Option to Kill nm-3

by Andrew Peterson

  Nathan stowed that for now, he wanted to stay on the current string. “You said you saw the dead girl last night. Doesn’t it strike you as odd that they waited nearly an entire day to ask you about it, and that US Marshals asked, not the police?”

  “I guess.”

  “Trust me, it’s not normal. The police, not US Marshals, should’ve talked to you last night. Unless no one reported it.”

  “You mean my mom never called the police?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I, but I’m sure she had her reasons. What else did she say when you called?”

  “She was really freaked and told me to wait in my stepdad’s office.”

  “Do you know where she was when you called?”

  She thought for a second. “In her car. It automatically connects with her Bluetooth. I can tell.”

  “Was she alone?”

  “I didn’t hear anyone else.”

  “Let’s back up a little. How did you get to the warehouse that day?”

  “My stepdad dropped me off.”

  “Is that what usually happens? He drops you off and leaves?”

  “Sometimes he stays and works in his office.”

  “Why were you at the warehouse?”

  “Sometimes I hang out there. Nobody bugs me.”

  “Let’s keep walking.” They hurried past a gazebo-type building toward a small water feature, maybe a reflection pond. Another building, probably a restaurant, lay directly ahead. He led Lauren in that direction.

  “What about school? Aren’t you supposed to be in school during the day?”

  “I don’t go to regular school anymore.”

  Nathan waited. He wasn’t sure she was going to say anything.

  “I kept getting in trouble,” she said. “Everyone hates me.”

  “Everyone doesn’t hate you.”

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to say that.”

  “I’m serious. I don’t hate you.”

  “You haven’t known me very long.”

  “Maybe you want everyone to hate you.” That hit a little too close to home. He wished he hadn’t said it.

  “Whatever.”

  “Did anyone see you when you found the dead girl?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  “Lauren, look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

  “It’s not okay. I was out of line. It’s just that you seem like such a nice girl, I can’t imagine anyone hating you.”

  “You’re just like me. You want people to hate you, too.”

  Ouch. This girl had just carved into his soul with a fillet knife. He tried to think of a way to change the subject. But he’d brought it up, not her. It seemed unfair not to come clean.

  “Okay, Lauren…the truth. You’re right — I don’t want friends. Having friends means you have to trust them.”

  “And you don’t trust people.”

  “Generally, no.”

  “Me either.”

  They followed a landscaped walkway lined with white benches and rosebush hedges. Up ahead, he was pretty sure a linear-shaped parking lot would take them to the main driveway of the hotel. They’d head that way and, with some luck, find a cab. Somewhere behind them, a siren wailed. It served as a reminder that the police were still pursuing them. They weren’t out of this yet.

  “When you think about it, we have no reason to trust each other. But look at all we’ve been through together. Is there any doubt I could’ve ditched you if I’d wanted to?”

  “So why didn’t you?”

  “You asked for my help.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  He stopped walking and faced her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She crossed her arms and stared him in the eyes.

  What was she implying? Was she suggesting he had impure intentions? He supposed she was old enough to know about such things, and she said the driver of the SUV had looked at her in a bad way. “Lauren, I would never do anything to hurt you. It’s important you understand that.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes, absolutely. Marine’s honor. Cut me some slack here. You’re only twelve years old, almost thirteen. Are there bad people in the world? Yes. Are there creeps who might try to take advantage of you? Sadly, yes. I’m just not one of them.” He smiled. “Besides, I have a girlfriend. She’s an FBI agent.”

  “No way. Seriously?”

  “Yep. She’s in charge of the Sacramento field office.”

  “Is she pretty?”

  “Yes. But that’s not the point. The point is, we’re in this together. I’m not going to ditch you or try to take advantage of you.”

  “So we need to trust each other, like real friends would.”

  “That’s right.”

  “So are we?”

  “Yes.” They started walking again.

  “Do you really take bubble baths?”

  “Yes, without a rubber duck.”

  She smiled, and it suddenly occurred to him that he no longer thought of her as a liability. What had he thought of her as? Eighty pounds of pure trouble? He supposed that was still true, but she felt more real now, more human. Lauren was also plenty smart, bordering on brilliant. Except for the slipup with the guard inside Nordstrom, she’d been remarkably poised tonight. Though he hadn’t been around kids much, something told him Lauren was exceptional. Of course, most parents thought their kids were special, but Lauren wasn’t his kid. They barely knew each other. Granted, they’d shared some harrowing moments tonight, but there was something else beyond that, something he found hard to label. He felt comfortable with her, similar to when he’d first met Holly. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew Lauren felt it, too.

  As they walked, Nathan tried to turn their conversation back to the chain of events that had led to her seeing the dead girl and what happened after that.

  “Let’s get back to the warehouse. Walk me through it. How did you see her? What were you doing?”

  “I was Rollerblading and a forklift almost hit me.”

  “Rollerblading?”

  “The aisles are really long and straight. It’s perfect, except I ran over some cardboard and fell. I saw something through the slots under the pallets. You know, where the forklift blades go?”

  “I know how they work. What did you see?”

  “I went around to the other side, but I couldn’t see well enough, so I crawled on my hands and knees, looking under the pallets, until I found the right spot.”

  “So, there was a secret hollow place inside all the stacked pallets?”

  “Yeah, but the pallets were stacked really high, so I couldn’t climb up to look.”

  “Then how did you see her? You know, her cut-up stomach?”

  “I hid under the desk in my stepdad’s office until everyone left and then moved the pallets.”

  “Lauren, I may not be the brightest bulb in the closet, but you can’t move pallets of patio furniture.”

  “I used a forklift.”

  “You can operate a forklift?”

  “It’s easy. My stepdad taught me. He taught me to drive, too.”

  “Drive? You mean cars?”

  “It’s no big deal. Kids fly airplanes at my age.”

  He conceded the point. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises. Why couldn’t you just look between the pallets? Aren’t pallets usually stacked with gaps between them?”

  “That’s what was kinda weird. Someone taped sheets of cardboard around the inside.”

  “So the cardboard prevented you from seeing through the gaps?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So you moved the pallets out of the way, and that’s when you found the dead girl hidden in there?”

  She nodded. “It was horrible.”

  “What did you do next?”

  “I ran into my stepdad
’s office and called my mom.”

  “You didn’t have a cell phone? I thought all kids your age had cell phones.”

  “I didn’t have it with me yesterday. My stepdad took it away as punishment.”

  “But you had it earlier to send me the texts.”

  “I know where he hides it in the house. My mom showed me.”

  There seemed to be some big holes in her story. For every question she answered, five more sprang up. Should he press harder for more info? At the moment, she didn’t seem too upset talking about it, but that could change.

  “All of this happened after-hours, right? How did you get home?”

  Her face clouded again.

  He took her hand and pulled her aside again. She looked as if she was about to lose control. “You drove yourself home.”

  “I took one of the vans. My stepdad keeps the keys in his office.”

  “You never called the police?”

  “No.”

  “Who told you your stepdad had been murdered?”

  “The man in the black car.”

  “When did he tell you?”

  “He called me this morning. He said to stay in the house and not talk to anyone. He said he’d pick me up later. I was really scared.”

  “I can imagine. When was the last time your mom contacted you?”

  “Right before I sent you the texts.”

  “How did she contact you?”

  “A text. She sent our code word.”

  “What code word?”

  “We’ve had this code word ever since I was really young. She made me memorize a phone number. If she ever sent me the code word, I was supposed to text the secret words to the phone number right away.”

  “The ‘echo five sierra charlie’ words?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What was the code word?”

  “Werty.”

  “W-e-r-t-y? Spelled like that?”

  She nodded.

  Nathan pulled out his phone and opened a text window. The letters were in a straight row along the top of the keyboard. It made sense — they’d be easy and fast to enter.

  “Do you know what ‘echo five sierra charlie’ means?”

  “No.”

  “So your mom never mentioned me by name, ever? You had no idea who you were texting?”

  “She just said someone would come and help me.”

  “Looks like that someone is me. Now, about that warehouse…You said you were in there after-hours. Isn’t there a security system?”

  “I know the security code.”

  “So you disarmed the system and left the warehouse in a company van. Did you rearm it?”

  “No. I guess I should’ve.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I want to see it.”

  “The warehouse?”

  “Are you okay going back in there?”

  “I guess…We’ll be together, right?”

  “Yes, but I need to get some things from my house first. Are you hungry? When was the last time you ate anything?”

  “This morning. I had a bowl of cereal.”

  “We’ll grab a bite on the way over. Let’s find a cab first.” They continued toward the front of the hotel complex.

  “Does everyone stare at your face?”

  “I’ve gotten used to it over the years.”

  “Does it bug you?”

  “Depends on my mood.”

  “What happened?”

  He lowered his voice. “I was interrogated by a very sadistic man.”

  “Seriously? You mean like tortured?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have nightmares about it?”

  “Yes. Let’s find a cab.”

  That’s when he saw it, directly ahead: the black sedan, its wrecked rear end unmistakable. It cruised past the main driveway from right to left and braked to a stop.

  Had the driver seen them? Even though the sedan was several hundred feet away and their immediate area wasn’t well lit, he wasn’t sure. How could that sedan be here? There was no way the driver could possibly know they were in this hotel complex…unless he had a police scanner. Someone from the trolley station could have seen them cross the river and reported it, but if that were true, where were the police?

  He grabbed Lauren’s hand and backtracked along the landscaped path with the white benches. “Stay close.”

  “What are we doing?”

  “The guy who took you is back.”

  “How does he know where we are?”

  Nathan watched the brake lights wink out as the sedan moved out of his line of sight. He took Lauren off the path into a dark area of landscaping where he could watch the parking lot.

  “I’m scared.”

  He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “He can’t see us.”

  Bleed light from the sedan’s headlights grew brighter as it cruised down the opposite side of the U-shaped parking lot. It slowly rounded the corner like a predatory cat.

  “Lauren, don’t make a sound.” He crouched next to her, reached into his pocket, and pulled the SIG. Forty feet away, the sedan rolled to a stop.

  Chapter 10

  Lauren leaned against him.

  The tinted passenger window rolled down, revealing a pale smile.

  Nathan sensed a malevolent presence reach for them. He squinted and held perfectly still.

  The driver stared, also unmoving. When he spoke, it sent a shiver across Nathan’s shoulders.

  “You can’t hide forever, sweet Lauren. I’ll find you, and when I do, we’re going to party all…night…long…”

  The window rolled back up, and the sedan pulled away.

  Nathan put an arm around her. “I won’t let him hurt you, Lauren. Don’t be afraid.”

  “How did he find us?”

  A sound — the sharp crackle of a police radio — shattered the night silence from somewhere behind. Nathan thought it might have come from the water-feature area. A flashlight beam sweeping the concrete walkway confirmed it.

  “Shh…don’t say anything,” he whispered. “Stay close.” They hugged the wall of the building and worked their way deeper into the landscaping. The officer from the trolley station must’ve followed them into the hotel complex.

  They couldn’t go out to the parking lot. Lauren’s kidnapper could still be lurking, and he’d already demonstrated his disregard for collateral damage. The approaching cop became Nathan’s immediate concern. From their current position, they were discoverable. They needed to find solid visual cover in a big hurry. A flashlight beam would easily penetrate the landscaping and nail them.

  Scanning his surroundings, Nathan saw an opportunity, but it involved some risk. The flashlight came nearer. No choice. He took Lauren’s hand and led her toward the entrance to a restaurant. If the cop swept his flashlight in their direction, they’d be seen. All they needed was a few more seconds.

  Just as they reached the restaurant’s entrance, the cop’s radio crackled again. Nathan thought the narrowness of the walkway offered them some visual cover. He looked over his shoulder and pulled the door open.

  They passed an empty hostess station. Just ahead, he saw an exit out to a pool area. He hoped they’d find a way over to the registration desk by going that direction. Nathan felt a slight case of claustrophobia; he didn’t like being surrounded by structures. Single-story hotel rooms lined both sides of the pool. He angled toward the far side and picked up their pace a little.

  They entered the hotel lobby to find a few people standing in line at the registration desk. He took Lauren out the front door and saw a parked taxi, but its driver was gone. Back inside, Nathan saw a clean-cut man who might fit the bill. Wearing a Chargers ball cap, he sat in a chair near the entrance.

  “Is that your cab out front?” Nathan asked in Arabic.

  The man’s expression betrayed surprise. Nathan wondered if the reaction was from seeing the scars on his face or from his knowledge of Arabic. Probably both.

  Nathan pulled o
ut his wallet and removed a $100 bill. He continued in Arabic, “We need a ride.”

  The driver responded in kind. “I’m not available. I’m waiting for someone.”

  Nathan pulled two more bills and handed all three to the diver. “We don’t need change.”

  The driver nodded and took the money.

  Outside, Nathan skimmed the immediate area again but didn’t see the sedan. The siren he’d heard earlier was louder and seemed to be coming from the direction of the mall. He knew the police had a description of the sedan from the drive-by shooting. Nathan also believed Lauren’s kidnapper had to know that every cop in the area was looking for a dark sedan with a smashed rear end. Even if the presence of police in the area didn’t concern the guy, the bullet wound to his leg had to be distressing at best and downright life-threatening at worst. Nathan didn’t think Lauren’s kidnapper would hang around the area, but that was what he’d believed earlier, just before they were nearly gunned down on Friars Road.

  They slid into the cab, and Nathan thought they just might make it out of here in one piece. Lauren sat close as the cabbie turned the meter on. Nathan saw a small Garmin or TomTom navigation unit attached the windshield but couldn’t tell which brand.

  “What language is that?” Lauren asked.

  “Arabic.”

  “You speak Arabic?”

  “Yes. Please head for La Jolla,” he told the driver. “Take eight west to five north.”

  He removed the utility belt he’d taken from the security guard. Nathan craned his neck and looked behind as the cabbie pulled onto Hotel Circle North. All clear. No sign of the sedan.

  He felt his cell phone vibrate and removed it from his pocket. It was Harvey.

  “Sierra charlie.”

  “Understood,” Harv said.

  “Ten minutes.”

  “You got it.”

  Nathan ended the call.

  “What does that mean?” Lauren asked.

  He lowered his voice and looked around for the black sedan. “I’ll tell you later. Do you have anything in your pockets? Anything electronic?”

  “No, just a piece of paper. My mom told me to take it from my stepdad’s office. It was hidden. She told me where to find it.”

  “Let me see it.”

  Nathan unfolded it and held it up in the bleed light from the streetlamps. Below a single name, a list of numbers stared back at him.