Reluctant Hero

by Debra Webb

  “No idea who called nine-one-one?” Parker asked.

  “None,” Baird replied. “When SFPD arrived, your friend was alone and deceased.”

  Parker struggled to stay seated and calm. He felt as if he could punch through cinder block about now. “He deserved a better exit from this world.”

  “Most of us do,” Baird said. “The reporter came in when I called him earlier this morning. He didn’t volunteer much about the interview topic, but he did help us with the timeline.”

  Parker hid his surprise over the reporter’s cooperation. “Are you thinking the interview made Theo a target?”

  “Anything is possible.” Baird tapped his fingertips on the file. “The deviation in his routine might simply have put Mr. Manning in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s a rough neighborhood. I’m afraid it’s too early to tell, unless you care to shed some light on why they were talking.”

  “Could be anything, I suppose.” Parker propped his ankle on his opposite knee, deciding on the best way through this prickly situation. “I’m ashamed to say Theo and I hadn’t seen each other recently. Didn’t stay in touch as much as we should have. Overseas, we were tight. Had to be. Once we were home, we drifted apart.”

  “It’s natural,” the detective interjected, the weight of experience in his voice.

  “It is.” Parker met Baird’s steady gaze and realized the detective really did understand. “How long did you serve?”

  “Ten years in the navy,” Baird said, sitting up straighter. “Another ten in navy reserves.”

  Parker relaxed a bit. “Doesn’t make me feel any better for only reaching out to Theo a few times a year. I don’t really know enough about his day-to-day life to give you a good picture of him. He didn’t have any enemies during our service. Everyone liked him. Can’t imagine that changed in the civilian sector. He was a good man.”

  Killing Theo made no sense. Why strike down anyone on the list before the ransom deadline? Whoever was pulling the strings had to know that wouldn’t make Parker eager to cooperate. He had three days left to figure it out.

  “I’m hearing the same. We will work this step-by-step,” Baird promised. “I’m good at my job, Mr. Lawton, and I close cases. Someone has the information we need. If you think of anything else, give me a call.” He handed Parker a business card.

  “You got it.”

  Parker didn’t bother pointing out Theo had been trained in enough forms of combat from hand-to-hand to rocket-propelled grenades that he might as well have been labeled a walking weapon. Baird would know that with one look at Theo’s service record. The killer who’d managed to shoot him in the back of the head must have known that as well. A swift, silent surprise attack had been the best chance for success.

  “Has next of kin been notified?” Parker asked.

  Again, Baird consulted his notes. “His brother is on the way from Arizona. I expect the body will be released soon.”

  “Will you pass on my number?”

  “Of course,” Baird assured him.

  With a handshake, Parker left the police station, the muscles in his jaw tight with frustration. Outside, he checked the app, confirmed Rebecca’s status and put his mind back on his own investigation. There had to be a point where the bogus gold theft story, the blackmail note, Theo’s killer and Rebecca’s kidnapper intersected.

  Using public transit this time, he crossed town to the network building and asked to speak with Rebecca. When they gave him the out-of-office message and expected return date he’d sent on her behalf through her email, he left his name and number and went on to Gray Box to pick up the gear he’d dropped off.

  Rush, noticing his return, invited him upstairs for a quick word.

  “Everything okay?” Rush asked when they walked into his office. “I noticed you were late to the gala and left without saying hello last night. Coffee?”

  “Please.” Parker stifled an oath. Hopefully Rush was the only one who noticed. “Congratulations,” he said. “Sorry I missed your speech.”

  Rush laughed. “You’ve heard one acceptance, you’ve heard ’em all.” He handed Parker a mug of black coffee and sat down on the long, modern couch in front of the windows that offered a stunning view of the city. “What kept you?”

  Knowing that the closer the lie was to the truth, the easier it was for the liar, Parker sat down and told him about Theo. “They called me from the scene, since my number showed up in his recent call history. It shook me up.”

  “Sorry, man. Are you all right?”

  “Not really.” Parker shook his head and dropped his gaze to his boots, startled by the sudden wave of emotion threatening to pull him under. He had to keep his cool or be faced with increasingly uncomfortable questions. “Theo was one of the good guys, you know? I’m sad I won’t talk to him again and I’m pissed off that he survived a few war zones only to get shot in a stateside alley.”

  Wisely, Rush only nodded his agreement. It hadn’t been that long ago that Rush was up to his eyeballs in unfair and dangerous circumstances. He’d called Parker to dig up dirt on his wife’s former employer, who turned out to be wanted for war crimes. The man had given Lucy a terrible ultimatum: steal information from a secure cloud account at Gray Box or her sister and nephew would die. Although Parker trusted Rush and his partner, Sam, he couldn’t drag them into the mess he’d made.

  “You know Sam and I would do anything for you, Parker?” Rush waited until he had his full attention. “Without you, we might not even be here.”

  Parker wasn’t here for praise. Yes, he’d lent his expertise to both Rush and Sam recently. He’d handled the building security and assisted in a couple of sticky situations. Without the sage financial advice of Rush and Sam, Parker wouldn’t be independently wealthy today. Unbidden, a small voice in his head wondered if being an average guy might have prevented this situation.

  No sense leaping down that rabbit hole. Better to play the cards he’d been dealt than waste time and energy on the what-ifs. The money had been a blessing, empowering him to change his life as well as the lives of those he employed. He couldn’t allow one coward wanting a chunk out of his bottom line to spoil his outlook. He had to stay locked on to who he was, not how he was viewed—a lesson he’d learned on his military operations.

  Deciding to make use of the time Rush had given him, Parker changed the subject. “What do you know about Rebecca Wallace?”

  Rush’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Looking for an introduction?”

  What was it about marriage that turned perfectly sane men turn into matchmakers? He dismissed the notion of playing along. “That’s not what this is.” She wouldn’t have him anyway once she figured out he was the man holding her hostage. Why did that awareness annoy him? “The detective on Theo’s case told me he was killed on the way to his meeting with one of the top reporters on the show she produces.”

  “All right.” Rush frowned as if choosing his words carefully. “She’s smart as a whip. Born and raised in the movie business in LA. Seemed to cause a stir when she moved up here, out of her father’s shadow.”

  “You like her?”

  “And I respect her,” Rush said. “She knows the value of ratings, but she and her reporters get the facts straight. You were overseas when her show first featured Gray Box. She did another segment when we moved to this building. In both interviews her reporters asked tough questions and the end result was candid and overall positive publicity.”

  Parker didn’t take the endorsement lightly. Rush and Sam, with their checkered pasts, hadn’t always been treated fairly by the press. Now Rush and the company were big enough to effectively control any issues that might become problematic. It helped that his friends ran a clean business and maintained a product that remained impervious to computer hackers.

  “Did you go to her?”

&
nbsp; “No.” Rush sipped his coffee. “Her reporters came to me.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” Rush echoed the question, clearly startled. “Sam and I were news. Our start-up made a splash, had huge success, and now we’re investing in the community.”

  Parker hated lying to Rush after everything they’d been through. “I can’t think of anything newsworthy going on in Theo’s life.”

  “You could ask her,” Rush pointed out. “I can make a call and get you into the office.”

  Parker shook his head. “Thanks anyway. I’ve called. She’s out of the office. Her reporter hedged with the cops. He won’t be any more open with me.”

  “No ideas why your friend was meeting with her reporter?”

  Parker shook his head again, staring into the dark coffee in his mug.

  “But you’re going to look,” Rush said.

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “I have. You remember what happened when the gossip columns declared Sam married to a woman I didn’t know. Lucy and I went over immediately armed with champagne and doughnuts.”

  “And you called me.” Parker had been armed with deadly weapons when Rush asked him to help keep an eye on the newlyweds.

  “Turns out it was the right call.” Rush leaned forward. “We weren’t soldiers, but we have skills and resources. Connections, too. If you need us, Parker, ask.”

  He knew Rush, in business mode, was renowned for his savvy, his sound strategy and his ability to apply the right amount of pressure to a decision moment. It had been a long time since Parker felt someone could see through his defenses. “It’s personal,” he admitted.

  Rush waited him out.

  “Or it’s a random crime and nothing at all,” he added after another minute of internal warfare.

  Rush leaned back and stretched his arms across the back of the couch as if he had all day for Parker to choose between opening up and walking out.

  “I have it under control,” he said, standing up. “Thanks for the coffee, the ear and the insight on Wallace. If there’s a point when I’m in over my head, I’ll let you know.” He hoped it wasn’t obvious how close he was to sinking right now.

  “You’re the most capable man I know.” Rush stood up and extended his hand. “But seriously, anything you need, just name it.”

  “There is one thing.” Parker weighed the pros and cons of doing some of his work here. He didn’t want his problems to blow back on Gray Box. It was no secret they contracted with his firm, so spending time here shouldn’t raise any eyebrows. “Do you have a computer I could use to do some investigating—off the grid?”

  Rush grinned with pride. “You know you’re in the right place.”

  Parker followed Rush downstairs to an available cube on the cyber security level, just around the corner from Sam’s high-tech and intimidating work space. He started his search by scouring Rebecca’s cloud storage files for notes from the trip to Iraq. No anonymous sources on that story. She and Bill had gone looking for success stories between the US military and Iraqi communities and found several to use in their feature.

  Her notes were peppered with locations, names, anecdotes and pictures, and once more he felt admiration and respect for her. Not for her, for her approach, he reminded himself. She and Bill had gone out of their way, two people and their crew on a morale-building tour that seemed to have positive effects. Knowing he had to get a hot meal over to her in the safe room, he transferred the rest of the Iraq files to a thumb drive for later review. If there was an overlap, it would surely be there.

  When he skimmed through the broadcast history of the show, he noticed the way she balanced hard-hitting pieces with more upbeat, feel-good stories. He discovered Rebecca was just as Rush had described her. Tough, fair and thorough on the job, she let her reporters go for the jugular, but only after they’d done the research to prove the legitimacy of their approach.

  He skimmed background notes on stories that were initiated with vague anonymous claims and confirmed she’d answered him honestly about how they proceeded and verified the facts in those situations.

  Although he was glad to learn she hadn’t lied, he wasn’t happy that Theo died, likely caught in the cross fire of the typical verification process. Reading through her emails with Bill about the gold theft tip, he saw that between the two of them, they had tracked down current addresses and phone numbers on all the men listed.

  Parker thought about asking Sam to look for any evidence of a hacker monitoring her email and decided against it. He couldn’t abuse the friendship by asking Sam or Rush to get actively involved, just in case she did manage to drag him into court over kidnapping her.

  Someone wanted the gold theft story out there, and someone, other than him, was willing to kill to be sure it wasn’t told. He forced himself to look at the situation strategically, turning it over to view it from all sides as he’d done during his military days. It was possible the source had used Rebecca to flush out Parker and his team and take them out. The theory left a bad taste in his mouth and left him wondering if the blackmail note was designed to accomplish the same thing. Neither theory explained going after Rebecca.

  Taking advantage of working in an area where the signal couldn’t be picked up by any outside surveillance, Parker picked his way through her cell phone apps and records for a look at her life and habits. Her life seemed to revolve entirely around her work. Aside from her trips to the grocery store and gym, there were only a few calendar entries that might qualify as dates. Even her social occasions were driven by network or community events like the awards gala last night.

  This wasn’t his first time evaluating a target. Gathering and assessing intel and habits, despite the obvious privacy violations, created a better picture and revealed potential weak spots. Still, when he sat back and rolled the tension out of his shoulders, he wanted a shower to scour away the sensation that he’d been digging too deeply into her personal space.

  “First time for everything,” he said under his breath.

  He blamed the bulk of his discomfort on the guilt of yanking her out of her life. Who was he kidding? The guilt was bubbling up because every time he peeled back a layer, he actually liked the woman more and, as Rush had said, he respected her work. She didn’t allow her personal bias or that of her reporters into any of the finished broadcasts, though it cropped up in the planning stages.

  Shutting down her tablet and phone, he packed up and forced himself to consider how to release her. He didn’t want to let her go immediately. The risks were still too high. Yet he couldn’t keep her locked in the safe room indefinitely, ignorant of why she was there, even if he thought it was the best place for her. Without undeniable proof that keeping her out of sight was best, he didn’t stand a chance.

  Outside, waiting on another rideshare driver, Parker checked on Rebecca once more. She wore faded jeans and a pale T-shirt and her feet were bare. Tucked into the armchair, she was munching on a meal bar. She had a pad of paper balanced on her updrawn knees, and the pencil in her hand flew across the page, her head tilted to the side. For a moment, he did a double take, then recalled it had been in one of the pockets of her suitcase. He supposed a television producer raised in the movie business would have learned how to draw if only for storyboards or blocking sets, or to fulfill any number of new terms he’d learned since poking through her life. Curious, he made a mental note to check camera angles, in case she left the pad open.

  When the driver arrived, he gave the address for another generic midpriced motel near the airport. Once there, he booked a room for the night under a fake name and credit card and stowed his belongings. Armed only with his cell phone and a 9mm pistol at his back, he called a cab for the ride to the west side of town, grabbed a burger and milk shake and walked to the condo where Rebecca was hidden.

  He used the cameras to verify her
position in the safe room and then shut off the lights, plunging the room into darkness. A moment later, he hit the microphone and used the voice alteration effect to order her into the bathroom.

  “No.”

  He took his finger off the mic and sighed. He was too tired to fight with her. “Cooperate, Rebecca,” he said, trying again.

  She held her ground, standing in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, a defiant glint in her eye. Since he’d last checked on her, she’d pulled up her hair in a messy ponytail. “This has gone on long enough,” she said. “People are looking for me, Lawton. Let me out.”

  So she knew. Or was willing to try and convince her captor that she knew his name. What was he thinking? He was her captor. He thought of the man with the scar who’d tried to take her. The memory put a bite into his voice when he said, “No one is looking for you.” No one she wanted to find her, at any rate. “Into the bathroom.”

  “On one condition,” she said.

  “You’re not in a position to negotiate.”

  “Don’t lock me in this time. Please,” she said, staring up at the camera near the door.

  “Fine.” He caught the flash of a triumphant smile before she turned and hurried to the bathroom. Her mind was working overtime on some angle.

  When she reached the bathroom, he opened the safe room door only enough to slide the food through. Then he closed it and locked it, even as she ran across the room. He brought the lights up and turned off his mic.

  “Yes!” She did a fist pump and picked up the burger and milk shake. “Thanks,” she said, tossing another look at the camera before returning to the armchair with her food. “Is it lunchtime?”

  He didn’t reconnect the mic, just watched her happily devour her burger.

  “No Q&A today, Lawton? What day is it?”

  He stayed at the condo longer than he’d meant to, listening to the questions she hurled toward the ceiling while he studied her carefully. The woman was definitely up to something. He smiled, surprised how much he anticipated their next meeting.