lee. It was an odd sensation and not something I normally experienced.

  So much for cold-hearted bitch. Failed again.

  Lee and Doc sauntered into the grassy picnic area trying to look nonchalant. He wasn’t having the best day so far and judging by the noise I could hear building around us, it was only going to get worse.

  “Have fun with it. The more you play the rocker the better this will go,” I whispered.

  “Copy that. I’ll try. How long do you want to keep up this charade? Over.”

  “As you long as you can stand it. The minute you start reaching for your weapon, I’ll call it off. Over.”

  Sean’s voice broke in, “Good to know SSA. Over.”

  It was hot. I was uncomfortable and still wearing two tee shirts. On one side of the area were several hotdog stands, all offering cold drinks. They looked inviting. A cold drink would be heaven.

  “Heads up people, we have screamers at three o’clock. Over,” Sam said.

  Time to take some pictures. I lifted my camera, switched it on and started clicking. Lee smiled, waved and repeatedly executed brilliant rock star poses. I listened to the comments from Doc as he snapped pictures. Sam and I watched for stragglers.

  A man escorted a young girl around the edge of the grass. He was attempting to steer her toward the car park area; she was watching Lee with open adoration.

  “Sam, on your five, guy in dark-blue jeans and a brown blazer with a military hair cut. Get a look at the kid with him. I don’t think its Melanie but she seems out of place. And he’s definitely worth another look. Over.”

  Who wears a blazer in this heat unless they’re hiding something?

  “Copy. On it. Over.”

  Sam moved off. Sean was snapping photographs. Turning in full circles to get as many kids and bystanders as possible.

  “SSA, could be one of the missing kids. Over,” Sam said. That’s all I needed to hear.

  “Copy that. Pull her and have him cuffed,” I replied. “Sean, are our police friends still close? Over.”

  “Affirmative. Over.”

  “Copy. Let’s get them involved in this. Over,” I said.

  Doc was still snapping pictures of girls posing with Lee.

  Sean disappeared behind the crowd. I could hear him and Sam talking to the male and questioning the girl before Jay and Turner arrived on the scene to give them both a free ride in a police car. Neither had been able to produce identification.

  My mouth was dry.

  I carried on snapping pictures of the surrounding crowd for another five minutes before Lee tapped out and I heard his voice in my ear.

  “Get me out of here. Over,” he said, while still smiling at the screaming horde.

  Sam’s voice came back clearly, “Copy that. Coming for you now. Walk toward the road. Over.”

  Lee and I linked arms; Doc took his other arm. It was mainly so we were inseparable as we forged our way through the seething mass of sweaty screamy teenagers. The smell of teen spirit burned the back of my nose. Twice I checked my gun as we waded through the bodies to Sam.

  Once Sam met us, we moved faster toward the cars. Sean was waiting with the engine running. The police car sat with lights rolling, lead car again. I could see the man and girl in the back. Not ideal. I would have preferred the girl to be in a different car from the get go.

  Lee and Doc scrambled into Sean’s car, Sam and I ran to the other car. We all met down the road from the market and switched the kid over to Sean’s car with Lee and Doc.

  “Sean, I need an interview room, with digital taping facilities. What have you got?”

  “Use your hotel. It has several excellent conference rooms with all the gear you could possibly need.”

  “Awesome. Thanks.”

  A quick call through to the hotel had a room made available, with two security guards posted outside it.

  Sean let the police know we’d be using the hotel as our cars pulled out in convoy. I started scrolling through the photos on my camera. So many red, tear-streaked screaming faces. It was going to be a long tiresome task.

  My body cried out for a drink of water but thoughts of bourbon squeezed their way into my mind, the ice clinking against the edges of my skull. “Good job Lee. I’ll get you that bottle of Jack A-sap. Over.” I enjoyed being able to talk to everyone without picking up the phone. As long as the cars weren’t too far apart, we were all in constant communication.

  “Copy. You going to help me drink it? Over.” It was nearing three in the afternoon. We had an interview to conduct, photographs to wade through, plus two new team members to brief.

  “Depends how long it takes to get through this …” I replied. “Over.”

  Silence fell like a thick blanket as we negotiated streets laden with midweek traffic. There was a small opportunity to enjoy the scenery. Sam concentrated on the driving. Being on the wrong side of the road took some getting used to. At one point, he narrowly avoided a cyclist only to find another bunch right ahead of us. They drew my attention to a church that seemed to be on the pointy end of a corner. Grave markers flanked the old stone building. I said, “Hey Sean, there’s this cool stone church …”

  He interrupted me and said, “Church Corner. You’re in Upper Riccarton. And yes, it’s worth taking a stroll around the graveyard if you get a chance. Over.”

  “Wicked!”

  The church on the corner thing tickled me pink. I’d come to realize this country said it like it is – Cathedral Square, Church Corner, Bridge 1 and Bridge 2, River Road. The examples were endless. Sam cussed under his breath at every cyclist we came across. I saw some more interesting old buildings I decided I’d like to explore, given half a chance. I didn’t expect to find old stone buildings in Christchurch. I don’t know what I expected but obviously, it wasn’t pretty gardens, large parks and old buildings. Before long, we were back at the hotel.

  I spoke to Sean and Lee and Doc before leaving the car. “Give me a few minutes to set the room up and then bring in the kid first. Use the entrance from the underground car park. I don’t want too many people seeing uniformed police and a suspect. Over.”

  At the hotel, I asked the fabulously efficient concierge if we could use our key cards in the boardroom lock. Computers are a wonderful thing. Within minutes, the only access to the boardroom was via our key cards and a spare for Sean.

  Sam got busy in the boardroom setting up the chairs the way we wanted them.

  Thirteen

  She’s A Mystery

  Leaving Sam in the boardroom, I hurried up to my room. Something niggled at me. A new part of the poem I’d begun earlier.

  Rain pounding

  Mud squelching

  One by one they leave

  Surrounded by flowers

  Alone in the earth

  The moments before, did they count?

  What was special about the day?

  Did you measure up in a universal way?

  Would I measure up when the bell tolled for me? The jury was still out.

  While I was in the room, I gathered laptops and other equipment we had scattered across the small table. I piled the files on top of the four laptops, wound up power cords and added them to the pile. I scouted around for anything else we might need. Paper and pens. I slid a bunch of legal notebooks under the power cords and shoved a handful of pens into my pocket.

  Done.

  I scooped up everything and managed to get out the door. I hooked the door with my foot but couldn’t quite shut it. There was no way I could release a hand from the precariously stacked pile.

  Shit!

  A voice from down the hall said, “Wanna hand?”r />
  Rowan was opening a door about five doors down.

  “Will you shut this door for me, please?” I asked.

  He grinned and came over. “Sure.”

  Sam’s voice in my ear said, “I’m on my way.”

  “Not necessary,” I replied. “Taken care of.”

  Rowan frowned. “But I just—”

  “Sorry, the voices in my head needed an answer.” I turned my head to the right and tilted it slightly. “Look in my ear.”

  He shook his head but looked anyway. “That’s got to be one of the strangest requests I’ve had today.”

  “You obviously need to get out more,” I replied.

  “Is that a wireless receiver in your ear?”

  “Yep.”

  The voice in my ear spoke again, “Who are you talking too?”

  “Rowan Grange,” I replied in a semi-whisper.

  Rowan looked at me with an enquiring look on his face. I smiled and shook my head.

  He scrutinized the part of my shirt that he could see.

  “And the microphone … the pin you’re wearing?”

  “Yep.”

  “Cool. Give me that pile, I’ll carry it.”

  “I’m fine,” I replied. “There is no need to go out of your way.”

  “Let me help.”

  I started to walk to the elevator. Rowan walked with me.

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “Up or down?” he asked, his hand hovering over the arrows.

  “Down, thank you,” I replied.

  The elevator pinged a few seconds later and the doors opened. Rowan ushered me in, stepped in himself and with one hand stopping the door from shutting, asked which floor.

  “One, please.”

  He pressed the button then jumped out of the elevator. As the doors started to close he said, “At eight o’clock I’ll be knocking at your door.”

  “Thought you said Wednesday night?”

  Just as the door shut properly he said, “It is Wednesday.”

  Upon exiting the elevator, the gears in my mind shifted to work mode.

  Outside the boardroom I said, “Sam, can you get the door?”

  The door opened. He took the pile from my arms and spread everything on the large table in the middle of the room.