Brodeur stiffened. “If the shoe fits…” the woman snarled. Great, now she’d pissed off a woman who probably had a gun hidden in a shoulder holster under her jacket. Genius, Diana, genius.
“Well, my curiosity has gotten me in trouble before, so the shoe does fit,” Diana tried to smile, but it felt as if her face was about to crack. At least her words seemed to mollify Brodeur, who smiled back. Only there was nothing comforting about that smile. It was like staring a shark in the face.
“So, tell me, how exactly did you find the body?” Brodeur asked.
Diana’s first instinct was to query why she needed to ask her that. If she was a police officer and working with Hopkinson, then she should know. But she didn’t want to give the game away. She didn’t want to alert Brodeur to the fact that she already knew the woman wasn’t who she claimed to be.
So, she shrugged. “He was leaning against a tree. I asked him if he needed help, and that’s when I realized he was dead. I called the police, and that’s pretty much it.”
Brodeur cocked her head. “Ms. Hunter, I’m getting the distinct impression you’re not telling me the whole story.” She emphasized the word, “whole”.
“I’m sorry if that’s the impression I’m giving. But that’s all there really is to it. I know finding a dead body should probably sound more exciting, but it’s not. In fact, it’s rather unpleasant.” She scrunched her nose in what she hoped was a good imitation of disgust.
Brodeur shook her head. “You must really think I’m a fool, Ms. Hunter. I know Detective Hopkinson visited you twice at your home and that you were at the crime scene together this morning. And now I find you nosing around the same crime scene again. So, tell me, Ms. Hunter, if all you did was find the body, why are you still involved in this case?”
“I promise you, Sergeant Brodeur, I am not involved in this case. I’m just an unlucky bystander who happened upon a murder victim, that’s all.” Diana was starting to like this situation less and less. She needed to do something about the Swiss Army knife in her bag. She needed to make sure it got to Hopkinson.
“You’ll have to excuse me for a moment, Sergeant, I have to head to the ladies’ room.” Diana got to her feet. Though she could see Brodeur was conflicted about letting her go, she didn’t give the woman a chance to say anything. Diana wound her way through the tables and made it to her destination with a sigh of relief.
Locking herself in one of the stalls, she dug the Swiss Army knife out of her bag and wrapped it in toilet paper. At least that way, the only contamination would be from her. Thinking quickly, she scribbled a quick note with a pen she found at the bottom of her bag. Writing on toilet paper isn’t easy, but she finally managed to get a few words down.
FAO: Detective Peter Hopkinson c/o Vancouver Police Department
She placed her valuable package on top of the toilet’s water tank. Pulling out her phone, she paused the recording and typed out a quick text to the detective.
Found knife at scene. Left it in bathroom stall at Starbucks.
She hit send. That’s when she saw she’d already received a message from him.
That woman is not Vancouver PD. Get out of there now! On my way.
Diana grimaced. It was too late for that. Another message pinged. It was from Hopkinson.
Give it to me yourself. Be there in 10.
Just as she was about to type out another text, she heard the door to the toilets open. “Ms. Hunter, I think you’ve been in there long enough,” Brodeur’s silky yet threatening voice echoed around the room. Damn! She couldn’t let the woman see inside the stall. She put her phone back in her pocket and pressed the flush. She slipped out of the stall, making sure not to open the door too wide, and closed it behind her quickly.
“Sorry,” she said with an apologetic look on her face. “I had something that didn’t agree with my stomach and… Well, you get the idea.” Brodeur’s face wrinkled up with distaste. It was exactly the effect Diana was going for. She headed over to the sink, put her purse down, and made a big spectacle of washing her hands. She was trying to stall, hoping to give Hopkinson more time.
Brodeur cleared her throat, and Diana glanced up, looking at the woman in the mirror. She was holding her jacket open, showing Diana her gun plain as day. “Let’s drop the pretense, Diana. You know I’m not a cop, and I know you have more information on this case than you’re letting on. So, you and I are going to take a quick trip.” Diana tensed. They were about the same size. The woman hadn’t drawn her gun yet. She had a chance. Her muscles tensed.
Before she could make a move, however, Brodeur issued a threat that made her freeze in her tracks. “If you try anything, I promise you I won’t hesitate to put a bullet through the head of that pretty little barista out there. The only way to stop me doing that is to kill me or do as I say. And since you are no killer, Diana, and I’m the one with the gun, I suggest you go with option two.”
Diana wanted to punch the woman in the face. But Brodeur was right, Diana wasn’t a killer. She might be able to incapacitate the woman for a short while, but there was no guarantee Hopkinson would arrive in time to stop Brodeur from carrying out her threat. She would not put an innocent in harm’s way.
Diana threw Brodeur a frigid look. “Option two it is. Lead the way.”
“Oh no, Ms. Hunter. Please, after you. I insist.” Diana clenched her jaw but did as she was told. She stepped out of the ladies room with Brodeur following closely behind. “Outside.” Diana nodded. This was amazing. She was being kidnapped by a madwoman in the middle of the day, with people milling around, and a detective a few minutes away. But she followed Brodeur’s instructions, unwilling to put Jenny at risk.
As they left the coffee shop, Diana saw a black SUV with tinted windows parked just to the right. The back door was open. “Get in the car,” Brodeur growled at her. Just as the woman was about to push Diana in, a voice called out her name.
“Diana, you forgot your order!” It was Jenny. She was standing on the sidewalk holding up a bag and a cup of coffee.
Brodeur looked at Diana suspiciously. “I get a chocolate muffin and a latte every day,” she lied. “Jenny must have thought I forgot my order. If I don’t pick it up, she’ll know something is wrong.”
Brodeur glanced back at the barista. She wasn’t convinced but finally relented. “Go, but remember, you say anything, and I will put a bullet between her baby blues.”
Diana glared at the woman. “I hate you.”
Brodeur actually laughed. “Good.”
Turning around, she stalked over to Jenny. “Is everything alright?” the girl asked, looking at her worriedly.
Diana subtly shook her head. “Check the toilet stalls,” she whispered. Jenny nodded. Diana grabbed the bag and coffee and turned. She couldn’t risk saying anything else.
Once she got back to Brodeur’s side, the woman plucked the latte out of her hands. “Can’t have you wielding hot coffee, now can we? Someone might get burned.” To be completely honest, Diana hadn’t thought of that but, given time, she would have. Now she didn’t even have the small comfort of being able to scald someone’s lap. “Get in the car before I push you in.”
Diana obliged and found herself seated behind a man dressed in a dark suit. The driver, unlike her guard, was short. She couldn’t see much of his face, but she could see he wasn’t built like a bull. He actually looked quite frail. But he had a gun pointed at her, and his smile was just as predatory as Brodeur’s. Was there some crime school they all had to attend where they were taught to smile like that? Unlike Brodeur, though, this man didn’t look like he’d ever visited a dentist in his life. A dental plan was not part of the employment package, it would seem.
Brodeur slipped into the front passenger seat. She turned back to Diana, holding out her hand. “Phone!” she snapped.
“Excuse me?” Diana tried to play stupid.
Brodeur sighed. “Diana, give me your phone, or I’ll ask Mr. Smith here to take it from you.” She
indicated the man sitting in front of Diana, who grinned widely. Diana swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. She pulled out her phone and handed it to Brodeur. The woman turned around. “Drive.”
The man nodded and put the car into gear. They tore away from the curb with such speed, she was thrown back against her seat. After a few minutes of driving, Diana began to worry. They hadn’t blindfolded her. They were letting her see precisely where they were going. That could only mean one of two things. Either they weren’t planning on using the location they were taking her to for very long, or, the more likely scenario, they planned to kill her.
* * *
Pulling up in front of Starbucks with a squeal of tires, Peter jumped out of his car as soon as he killed the engine. He tore into the café, oblivious to the curious stares he was getting. He looked around but couldn’t see Diana.
One of the baristas hurried up to him. “Are you Detective Hopkinson?” she asked. He nodded. “I’m Jenny Masterson. I was just trying to find you,” she said, showing him her phone.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, though he dreaded her answer.
“Diana left this for you in one of the toilet stalls.” She handed him an object wrapped in toilet paper. He assumed it was the knife but barely spared it a second glance.
“Where is she?” he asked.
The girl looked worried. “She was with this other woman, and I think she was kidnapped. It looked as if she was being forced into an SUV.”
The blood drained from Peter’s face. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I tried to get her to tell me what was going on but she just told me to check the toilet stalls, which is where I found that.” She pointed to the object in Peter’s hands.
“I don’t suppose you got a license plate?”
Jenny looked stricken. “Oh God, how stupid am I? I’m so sorry, I didn’t think to look.”
Peter shook his head. “You did great. Really. Can you tell me more about the car?”
Jenny nodded quickly. “I think it was a Chevy Suburban – a black or dark blue one. It looked black. And it seemed pretty new.”
Peter’s mind was galloping ahead. He needed to get an APB put out on that car and the woman who had taken Diana. What the hell had he done? She was going to end up dead and it would all be his fault.
“Can you tell me what the woman with Ms. Hunter looked like?”
“Well, she was about 5’9” or so. She had short black hair, brown eyes. She looked athletic, like she worked out.”
Peter nodded. He took out his phone and scrolled to the photo Diana had sent. “Is this the woman?”
Jenny nodded. “Yeah, that’s her.”
“Stay there a moment. I need to talk to you some more.”
Peter turned away. He pulled out his phone. This wasn’t a call he was looking forward to making.
He scrolled to his superintendent’s number and hit the dial button. “Sir? Look, I need the tech guys to trace Diana Hunter’s phone pronto.”
“Well, why are you calling me?” Donaldson asked suspiciously.
“I need you to make it a priority. Diana Hunter’s been kidnapped and –“
“Kidnapped?”
Peter winced. “Yeah. Some woman forced her into an SUV. I’ve got a witness and a description of the vehicle. I’ve also got a photo of the woman who kidnapped her. It’s not great—”
“But it’s better than nothing. Get back here now. I’ll get the boys from tech to see if they can trace her cell, and we’ll put out an APB on the woman and the vehicle.”
Peter sighed. “Thanks, sir.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You better hope to hell we find the Hunter woman before something happens to her.” He didn’t need to say anything else. Peter turned back to Jenny.
“I need you to start at the beginning. I you need to tell me everything you saw from the moment Diana walked in to the moment she left.”
“Well, I saw Diana walk in, but she wasn’t alone, which is pretty unusual. I mean, she’s been coming here for years, but she’s almost always by herself.”
Peter nodded. “Then what happened?”
“Diana sat at a table and that woman came up and ordered two mochas. That was weird too.”
“What do you mean?”
“Diana always orders the same thing. A skinny caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso, no cream. Except for her birthday. That’s when she gets the full-fat version.”
“Keep going. What else?” Peter was trying to be patient.
Jenny shrugged. “Diana’s a regular. She comes in almost every weekday. She’s always really nice and leaves a tip. We’ve become friends, sort of.”
Peter nodded. “Go on,” he encouraged the girl.
“Yeah, anyway, it was the order that got my alarm bells going. So, I kept watch. Diana seemed really uncomfortable while they talked. She headed to the bathroom, and after a few minutes, that woman followed her. Then they came back, and Diana looked really angry. But worried too.
“I didn’t know what to do. I knew something was wrong. So, I grabbed the first completed order and a muffin and ran outside, shouting for Diana, saying she’d forgotten her usual order, which she hadn’t because she never gets a muffin. But I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”
“That was quick thinking. You did really well,” he praised the girl, urging her on.
“Yeah, well, apparently I didn’t do so well since she was still kidnapped.”
“It’s not your fault. You did much more than most people.”
Jenny gave him a grateful smile. “Anyway, I called to Diana and after the other woman said something to her, she came over, and I asked if everything was okay. That’s when she shook her head and told me to check the toilet stalls. She grabbed the coffee and the bag and went back to that woman, who pretty much pushed her into the SUV. Then they drove off like a bat out of hell. Will Diana be alright?” she asked after a moment’s hesitation.
“I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure she gets back home safely.” He meant every word, but he couldn’t promise Jenny he would find Diana. It was a promise he might not be able to keep. “Thank you, Jenny. You’ve been a lot of help.”
“Please, find her.”
He nodded. “I’ll do my best,” he said. Turning on his heel, he left the café. He paused on the sidewalk for a moment, hoping against hope that there would be some surveillance cameras around. His heart sank when he didn’t see any.
He quickly got in his car, his mind racing. How had he got in this position? His career was about to go down the proverbial toilet and that weighed heavily on him. But it was the thought of an innocent woman dying because of his stupidity that had him tied up in knots. He shouldn’t have got Diana involved. He slammed a fist against the steering wheel. To say he had handled the whole situation badly was putting it mildly.
He tore away from the curb. All he could think of was Diana’s smart mouth and how much trouble it could get her into. The people who had taken her were killers.
Ten minutes later he parked in front of the precinct and marched straight into his superintendent’s office.
“We got anything, sir?”
The older man leveled a glare at him. “This is why we don’t involve civilians in police business. They cannot protect themselves. They aren’t trained for this kind of work. What were you thinking?”
Peter knew the super’s assessment wasn’t strictly accurate but he still cringed. He knew he’d messed up. All he could do now was fix things. “I don’t know,” he admitted. He really didn’t know. She’d been so helpful, but it hadn’t been her place to get involved and he should have stopped her.
“Obviously,” Donaldson snapped. “I’ve got the boys in tech trying to track her phone. Nothing so far. Same with the APB.”
“Damn it! Hunter hasn’t got any family in town. In fact, she doesn’t have any family at all. Who are they going to contact?” he muttered.
“You’re hoping f
or a ransom call?” Donaldson looked at him with surprise in his eyes.
Peter drew his shoulders back and took a deep breath. He needed to think straight. “Yes, they’ll call. If they just wanted her dead, they could have killed her in her apartment. They could have taken her into the alley behind Starbucks and shot her there. Instead, they kidnap her in front of witnesses. So, I’m assuming they want something.”
Donaldson nodded. “Your logic is sound, I suppose.”
“I’m going to need some surveillance equipment.”
“What for?”
“I want to watch her apartment. In case someone shows up.”
“Do you think they know of her involvement in the Perez case?”
Peter nodded and told his super about the message he’d received from Diana. “Impersonating a police officer? These people are smart. Get that surveillance equipment. I’ll let you know the moment that tech has anything.”
Peter nodded. “Thanks, sir.” He turned and left. He had surveillance equipment to requisition and a Swiss Army knife to drop off with the forensics team for further testing. Maybe they’d find something useful on it. Something that would lead him to where Diana was being held.
* * *
“So, this Detective Hopkinson is your knight in shining armor, is he?” Brodeur’s saccharin tone made Diana wince.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The fact that the woman was going through Diana’s phone felt like more of a violation than being kidnapped.
“Well, he was the first person you texted when you thought you were in trouble.”
“Only because you claimed to be working with him,” Diana retorted.
Brodeur snorted. “Not the smartest move I’ve ever made, I admit. So you are more involved in the case than you let on. Of course, I knew that.”
Diana rolled her eyes. “Good for you. I’ll give you a gold star later on, when I don’t have a bulldog pointing a gun at me.” She looked at the bulldog in question who was still aiming his gun in her direction while driving the car. “No offense.”
The guy looked at her but only issued a confused “Huh?” Diana rolled her eyes. He had obviously not been hired for his intellectual capacity.
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