by Jamie Hill
Nick nodded and pulled himself together. As they walked out he said, “I love her very much, too.”
Without breaking stride, Doug sighed dramatically. “I know. I’m getting used to the idea.”
Nick smiled.
Chapter Eleven
California State Prison, Corcoran
Level IV Housing, General Population
Corcoran, California
Van was lying on his lumpy bed, staring up at the ceiling when the guard came for him.
“Your lawyer is here to see you.”
He stared at the screw and blinked. “My lawyer? I ain’t got a lawyer no more. They’re supposed to be finding me a new one.”
The tall man with bulging muscles shook his head. “All I know is what I was told. Your lawyer is here. Let’s go.”
Van shrugged. At least it’d get him out of the cell for a while. Maybe it was the new lawyer, wanting to start prepping for the trial. Although other inmates had told him he should ask for a continuance so the new guy had time to get up to speed.
He held his hands out so the guard could snap the cuffs into place, then trudged along beside the man as they went to the visitation area.
Surprised to see Ollie sitting at the table when he arrived, Van sneered, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I needed to talk to you, Van.” He glanced up at the guard nervously, pausing further talk until the man had left them alone. “There are a few things I had to tell you.”
Van studied his fingernails so he wouldn’t have to look at his Judas’ face. “Spill it and get out. I got no time for the likes of you.”
“You’ve changed, Van. This isn’t how it used to be.”
“Yada, yada, yada, cry me a river. We’ve been through this before. Unless you have something new to say—”
“I’ve got news. I sure do. Since Tracy was so uncooperative he’s being charged with the maximums on all counts. Not only possession, but also intent to sell and trafficking, since he’s running the company now. He’s looking at twenty-five years if he’s lucky. And they definitely won’t sentence him to Corcoran. He’ll be going somewhere far, far away.”
Van’s gut churned. “That’s bullshit! Are you representing him? He needs a good lawyer to go to bat for him.”
“No Van, I’m not representing him. After the fiasco you’ve put me through, I’ll be lucky to keep my license. I’ll never practice in California again, that’s for sure. You ruined my career, and my life.”
Van felt bad that his old friend was taking heat, but before he could express himself Bean continued.
“You won’t be keeping much, either. The trucking company has been confiscated along with your house and all your vehicles. That’s right, Van. Wilma and the kids have to leave. They can always go back to their old home, but without Tracy’s income she can’t afford to stay there long. Maybe a year. She’ll have to get a job and buy a smaller house, or rent an apartment. I hope it’s someplace that allows pets. It’d be too bad if Misty had to go to a shelter.”
Fury rumbled in Van’s gut. Bean was goading him. None of it was probably true. “You’re a lying sack of shit, Bean. Why are you wasting your breath with me? Just go.”
“I’m going, Van. There’s just a couple more things I wanted to tell you. The cops are on to Tessa. They raided her house today. She’ll wind up in jail when her part in the kidnapping of the marshal is revealed. So don’t count on her to rescue your stupid dog, either.” He leaned forward. “You do know the kids passed Misty back and forth because she’s such a pain in the ass, don’t you? None of them wanted her. She’ll definitely be the first thing to go.”
Blood pounding in his ears, Van lunged at the lawyer, wrapping his cuffed hands around Bean’s neck. Bean struggled and reached for something on the table.
Van felt a sharp pain in his neck. He glanced down and spotted an ink pen in Bean’s hand. Before he could react, the man stabbed his neck again.
Bean leaned in and whispered, “Neat trick, eh? I saw it on a TV show. Wasn’t sure if it would work, but by God, I think it will!”
Van tried to fight but his arms felt limp. He opened his mouth to tell his scumbag lawyer that the stupid ploy was not going to work, but no words came out. He tasted blood, and felt the tin-tasting liquid oozing from his mouth.
The wounds in his neck made a gurgling sound. He rasped for breath and his vision blurred.
Guards ran in and grabbed Bean, pulling him away.
“It was self-defense!” the lawyer yelled. “He tried to choke me! Did you see him? Play the security tapes. You’ll see him trying to kill me like he said he would.” Bean caught Van’s eye and smiled.
He’s lying! Van blubbered, incoherent, and his body began to shake. Shudders rippled through him as guards positioned him on the floor and applied pressure to his neck. Everyone moved in slow motion. He couldn’t tell if that was him blacking out, or if they truly weren’t moving fast to save him. Either way, he was screwed.
* * *
Los Angeles, California
Nick was quiet on the drive across town. Evan sat in the front of the SUV with Ryan. He and Doug rode in back. The chief and Ryan spoke occasionally, but mainly there was silence. Contemplation. Preparation for whatever was to come, and dealing with what they found.
His heart was sick. He tried to keep the faith, but it was tough. Sleeping with the fishes. He stared out his window and tried to remain stoic.
There was no briefing beforehand, since they’d all geared up in advance. Ryan drove straight to the residence, and arrived with several other cars and the SWAT van. As before, one man hopped out and directed some cops to the front and others around back. Nick, Evan and Doug pulled their guns and crept with the group approaching the front.
“LAPD!” A member of the SWAT team pounded on the door. He repeated it once, and then the battering ram came out. The police knocked the door down and went in yelling. There didn’t seem to be anyone home.
Nick looked around the messy living area, filled with fast food trash. The TV was tuned to an afternoon talk show. “Someone was here recently.”
Ryan held up one finger as he turned the volume off on the TV.
“Down here!” someone called. The voice sounded masculine.
Two members of the SWAT team took the basement and within moments yelled, “Clear! We need a bus.”
Nick inhaled. A ‘bus’ was slang for an ambulance, not the medical examiner. Someone down there was alive. “Who is it?” he had to ask.
“Stay here,” Ryan ordered, and followed the other cops to the basement. Moments later he called up, “Come on down.”
Evan led, followed by Nick and Doug. They rounded the corner and spotted a kid, early twenties maybe, handcuffed to a grate in the wall. His head was bleeding and he was mad as a hornet.
“Crazy bitch!” he kept yelling, over and over.
Ryan stood next to the man. “Who did this to you?”
“She was crazy. Let me loose!”
Nick glanced around. There wasn’t much in the dank room. No immediate clues or evidence.
Ryan continued, “We’ll set you free when you tell us who you’re talking about. What crazy bitch?”
The man looked at him and clammed up. He set his jaw, and looked away.
“That’s okay.” Ryan pulled out his own handcuff keys and released the cuff from the grate. He pulled the man to a standing position and shoved his hands behind his back, snapping the second cuff into place. “We know all we need to know anyway. Gabriel Monte is under arrest for kidnapping and a host of other crimes, potentially including murder. It’s obvious you’re working with him, so your charges will be the same.”
“Murder? What the fuck? I don’t know nothing about no murder!”
Ryan moved his face in closer. “What about kidnapping?”
The man blinked, but didn’t deny it.
“Were you holding someone here?”
“It wasn’t me. Gabe had to go somewhere a
nd he asked me to watch her for a couple of hours. Except he didn’t come back and now it’s been like five hours.”
Evan pulled up a picture of Jordan on his phone and handed it to Ryan.
The detective showed it to the man. “Is this the woman?”
He didn’t look at the phone. “Gabe will kill me if I say anything.”
Nick couldn’t hold back. He stepped forward and stared the man in the eye. “Trust me. Whatever Gabe might do will pale in comparison to what I will do if you don’t look at that picture and answer his question.”
The man hung his head, and then reluctantly glanced at the phone. “Yeah, that’s her. Crazy bitch.” He glanced at Nick quickly, obviously wondering if he should have made the comment.
Nick’s heart soared. She’s alive! He glanced around again. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She told me she needed to pee. I unlocked one of her hands and she swiped my gun and cold-cocked me with it. Twice! Then she took off.”
Nick glared at him. “You’re lucky she didn’t shoot your ass. How long ago was that?”
He shrugged.
Ryan nudged him. “Take a guess.”
“An hour, maybe? I’m not sure how long I was out.”
Paramedics descended the stairs, and the marshals stepped back to make room for them.
“Is that all you know?” Ryan asked. “Keep in mind, anything else you can tell us will improve your chances with the District Attorney.”
He shook his head.
Nick spoke up. “Was she injured?”
Ryan talked as paramedics looked at the wounded man’s head. “What was her condition? Could you tell if she’d been hurt?”
“She looked okay to me. I didn’t see anything.”
The detective nodded to Nick encouragingly. They ascended the stairs and gathered in the kitchen of the small home. “Well, that’s something,” Ryan murmured.
Nick wanted to shout, but he kept his voice at an even keel. “She’s alive! That’s everything.”
Doug glanced around the room. “She got free. She’d look for a phone. I don’t see one in here.”
Evan chimed in, “So, she’d go to a neighbor, perhaps?”
Nick made a face. “Maybe. Not sure she’d trust Gabe’s neighbors, but we need to ask them. My bet is she’d look for a store or a restaurant, some place public, and ask them to call one of us, or nine-one-one.”
As if on cue, they all pulled their phones out to check for missed calls. Ryan phoned the emergency dispatcher while they continued to talk.
Evan said, “The cops need to go door to door checking with neighbors. We could help with that until we get a better lead to go on.”
Ryan ended his call. “Nine-one-one hasn’t received any calls from a woman that could be her. They’re on alert. We’ve got squad cars coming to work a grid, some will drive and other officers will go door to door and see if we can shake any trees.”
Nick nodded and tapped his toe nervously. It was a start.
Before they’d even figured out how they might split up to be of better assistance, an officer radioed Ryan. He reported back to the marshals, “Bingo. Come on.” He hurried out the back door and they followed, hot on his heels.
A next door neighbor stood in his yard, speaking with a uniformed officer. “I noticed the car because it looked like one the cops use. It was an old Crown Vic.”
“What color was it?” the officer asked.
“Grey.”
“What did you notice about the driver?”
“He was a big burly guy, barrel chested, with slick black hair. Might have been a Mexican. The main thing I spotted was a gold front tooth when he smiled.”
“Was he smiling?” Ryan sounded surprised.
“Oh, yeah. He was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. ‘Course, when I saw the woman with him, I could tell why. She was a looker.”
Ryan held out his hand to Evan, who passed over his phone again. He showed the neighbor Jordan’s photo. “This her?”
The middle-aged man nodded. “That’s her. She didn’t look as happy as she does there, but that’s absolutely her.”
“So what did you see?” Ryan encouraged.
“The guy took her by the arm and helped her into his car. Then he drove off, headed north.” He pointed down the street. “That’s it. Like I said, I really only noticed because of the car. Then you all showed up an hour later. I figured something was up.”
“I don’t suppose you got the tag number of the Crown Vic?” Ryan passed the phone back to Evan.
The neighbor smiled. “If I didn’t, that wouldn’t make me a very responsible citizen, now would it?” He handed a scrap of paper to Ryan.
The detective glanced at it with disbelief. “Mister, I’d nominate you for citizen of the year right now.” He folded his fingers around the paper and shook his fist jubilantly. “I’m going to go run this tag.”
Energy flowed through Nick as the investigation finally took an upswing. He stood and listened to the uniformed cop question the neighbor for a while longer, but he didn’t seem to know much more. The guy had scored the tag number! He’d definitely done his part. Nick thanked him profusely when Ryan motioned them to come back.
They gathered around Ryan with several other officers and the SWAT team leader. “We’ve gotten a hit on the Crown Victoria vehicle a neighbor spotted. The owner is Ferdinand Rios, and he matches the description of the guy who picked up the marshal from here today. He showed a picture of Rios on his phone to everyone around him. “Notice the gold-capped tooth in front. This is a big guy, so we need to be prepared for that.”
“Any local address for him?” Evan asked.
“Better. Rios is the managing partner of a trucking firm which has done business with the VanDykes in the past. They have a combination office and warehouse not too far from here.” He cleared his throat. “They, uh, make regular runs from LA to Tijuana, Mexico.” He paused to let that sink in. “I think we should head over there now.”
Nick groaned, exchanging glances with Doug and Evan. They all seemed to come to the same awful realization. Jordan is a beautiful woman. Of course the thugs didn’t kill her. She was more valuable to them alive. They needed to find her now, before she was shipped off in a truck to Mexico. “Lights and sirens?”
Ryan nodded gravely. “You bet.”
* * * *
Los Angeles, California
Jordan had been bound and gagged since the gold-toothed man had captured her at Gabe’s place. He’d copped a couple of feels, but thankfully hadn’t done more than that. But each time he looked at her with that creepy smile, she felt like he might do more at any time. Her mind raced to form a plan, anything to keep her from sinking into despair.
He’d shoved her through a warehouse to a small office where he’d handcuffed her arms behind the back of the chair she was seated in. Her feet were bound with the same white cloth that he’d tied around her mouth to keep her quiet.
Her circumstances had taken a definite turn for the worse.
When he returned with another, younger man, they were speaking rapidly in Spanish. She caught bits and pieces and understood that before much longer she’d be packed into the back of a truck which would take her over the border to Mexico. He explained that it was roughly a three hour trip, and allowing time for the truck to be checked at customs, they’d need her to sleep for at least four hours.
She tried to process the information. Were they going to drug her so she couldn’t call out to the customs inspectors? Her heart raced with fear. If they drugged her, she was a goner. By the time she woke up she’d be in another country, and someone else’s property. Panic threatened to seize her, but she forced herself to remain calm and make one last ditch effort to break free.
The big man stood in the office doorway. “Time to go.”
She shook her head fiercely.
He smiled, and pulled her to a standing position from the chair. “Relax, chica. You’ll be very popular where you
’re going. But the trip might be easier if I give you a little something to take the edge off.” He showed her a syringe.
Jordan shook her head frantically again. “Wait!” she called, her voice muffled.
He spoke directly into her ear. “I’ll remove the gag if you promise not to yell. You yell, I stick you, and you’re out.”
She nodded in agreement.
He tugged the gag so it fell loosely around her neck. “Please,” she panted. “I need to use the bathroom before I go anywhere.”
He chuckled. “Women. They always need to use the bathroom. Okay, chica, one more for the road. But if you have to go on the trip, you’ll be out of luck. You’ll just have to soil yourself.” He dragged her to a small, dirty restroom off the office.
She lifted her arms behind her. “Can you take these off?”
“Nope. You’ll have to manage with them on.”
“At least let me have my hands in front of me.” She looked at him sincerely. “Please.”
“Ah, whatever. You’re not going anywhere. Tony and I will be right here waiting for you.” He unfastened one cuff and brought her hands to the front, then reclasped it. Then he folded his arms and stood, waiting for her.
Jordan entered the bathroom and closed the door slowly, praying he’d allow her privacy. When he did, she said a quick and silent ‘thank you’. She looked around for anything to use as a weapon, but there was nothing besides one roll of toilet paper and a can of air freshener. She might be able to spray that in his eyes, she decided, and glanced in the mirror.
She looked like a wild woman, and for a moment she questioned why anyone would want to kidnap her. The old mirror was cracked on the bottom corner and she picked at it with her fingernail. If she could get a big enough shard she could use that as a weapon, but breaking the mirror further would make noise.
