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Captive Justice: A Private Investigator Mystery Series (A Jake & Annie Lincoln Thriller Book 4)

Page 5

by Rayven T. Hill


  “Anything else?”

  The unnatural voice became ominous and even deeper. “I’m afraid I must repeat myself. As long as the police are not involved, everything will go off without a hitch, but ...”

  “I’ll be there,” Jake said. “What about Mrs. Gould? Where’ll we find her?”

  “Mrs. Gould is safe, Jake. In fact, she and I were just having a lovely talk. She so longs to see her husband again, it almost brought me to tears to hear her.”

  Jake rolled his eyes and the voice continued, “I look forward to doing business with you, Jake.”

  There was a click on the line and then silence.

  Jake touched the hang up icon, set the phone down, and looked at Hank, who was on his feet, talking on his cell.

  Annie leaned back and waited for Hank to finish.

  “No luck,” Hank said as he dropped his cell back into its holder. “Callaway traced the call to somewhere in the downtown district, near Benson Avenue, but that’s as close as he could get. The GPS was turned off, as expected. King is down there looking around, but with no exact location, he’ll never find him.”

  “And the phone itself?” Annie asked.

  “A burner phone.”

  “No surprise there,” Annie said.

  “So we have to carry out the money drop,” Jake said.

  Hank nodded. “That’s our only option, but we’ll get the park covered and we’ll catch him.”

  Annie wasn’t so sure. The kidnapper hadn’t left a trace behind him thus far and she was sure he would have a foolproof plan in place.

  “I talked to the captain,” Hank said. “He made a phone call and was able to get an exception for you to carry a pistol.”

  Jake’s head spun toward Hank. “A pistol?”

  “Just for this one time. Just in case, you never know.”

  Jake shrugged. “I haven’t had much experience with a gun, but I’ll manage.”

  Hank looked at his watch. “We don’t have a lot of time, so let me get the detail in place. They’ll know exactly what to do, and then you and I’ll go to the range and fire off a few shots.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jake said.

  Just then Matty came charging into the office with a younger boy shadowing him. “Hey, Uncle Hank.”

  Hank grinned and tousled Matty’s hair. “What’s up, Matty?”

  “Not much. I saw your car out front.” Matty motioned toward the other boy. “Kyle and I are just messing around, probably practice a little soccer later.”

  Annie and Kyle’s mother, Chrissy, were good friends. Chrissy lived next door, and her seven-year-old son seemed to trail Matty wherever he went.

  “What’re you guys up to?” Matty asked.

  “We’re doing a job for a client,” his mother answered.

  “All right. Call me if you need any help,” Matty said as he zipped from the room, Kyle behind him.

  Hank chuckled and turned back to Jake. “We’d better get going.”

  Chapter 13

  Wednesday, August 31st, 4:39 p.m.

  JAKE FOLLOWED HANK to the Richmond Hill Police Precinct, parking their vehicles behind the building. He jumped from the Firebird, looked at his watch, and joined the cop. “We don’t have a lot of time to spare.”

  “This won’t take long.”

  The pistol range was located in the basement of the precinct. Half the lower level contained holding cells, divided by a concrete wall from the range.

  It wasn’t an elaborate setup like the big cities had, nothing more than an area set aside for target practice, padded and soundproofed, with two stationary shooting positions a dozen yards from the targets.

  A small shelf held a variety of protective equipment. Hank selected a pair of earmuffs along with safety glasses and handed them to Jake. “Put these on.” He chose a similar pair for himself, settled the earmuffs in place, and donned the goggles.

  Hank slipped his hand under his jacket and removed a pistol. “I got this for you. It’s a Smith & Wesson forty-caliber. A semiautomatic and not too big.” He hefted it in his hand, seemed satisfied, and moved to the shooting position. He flicked off the safety, went into a firing stance and fired. As the gun exploded, a hole appeared in the forehead of a human-shaped paper silhouette.

  Hank pushed back his earmuffs. “Think you can do that?”

  Jake shrugged. “Piece of cake.”

  Hank demonstrated how to pop the magazine in and out, and how to grip the weapon in his right hand and steady it with his left, before handing the gun to Jake.

  Jake took the weapon and wrapped his hand around it. It felt natural and not too heavy. He snapped the magazine in.

  “The first round has to be manually loaded into the chamber,” Hank explained. “To load, pull back this slide and release it. After a round is fired, the spent casing will be ejected and a new round loaded into the chamber.”

  Jake fumbled with the pistol a moment, finally got it loaded, and aimed at the target.

  Hank looked at Jake in amusement. “Make sure you’re in the proper firing stance. Your feet should be shoulder-width apart, with your left foot about a step past the other. Lean forward slightly with your knees bent, keep your head up, and make sure you’re balanced.”

  Jake did as he was told. It felt a little uncomfortable and not at all natural.

  Hank chuckled. “You look like you’re about to start the hundred-yard dash. Relax a bit and keep your thumb away from the hammer, or else when it pops back, you can get a nasty bite.”

  Jake frowned at Hank, adjusted his stance, and relaxed.

  “Now, line up the front and rear sights and then take a breath, exhale, and pull the trigger at the bottom of your breath cycle. Jerking the trigger abruptly will throw off your aim, so you need to squeeze the trigger.”

  Jake aimed for a spot between the sightless eyes of the target and squeezed.

  Nothing happened.

  “The safety’s on.”

  Jake grinned. “I knew that. I was just testing it.” He flicked off the safety and lined up the sights again. This time, when he squeezed the trigger, a shot exploded and echoed off the bare walls behind.

  “Not bad,” Hank said. “You only missed the target by eight inches. Try again.”

  Jake frowned at the weapon and took another shot.

  “That’s better,” Hank said. “You clipped his ear.”

  Jake took a few more shots, emptying the weapon, and finally managed to come close to where he was aiming.

  Hank showed Jake how to reload and the next shots were more accurate.

  “I got the hang of this,” Jake said.

  “Okay, that’s enough for now. Click the safety back in place and reload the magazine,” Hank said as he turned away.

  As Jake reloaded, Hank returned with a shoulder holster and a bulletproof vest. “When you get home, wear a t-shirt, then put the vest on, then your shirt over top and then the holster. It might get a little warm under there, but you’ll get used to it.”

  “I don’t expect to get shot at,” Jake said.

  “Probably not, but at least you’ll be safe.”

  Chapter 14

  Wednesday, August 31st, 6:55 p.m.

  JAKE PARKED the Firebird on the side street nearest the north entrance to Richmond Valley Park and stepped out. He felt a little uncomfortable in the vest, especially when he was driving, and the weapon underneath his jacket felt bulky.

  And to make matters worse, Hank had insisted Jake wear a wire, so Callaway had fitted him with a small microphone fastened inside the lapel of his jacket.

  He reached into the backseat, removed the briefcase he’d picked up from Dr. Gould a few minutes ago, and strode across the road and onto the grass of the expansive park. It was a warm summer evening and all was quiet except for the tweet of a bird somewhere in the trees. A dog barked somewhere off in the distance and the occasional person, or couple out for an evening stroll, wandered past.

  As he crossed the lawn near a hot dog ven
dor, he glanced at the man behind the counter. Jake recognized the apron-clad merchant as one of the officers he’d seen around the precinct. He suspected the cop had a weapon nearby, probably under his apron. He was busy chopping something up, but from where he worked, he would have a clear view of the bench where Jake was headed.

  A lamppost fifty feet away supported the back of a wino, sitting on the grass, wearing tattered clothes and hat, his right hand holding a brown paper bag, his head bowed as if dozing or in a drunken stupor. From that position, the bum would still have a clear view of the entire area from the corner of his eye.

  Jake approached the bench where he was to meet for the exchange, sat down, and laid the briefcase beside him. He leaned back and looked around.

  Off to his right, on another bench, a couple of lovebirds were deep in conversation, not giving him a glance, seemingly intent only on each other. Between the two of them, they would have a clear view of anyone coming into the park from either direction.

  He was surrounded by cops. Jake suspected there were more about, probably at all entrances to the area and perhaps even a hidden sniper. Hank would be around somewhere as well.

  He looked at his watch. It was one minute after seven. He didn’t know what to expect.

  He watched a pair of squirrels run by, weaving and dodging as one chased the other across the grass and finally up a tree and out of sight. The leaves rustled and branches bowed as the furry animals leaped from tree to tree and continued their game elsewhere.

  Jake felt under his jacket. The pistol was loaded, the safety on.

  And then his phone rang.

  Jake frowned. That wasn’t his ring.

  It rang again. The sound came from under the bench. Jake got down on one knee and peeked underneath. A cell phone was taped to the underside, held firmly in place by a piece of duct tape.

  He carefully peeled back the tape and retrieved the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Jake?” It was a deep abnormal voice.

  Jake examined the buttons on the front of the disposable phone. He touched the speaker button so the mike under his jacket could pick up the conversation.

  “This is Jake.”

  “It seems we have a problem.”

  “What problem?” Jake asked. “I’m here and waiting for you.”

  “I said no police.”

  “I’m alone.”

  “I’m surprised at you, Jake. Who’re you trying to fool? The place is surrounded. You don’t think we can make a successful exchange under these circumstances, do you?”

  Jake was silent.

  “I was explicit in my instructions. Did you not understand?”

  “I understood.”

  “Then why are there police around? I can see at least four from where I am.”

  Jake glanced around. Was the kidnapper nearby? There were a couple of cars parked on the street near Jake’s vehicle, but they’d been empty when he’d arrived. If anyone was in the park and within sight, the police would already know about them.

  He decided the kidnapper was bluffing. He wouldn’t be careless enough to show himself if he knew the police had the area covered.

  “Where are you?” Jake asked.

  The caller gave a deep ominous laugh, and then asked, “You don’t expect me to give myself away, do you?”

  “I have the money and I’m here to make the exchange. That’s what you asked for.”

  “Change of plans, Jake.”

  Jake wasn’t surprised. He didn’t expect things to be quite so easy. “What’re your new plans?”

  “Very simple. You want Mrs. Gould and I want the money. Under the current circumstances, that can’t happen.” There was the rasp of breathing on the line. “You’ll take the money and get in your car.”

  Jake stood, grabbed the briefcase, and glanced at the pair of cops on the other bench. He had no choice but to do as he was told. The safety of Mrs. Gould was at stake.

  He strode across the lawn, climbed into his car, and set the briefcase on the passenger seat.

  “Are you ready to go?” the voice asked.

  “All ready,” Jake answered as he started the engine.

  “I know the police are listening, so do exactly as I say and don’t try to tell them where you are by making some obscure comment you think might give them a clue to where you’re going. I’m not that stupid.”

  “I’ll do exactly as you say.”

  “That’s the spirit, Jake. You’re being cooperative and that’s the best thing for the sake of dear Mrs. Gould.” There was a pause and rumbling on the line. “Drive straight ahead. Go slowly.”

  Jake dropped the gearshift into first, let out the clutch, and pulled onto the street.

  “Excellent, my friend. Now, I’m going to let you make a choice. When you get to the next intersection, you may either go right or left, but don’t tell me which way, just turn.”

  Jake eased up to the intersection and turned right. “Okay, I’ve turned.”

  “Keep going, slowly.”

  What was he up to? This made no sense. Jake continued to drive for a couple of minutes.

  “Now, turn again at the next street, either way, left or right.”

  Jake spun the wheel to the left onto a narrow street. “I’ve turned.”

  “Perfect. Now, take a right at the next street.”

  Jake turned to the right.

  “And now, a left turn.”

  Jake understood now. If the police tried to calculate the location he was heading, they would be confused, but somehow the kidnapper knew where Jake was going.

  “Keep driving, Jake. You may go faster now, but keep to the speed limit please.”

  Jake drove for several minutes. He was heading out of the city. Soon, the buildings grew scarcer until he was on a two-lane road, heading north.

  The voice on the phone interrupted him. “You’ll take a left at the next road, at the traffic lights. Let me know when you have turned.”

  Jake knew the area. A narrow road intersected the one he was on a few hundred feet ahead. He eased up to the intersection. The light was green and he spun the steering wheel.

  “I’ve turned left.”

  The road was rough and narrow and he drove carefully for a couple of minutes, dodging potholes and bulging pavement, as he eased up the tree-lined road.

  “Stop. Pull over.”

  Jake pulled the Firebird to a stop.

  “Get out of the vehicle with the briefcase and throw it over the fence to your right.”

  Jake dragged the case and stepped from the vehicle. He held the handle of the briefcase and swung. The case sailed through the air and landed in a patch of weeds over the fence.

  “You may leave now.”

  Jake took a glance in all directions, struggling to see through the darkness of the trees on either side of the road. Nothing moved. If the kidnapper was around, he was well hidden.

  “Jake, you’re to leave now.”

  Jake knew he was being watched from somewhere. He took another quick glance and stepped back inside his car.

  “Toss the phone into the ditch.”

  Jake did as he was told, dropped the shifter into gear, spun the car around, and headed back to the city.

  He was disappointed they had no indication of who the kidnapper was, but he’d done his job and he prayed for the safe return of Mrs. Gould.

  Chapter 15

  Wednesday, August 31st, 8:11 p.m.

  ANNIE WAS CURLED up in her favorite chair in the living room, stealing frequent glances through the front window while attempting to concentrate on her book.

  Jake had called a few minutes ago to let her know he was okay and he would fill her in on the rest when he got home. Hank was on his way as well.

  She’d been concerned about Jake, but knowing he was safe, her worries turned to Mrs. Gould and of course, Dr. Gould, who she imagined was pacing about anxiously waiting for his wife’s homecoming.

  A familiar roar sounded outside an
d Annie watched Jake pull the Firebird into the driveway. Hank parked by the curb and joined Jake, and together they strode up the path to the front door.

  “We’re here,” Jake called, as he stepped inside. He peeked into the living room and grinned. Annie came to meet him and wrapped herself around him. “I’m okay,” he said, giving her a quick kiss.

  Annie greeted Hank and asked, “Any news about Mrs. Gould?”

  Hank shook his head slowly. “She hasn’t been heard from yet.”

  “I’m worried about that,” Jake said. “I assumed he would let me know where she is once I dropped off the money.”

  “Unfortunately, we’re at his mercy and there was no choice but to deliver the money,” Hank said. “I have people on it right now. King was downtown in the area where the cell phone was found, knocking on doors, but I’ve sent him and several officers to the place where Jake tossed out the briefcase. If there’s anything to find, they’ll find it.”

  Hank dropped onto the couch as Annie returned to her chair. Jake undid the holster and removed his outer shirt and vest. He dropped them onto the floor beside the couch and sat at the other end. “That feels better.”

  “Make sure you lock that pistol up safely,” Hank said.

  Annie leaned forward and eyed the vest. “It doesn’t look comfortable.”

  “It’s not too bad,” Jake said. “But as it turned out, I didn’t need it.”

  “It’s a good thing,” Annie said. “It might stop a bullet, but the impact could still knock the wind out of you.” She laughed at Hank’s perplexed look and continued, “I do a lot of reading.”

  Jake turned to Hank and explained. “She’s got a whole stack of books on police procedure, crime scene investigations, you name it, she’s got it.”

  “You can never know too much,” Hank said as he looked at his watch. “I’m waiting for Callaway. We suspect there was a tracer attached to your vehicle. He’s on his way and he’ll go over it thoroughly, but for now all we can do is wait until Mrs. Gould returns. Hopefully, she’ll have something we can go on to track this guy down.”

 

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