by Jon Mills
“I didn’t.” She paused. “It’s complicated.”
“Isabel, these kids are twelve and thirteen years of age. The police aren’t going to find them. Hell, they haven’t even called the FBI. It’s been two months since the first boy went missing and a second one was abducted this morning. Today I saw a video…” Jack trailed off trying to push the thought of what he’d seen from his mind. “Look, if you don’t want to get involved, I would understand. But I sure could use your help. Heck, forget me, these kids could use your help.”
Jack shifted on the bed and took another swig of vodka.
“What do you want me to do?” she replied.
Chapter Nine
Isabel came out of the bathroom still staring at her phone. Had that conversation really happened? She looked up just in time to bump straight into Agent Daniel Cooper.
“Whoa, Baker, I know you are keen on me but…”
She untangled herself from his overly enthusiastic attempt to prevent her from falling flat on her ass.
“Cooper. Um.”
She could feel herself becoming hot. It felt like her collar was tightening around her neck. She was immediately paranoid at the thought that someone might have known who she was speaking to. The very thought of it made her want to find a quiet room and examine her phone closely to see if some form of software had been installed to monitor her conversations. In all honesty she hadn’t felt settled since the hearing. Even though she was fairly certain that she had not been caught on camera leaving the door to the interview room open, or pulling the fire alarm, there was always a nagging voice in the back of her mind that someone was going to find out. She spent the first few days after his escape rehashing every step she had taken to make it easy for him. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had obtained information from Jack prior to him leaving, or that other criminals had managed to get out of handcuffs, and doors had been known for not completely locking, she was sure they might have probed deeper. But they had what they needed and that was all that mattered.
“So how did it go with the hearing?” he asked leaning up against the wall and blocking all means of slipping by him.
“They have closed the case for now unless there’s additional information discovered.”
He smiled ever so slightly. “It’s kind of convenient, don’t you think, Isabel? I mean that you spilled the coffee over the equipment. I went to the bathroom, and the fire alarm system went off.”
“It is a little odd but crap happens all the time. Take Los Angeles for instance.”
He couldn’t argue that, even though he had. The fact was in their line of work an operation could go south on them at any second. As planned out as a raid could be, as well trained as they were, there would always be an unknown element. If it wasn’t for their vests that day, they wouldn’t have even been alive.
“So are they putting you back on the case to track him down?”
“No.”
“Another agent then?”
“Nope.”
Cooper frowned a little. “Seems like a waste?”
“What does?” Isabel glanced past him and was looking at the clock on the wall. She needed to get moving.
“All that time invested to bring him in only to let him go.”
Isabel pushed past him. “They got what they needed.”
Cooper fell in step as they strolled the hall passing other agents. “Sure, but was that all they needed? I got the feeling that they wanted him for something more than just busting the mob.”
“Don’t overthink, Cooper.”
He stopped walking and Isabel kept going.
“Overthink? There’s something that doesn’t add up about all this, Baker. Something you’re not telling me.”
She twisted around while continuing to walk backwards. “You up for a drink tonight?”
His eyes widened and a boyish smile spread across his face. “Of course. Your place or mine?”
As much as she hated the idea, she knew that would redirect his attention. “My place.”
“Seven?”
“Sure.”
She turned and continued on her way feeling his eyes bore into the back of her ass.
Upon returning to her office she took a seat at the desk and peered over the top of her monitor. Her desk was situated in the corner of the office, which was ideal as it meant no one was going to walk up on her without her knowing. She brought up the internal NCIC database and ran a check on the plate number that Winchester had given her. In an instant, an address in Albany, Oregon, appeared. She glanced up nervously and pulled out her phone and made the call. Jack answered.
Skipping small talk, she spoke. “Isaac Wellington, 881 Meadow Creek Lane.”
“Thanks, Isabel.”
“Jack, whatever you have yourself involved in, rethink it. The case on you is closed. You are off the wanted list. Live out your life, use what remaining years you have and stay out of trouble.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m good at that.”
“I’m serious, Jack. I don’t want to have to be the one that finds you again.”
“I allowed you to find me. Big difference.”
“What?” She wanted to argue with him but she saw a couple of agents look her way. “I got to go.”
She hung up and sat there for a moment before clearing her screen and logging out. As she turned ever so slightly on her chair, her mind churned over before she reached for the phone again. She tucked it in the crook of her neck and brought up the number for the Albany, Oregon, Police Department.
The phone rang, and an officer picked up.
“Yes. This is Special Agent Isabel Baker, I would like to speak to Chief Weldon.”
When the taxi arrived, he took a few minutes to check that the room was clear before he left and handed the keys in to the front desk. With a bag in hand he tossed it inside the trunk and asked the driver to head to the nearest car rental. Using another one of the fake IDs that he’d purchased in bulk from Tommy Kubric, he collected the keys and drove out in the direction of Isaac Wellington’s home. It was located in the northeast corner of the town in a typical residential area. This time he parked a few streets down just in case he had to bolt. He had thrown on a hoody to cover his face and a pair of sunglasses. When he approached the house, there was no car in the driveway. He knocked on the door a couple of times but got no answer. He was about to go around the back to take a look when an elderly neighbor came outside.
“He’s out I think. I saw him drive off earlier today. I think he said he had gone to visit his sister out of state.”
Jack nodded. “Do you know when he might be back?”
“Not sure, my dear, but you might want to check back in a few days.”
The old woman watered her flowers and then went back inside. The very second she was out of sight, he went around the back and tried the sliding door. Interestingly enough it was already open. It was slightly ajar and the window appeared as if it had been shattered. Jack pulled his Glock from the back of his jeans and entered. The glass crunched beneath his boots. There was no way he could avoid it.
Inside it was quiet. The décor was like any other home. A few photos hung on the wall of an American man, with his arm around what appeared to be his Asian partner. The air conditioning was churning away and pumping through the vents. It had been turned up so high that it felt extremely cold inside. He hadn’t stepped a few feet into the house when the smell of death reached his nostrils. It was faint but unmistakable. He’d been around enough dead bodies, and disposed of hundreds, to recognize it. He moved stealthily from room to room, fully expecting to see a stiff. He checked the living room, went up the stairs and into each of the bedrooms. Nothing. There was only one other place and that was the garage. He came down the stairs and placed his hand on the door handle that would lead into the garage. He turned it ever so slowly and eased it open. He didn’t need to flick a light on as it was already on. In the middle of the empty garage hanging from the rafters by he
r neck was the woman from the photo. A toppled chair rested on the ground below her. He could tell at a glance that she had been there for at least two or three days. He put a hand up to his nose and closed the door and rubbed any prints off. He went back out into the kitchen and looked down at some of the mail.
Isaac and Xiu Wellington.
The man Jack had seen that evening outside of the Grants’ home wasn’t Isaac. He figured whoever it was had stolen the vehicle, perhaps even used it to kidnap the boy. If Xiu was dead, he assumed that so was Isaac unless of course he was involved. Maybe he was part of the pedophile ring and Xiu had discovered it and killed herself, or he killed her and made it look like a suicide? But why show up in the car outside of the Grants’ place? So much of it wasn’t adding up. Unless of course, they had gone along with Stephen to keep an eye on him… or…
Jack glanced around.
He’s visiting his sister out of state, the old neighbor had said. Had he told her that to give himself an alibi if he was brought in on charges connected to the disappearance? No, it didn’t make sense. Why would Stephen give the police that license plate? Why would they use a local vehicle? Unless of course they wanted to throw the investigation in a new direction. Get the police to look elsewhere. Or perhaps they were monitoring Stephen to make sure he did his part?
What was even more troubling was the fact that the police didn’t appear to have followed up on the plate yet. The body still hanging from the rafters was proof of that. Why hadn’t they followed up?
Jack didn’t like this one bit. Was he being setup? He wasn’t going to be caught in the same situation again. He left the residence and went around to the neighbor’s house. He knocked on the door. She looked nervous when she answered.
“Yes?”
“Have the police been here?”
“No. Why?”
“Ma’am, you mentioned Isaac had gone out of state to visit his sister. She wouldn’t be living in Nevada, would she?”
“Yes. That’s it. Nevada. Is there something wrong?”
“No, it’s fine.”
Jack squeezed the insurance and registration inside his pocket. He thanked the woman and left. As he was walking away she called out to him.
“Excuse me, I didn’t get your name. Do you want him to know you came by?”
“That’s okay. I will speak with him later,” Jack shouted back without even turning around. He was getting close. He could feel it. The question was, where was Isaac? Against his better judgment he doubled back to the house. There was one last thing he needed to check. When he returned, he looked around for a note, a suicide note. There was nothing. Back inside the garage he looked around on the floor, again nothing. Then he saw it. Clutched between the woman’s hands. He pulled it out and unrolled it. The message was straightforward.
Isaac took the boys, I helped him. I’m sorry.
That was it.
No details on where they were.
Nothing more, just a confession.
Now it was beginning to make sense. Whether they were involved or not, it didn’t matter. Stephen was hoping to point the investigators toward Isaac, which meant only one thing — he was dead, but where was his body?
He went back into the living room and flicked on the TV and surfed through to the local news channel. It covered all manner of local events but nothing about Isaac.
Jack decided to head out before the police came knocking. As he returned to his vehicle he realized that this was far bigger than he imagined. It wasn’t just about one boy going missing but two and maybe even more if the video he saw at Stephen’s home was any indication.
These sickos were taking kids off the street right underneath the noses of well-to-do neighborhoods and then shipping them off somewhere to have people sexually assault them.
When Jack reached his car, he sat in it for at least five minutes chewing over what he had discovered so far. Stephen had played a large role in the abductions; the abductors had used a stolen car, possibly killed the owners and attempted to make it look as though they were involved. Or perhaps Isaac was involved?
As he pulled away he thought about what he did have. An address in Nevada, a website URL for a file-sharing server and an online username. He continued driving south on Cloverridge with the intention of leaving the town and heading for Nevada when he heard a fire engine siren in the distance. It was faint but getting closer. He hung a left on Knox Butte Road, when he noticed several of the vehicles were pulling over to the side. In his rearview mirror he saw a bright red fire engine barreling up the road with its lights flashing and sirens blaring. He pulled over and it shot past him. His instincts told him to follow it. It might have been a house on fire but with the number of cop cars that came flying by after he figured it was something much more than that.
As he brought the car back out and took off in the same direction, he came over a rise and in the distance he saw a spiral of black smoke. As he got closer, he noticed the police had blocked off the road and were directing traffic via an alternate route. Realizing he wasn’t going to be able to get near, he parked and took off on foot.
Police were busy stopping vehicles but not pedestrians.
A large crowd had gathered to get a better look at what appeared to be a vehicle on fire in the middle of a field.
“Did you see anything?” he asked a passerby.
“No, I just got here.”
Jack elbowed his way through to the front to get a better look. The fire engine crew was trying to put it out. Someone in the crowd said that there was a man inside.
“I saw it. He swerved into the field, parked, got out and took from his trunk a gasoline can and began emptying it all over the vehicle, then he did the same to himself. He got back in and then the whole thing went up in flames. I… couldn’t believe it.”
Thick black smoke rose high into the sky as firefighters battled the blaze. If the witness was correct, Isaac was in on it. But why kill himself? The humiliation of having been caught by his wife? The thought of spending the rest of his life behind bars? Pedophiles didn’t last long on the inside. Despite prison being full of murderers, rapists and the worst of society, there were some things that were off-limits. Kids were one of them.
Jack watched for a short while before he returned to his vehicle and took off with the registration and license belonging to the man in Nevada.
Chapter Ten
Billy sat in a corner of the room staring down at his hands. They were no longer covered in warm blood but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel it, or smell it. He’d been in shock for several hours after. The only reason he was functioning and doing as they told him was because he wanted to stay alive. He didn’t want to show weakness. That’s what Louis had shown. He had broken under their control and for that they had made an example of him. And yet he knew it was much more than that.
“They do it to everyone,” the boy he was sharing a room with said. He hadn’t spoken to him since being tossed inside like a bag of potatoes. He was the one that had helped him up, and washed off the blood. Billy was still trying to process what was going on. Nothing about what he was going through seemed real. It was like being in a nightmare that he couldn’t awake from.
“My name’s Joshua.”
Billy’s eyes flitted up to him. That’s when he saw the other two boys in the room. They were all around his age. Unlike the location he had come from, the place he was in now seemed more like a home. There were actual beds instead of dirty mattresses, a closet, and a bathroom off to one side and yet no windows, and no way out.
“All I can tell you is the worst of it is over. If you do as they tell you, you’ll live.”
“How long have you been here?” Billy asked him.
“Three years.”
“Are they going to let us go?”
“No. The place you came from is what they call a safe house. He breaks us down there, molds us and shapes us so we don’t run away.” He paused. Billy noticed that he didn’t have any bi
nds on. His own wrists were red and still showed the lines of being bound for up to fourteen hours at a time.
“Because you are here, it means they can trust you.”
“To do what?”
“To do as you’re told.”
Billy looked over at the other boys. No one was crying. It wasn’t just the fact that they wouldn’t allow it. Being used like meat made them become numb. Each of them learned to block out the horrors of what would happen when turned over to one or more men. Sessions could last as short as a few minutes to hours at a time. They were disgusting animals.
“Have you been in the plane yet?” one of them asked.
“No. What plane?”
“You’ll see. That’s where some of the worst shit happens.”
“But you said the worst is over?”
One of the kids chuckled. “I meant that Mexican bastard can’t touch you.”
Billy didn’t even want to think about it. His eyes drifted around the room taking in his surroundings. It wasn’t just curiosity but survival instincts kicking in. Could he escape through the vents? No, they were too narrow. At least the room itself was large. It was full of books, and a television was on a counter. The Mexican would have never allowed that. He got up and went over to it.
“It’s not what you think,” Joshua muttered.
He turned it on and instead of television channels, it was showing the room they were in. He stared up at what appeared to be a camera embedded in the vent of the wall and then back at the screen.
“Why would they do that?”
“To let us know that they are always watching.”
Billy backed away from the TV and switched it off. He gazed around and saw curtains. He went over and pulled them back only to find a wall.
“It’s just to give us the illusion of being in a house.”
He shook his head and squeezed the bridge of his nose feeling a tension headache coming on.
“Every word we say, every move is recorded.”
