[Kate Reid 01.0 - 03.0] Unbound

by Robin Mahle

  “See ya.”

  The days were growing longer and by the time they’d reached the restaurant, the sun still shone high enough over the horizon to suggest early evening, but it was approaching eight p.m.

  “I asked Georgia to join us,” Nick said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No. Not at all. It’ll be nice to spend some time with her. But I thought this was a working dinner?”

  “It is. Georgia won’t mind. She’s used to shop talk.” Nick held the door open for Kate and the two stood at the host station.

  “I see her over there,” Kate said.

  A young college-aged woman approached the podium. “Party of two?”

  “Actually, three, and it looks like the first is already here,” Nick replied. “Can we go back?”

  “Certainly. Go right ahead. Enjoy your meal.”

  They approached the beautiful redheaded woman whose features appeared much softer than in the harsh light of the office.

  Georgia rose to greet them. “Kate. It’s good to see you.” The women embraced for a brief moment.

  Kate took a seat across from Georgia and waited for the two as they exchanged in a polite kiss.

  “So, Nick tells me you kicked ass today in Hogan’s Alley.”

  Kate chuckled. “Well, I don’t know if ‘kicked-ass’ is the right term, but I did all right.”

  “Don’t be modest.” Nick waved his hand. “You kicked ass.” He scanned the restaurant. “Where’s the waiter? I could use a drink.”

  The waiter appeared as if he knew he was being summoned and took the drink order.

  As much as Kate had wanted to celebrate her accomplishment, it was the middle of the week and she still had to be on the track first thing in the morning. “Just an iced tea for me, thanks.”

  “What? You’re not joining us in a drink to toast to your success?” Nick asked.

  “How about we hold off on any celebrations until I actually graduate?”

  “She’s right.” Georgia looked at Kate. “Not about waiting to see if you graduate, of course. I have no doubt about that, but I remember what it was like at the Academy, and going in with little sleep or a hangover is not recommended.”

  “You mentioned getting me up to speed?” Kate shifted the focus away from her.

  “I got a call from Detective Franks in Virginia Beach late last night. We won’t be bringing Druseburg in.” Nick took in a breath that appeared intended to calm him. “He was found dead on the doorstep of his home. The housekeeper stays on the property and she got up in the middle of the night to go to the kitchen and noticed the front door was open. His body was laying across the threshold.”

  Any enthusiasm she’d felt about her success today had all but faded into oblivion. This was a huge blow to the investigation. “What happened?”

  “A shot to the chest. I didn’t want to tell you before you had your drill today.”

  At this moment in time, she was glad he’d waited to drop the bomb. There was no doubt it would have thrown her for a loop. Nick appeared completely deflated too. “And the housekeeper didn’t hear any gunfire?”

  “This was a professional job. Shooter probably used a silencer.”

  “How the hell—I thought Franks had surveillance on him? I don’t get how this happened.” It took a moment for Kate to realize that her voice had raised an octave and that people were beginning to turn their attention toward her.

  “The only person he’d spoken to in the past two days, according to the phone records, was his lawyer. He knew we were coming after him.”

  Kate was destroyed by this news. This meant Nicola was still in danger. Kovac and Corbett were still out there, running around, collecting more victims. “Goddamn it.” She turned away.

  “Kate, I know this is a setback, but we’ve got a lead on a location for Corbett, thanks to the phone records you gave me. I had no trouble getting the subpoena after what happened and I forwarded the information from the cell carrier to Detective Moreno. I’m waiting to hear back from him, but it looks like they found an address linked to him. And, the subpoena was extended to include emails and whatever was on Druseburg’s computer.” Nick paused for a moment. “This isn’t over yet.”

  “I’m sorry,” Georgia began. “I know how hard the both of you have been working on this.”

  The waiter placed the drinks onto the table and took the dinner order. “I’ll be right back with your food.”

  “Thank you,” Nick said. “Anyway, Jameson’s been combing through the emails and came across an exchange between Corbett and Druseburg that mentioned a person by the name of Mercer. Didn’t mention a first name, but the email suggested this individual was the one who would authorize the gift that Druseburg was to receive in exchange for the loss of his last house guest.”

  “This Mercer could be the man in charge?” Georgia asked.

  “I’m thinking he’s at least higher up on the food chain than Corbett. Kate, I’d like you to come with me tomorrow afternoon to go and check the house we think belonged to Corbett. It’s doubtful he still occupies it, but we might find some indication of where he is.”

  “Okay.” The offer was genuine, but it felt like a consolation prize. Druseburg was the key to bringing down Corbett and now he was dead.

  “Good. It won’t take us long. The place is just outside of Alexandria.”

  “That close?”

  “Yep. Just down the goddamn road.” Nick picked up his Jack and Coke and tossed it back.

  The keys jingled in the lock before it finally clicked open. Georgia walked inside and Nick followed behind, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “That was a nice dinner, all things considered,” Georgia said, already at the fridge and pouring a glass of wine. “You want a drink?”

  “Sure, thanks.” He tossed his keys into a bowl that lay on the side table. “It was good for all of us to spend time together. We haven’t done that since Kate started at the Academy.”

  “She’s almost through it now.” Georgia returned with drinks in hand.

  “Thanks. She has come a long way.” Nick pulled open the sliding glass door that led to the deck overlooking the bay.

  The breeze was cool and the waters lapped gently against the shore. Georgia stepped outside. “My God, it is gorgeous out here. I forget sometimes, being in the middle of the city.”

  “I forget for the simple fact that I’m hardly ever here.” Nick raised his glass. “Cheers.”

  Georgia leaned against the railing and let the breeze lift her hair. “I wish it wasn’t such a challenge, us spending time together.”

  “I know it’s hard.” He put his arm around her. “But we’re here now and we should make the most of it. Chances are, by week’s end, you’ll be consulting on another case.”

  “Or you’ll be back in Richmond, or Virginia Beach or God knows where with Kate and Dwight.”

  “Maybe, but for tonight, it’s just you and me. No more shop talk.” Nick touched her red-stained lips with his and kissed her the way she wanted. Soft, but firm enough that she knew she was being kissed. He pulled away and looked her in the eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” He held her gaze. “I just forget sometimes how beautiful you are. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Nick sat at the edge of the bed, looking over his shoulder at Georgia. He didn’t want to wake her and stepped quietly to the floor and pushed off the bed. He walked into the hall with bare feet and wearing only boxer shorts.

  The corridor was almost black and his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the sparse light that shimmered through the glass door. But he knew his way well enough and made it to the kitchen with little thought. In fact, he wasn’t sure if he was quite awake. The reflection from the water on the bay inside the apartment formed a hazy illusion.

  Thirst was his primary concern and Nick retrieved a glass from the cabinet above the toaster. Placing it beneath the faucet, he filled the cup. It took but a few momen
ts for the water to soothe his cotton mouth—a side effect of too much drink.

  He shuffled to the balcony door and stared at the moon that hung low in the sky. As the minutes ticked by, Nick became more alert, sober, and an idea took root in his mind. He fired up his laptop and looked up his contacts at Interpol. A quick glance at the time and he realized the man would already be awake. It was morning in London.

  Nick didn’t have much interaction with the Washington command center for Interpol, but he’d met Inspector Montrose a couple of years back when he was working a case where the suspect had fled to England. His contact might be of some use if he could run the name Mercer and see if anything caught by way of a watch list. It was a long shot, but he didn’t have anything to lose.

  In an email, he briefly described the investigation and asked him to check on the name. He included Corbett and Kovac. Might as well cover all the bases, since he was asking.

  Nick reached for his phone, which he’d taken with him from the bedroom. He never went to bed, he never went anywhere without his phone. Hazards of the job. A call could come at any moment, and his response could be critical.

  The screen didn’t indicate any missed calls, or any texts, he found as he checked it in the off chance he hadn’t heard it ring while he was sleeping. Still, he felt something was missing. This case was splintering into several directions and he needed to gain a foothold on it. Of course, he thought he had one with Druseburg, but that had vanished.

  Now his two suspects were keeping an even lower profile as a result. That didn’t help matters. He looked at his phone again. Finally, he unlocked the screen and typed a text message.

  “You up?”

  It was cruel to drag someone else into his insomniac misery, but he wanted to bounce ideas off her. He waited for a while and began to lose hope. Moments later, he finally gave up and stood in a long stretch. Then he’d return to the warm bed with the woman he loved waiting inside it.

  A message lit up his phone. “I’m up. Everything ok?”

  She answered. Kate answered and he knew she would. Nick sat back down at the table and started typing a reply. “Just had an idea and wanted to bounce it off you.”

  Almost in an instant, her reply followed. “Shoot.”

  For the next twenty minutes, Nick and Kate exchanged messages and hashed out a plan for tomorrow. It was what he needed in order to find sleep again; just get it off his chest, and she was there to listen.

  The hall light glowed, catching Nick’s attention. He cast his gaze down the corridor and watched as Georgia emerged. “Hey. I’m sorry, babe. Did I wake you?”

  She moved in closer with a sleepy shuffle. “I looked over and you weren’t in bed. I just came to see if everything was okay. What are you doing up?” She looked down at the phone in his hands. “Who are you texting?”

  19

  At first glance, it was difficult to know for sure if that was Nick’s car traveling along the two-lane blacktop toward the Jefferson dormitory. An illusion had formed that made the roadway turn to water. The heat was the cause and when it combined with the humidity, it could sap the energy from anyone.

  Kate waited for the SUV to emerge from the depths of the pooling road and, when she was confident of his identity, she reached down to retrieve the laptop bag that lay against her calf.

  The late afternoon arrival was necessary in order for Kate to finish the day’s training, but Nick had planned ahead and sent Jameson to the last known residence of James Corbett; information that Detective Moreno with Metro police conveyed earlier. After a few late night texts, she knew he’d reached out to his contact with Interpol London and was anxious to find out if it had led anywhere. The case was beginning to drag and that was never a good thing. Certainly not good for the dead women and not good for Nicola’s family. Kovac likely wouldn’t stop until he rid himself of the final loose end—Gregor Bjuric. But with Richmond PD keeping eyes on his home and the diner, the man had yet to show his face.

  The silver SUV rolled up to the curb and Kate stepped inside. “Thanks for picking me up.”

  “No problem. It won’t take us long, Jameson’s waiting there now.” Nick grabbed the gearshift and put it in drive. “I heard back from Montrose.” He turned to Kate, wearing a knowing grin.

  “Must be good news.”

  “Well, I’ll start off by saying that Jameson found a few more names in the correspondence between Corbett and Druseburg. I gave the names to Montrose for him to put together in various patterns and he got a hit on a Richard Mercer.”

  “Who is he?” Kate asked.

  “He’s suspected of human trafficking. Malaysia, Thailand, and Southeastern Europe primarily.” Nick stopped at the guard gate and handed his ID to the attendant. Finally, the gate opened and he drove through.

  “Suspected. So that means they don’t have anything concrete,” Kate replied.

  “No. And after a fairly lengthy conversation I had with him earlier, it looks as though we might have the biggest lead tied to him. The man’s been extremely cautious and the only reason Montrose even found the name was because one victim had managed to escape and gave his name to the authorities some time ago.”

  “And that wasn’t enough to bring him in?”

  “Well, they didn’t have a location on him for one thing, and two days later, the girl who gave the name turned up dead.”

  “So I bet Montrose is pretty interested to see what we’ve got.”

  “You could say that.”

  The conversation seemed to reach a conclusion and while they held out hope of finding something in Corbett’s home, the case had already taken so many wrong turns, each had become weary of a good outcome.

  “Listen, I want to apologize for disturbing you last night. It’s just, I don’t know, I woke up and my mind started going full speed ahead.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. Are you kidding? Anytime you want to talk, I’m here.” Kate peered through the passenger window. “God knows you’ve been there for me plenty of times.”

  “Thanks. Sometimes, if I can just get the ideas out of my head, I can sleep again.”

  “I understand,” she said.

  A final right turn down the street of a middle-class suburb of Alexandria and they had arrived.

  “This is it.” Nick shifted into park and shut off the ignition. “Looks like Jameson’s still here.”

  The modest house with the grey exterior and white trim wasn’t exactly what Kate expected to find. For a man who earned his living through the enslavement of others, she expected a more boastful accommodation. Instead, this home looked perfectly ordinary in a perfectly ordinary neighborhood.

  Agent Jameson stepped outside as they approached the front porch. His hands on his hips, Jameson began shaking his head.

  “Well, that can’t be good,” Nick said as he climbed the steps. “What’d you find in there?”

  “Absolutely nothing. This house has been empty for a while, at least three weeks, maybe a month. Landlord said he hadn’t seen Corbett since he dropped off his last rent payment in that same amount of time. Cash, of course.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure the landlord was meticulous in who he decided he would rent to. Cash is king.” Nick peered over his shoulder. “Come on; let’s get inside before we draw a crowd.”

  Kate trailed behind, stepping through the doorway to see that the home hardly looked lived in at all. Sparsely decorated, furnishings that were outdated and well worn. “This place must have been already furnished.”

  “What makes you say that?” Nick asked.

  “Because this is a man who doesn’t stay in one place for long. Pays cash for rent, probably uses prepaid cards for utilities.” She continued to examine the living room where the three now stood. “These are not his things. He needs to be able to pick up and leave at a moment’s notice.”

  Jameson turned to Kate. “You’re right. It was already furnished, according to the landlord. We’ve got no computers, no papers, not much of anythin
g. But we can run prints and determine if any match-up to Druseburg or Kovac.”

  “Or Richard Mercer,” Nick said.

  “Who’s Richard Mercer?” Jameson hadn’t been privy to the information Nick obtained from his contact at Interpol, but was quick to be filled in on the interesting news.

  “All right, then. Let’s collect some prints and we’ll go from there. If we can tie Mercer to either of our guys, we might just be able to enlist the help of Interpol.”

  “Without Vito or Toma, I have to recruit someone else to find the girls for me.” Stan Kovac raised his hand and scratched his shaved head, which was already revealing a five o’clock shadow.

  “Maybe we just need to take care of this shit ourselves,” Corbett replied. “I’m telling you, nobody’s reliable anymore.” He walked to the dining room table and pulled out a chair. “The Arranger’s going to be calling in a few days, looking for more assets. If we don’t have anything, well, let’s just say the man in charge has no concept of forgiveness. You’ll be gone, I’ll be gone, and they’ll find another couple of schleps to replace us. So I suggest we get our shit together and fulfill the order.”

  Kovac pressed his cigarette into the ashtray and exhaled the final puff of smoke. “This whole thing’s turning out to be a giant pain in my ass.” He sat down at the table. “I got the cops chasing my tail. Can’t go back to the diner, can’t go home. Where the fuck am I supposed to go, Jim?”

  “We need to scope out a few places tonight. Figure out if they’re worth revisiting tomorrow to get what we need. I gotta couple of guys I can call. They’ll give me some idea who’s invisible. Then, you can just go back to your hotel. Let’s get this done before these guys decide they doesn’t need us anymore.”

  Corbett pushed back and got up from the table. “Get your shit together. We’re leaving now.”