Power

by Debra Webb

  Wow. Another confession. Too bad both the confessors screwed up so badly. First, the husband confesses, stating that he rushed away without calling for help for his beloved wife. Then Corrine confesses that she moved the chair and boa before going to see if Darcy survived her fall. Not that it wasn’t possible for folks to go completely against human nature. It was.

  The trouble was, the evidence—such as it was—didn’t back up their stories.

  “There’s just one problem with that, Corrine.”

  Fear claimed her face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You see, the boa couldn’t have been hanging here like this unless your daughter was here, too. I used a pink boa today, but the feathers found in the chandelier and in Darcy’s hand were white. There is only one white boa, and Katrina was wearing it that day for being the best. She had it on when Andrea sent her inside to get the other two girls’ boas.” Jess traced her fingers along the soft fluffy thing hanging from the chandelier. “Katrina may very well have been tossing the boa and got it hung on the chandelier. But I wonder why she would have done that knowing the others were waiting on her to return so rehearsals could begin.”

  Corrine shook her head. “She didn’t do this! I did. I did it! I pushed her. I’d had enough!”

  “Except you had already driven away. The first time Katrina called your cell phone you were already far enough away that you got the call through a cell tower that doesn’t service this area. We checked. She told you what she’d done. You turned around and rushed back. Snatched down the boa and moved the chair back where it belonged, just like you said.”

  “No… no… you’re wrong,” Dresher argued.

  “You told Katrina to tell Andrea she had found Ms. Darcy that way. Then you left again, only before you got out of that long, long driveway you called Alexander to tell him. Then you drove away and waited for the next call. Thirteen minutes later, a cell tower away from here, you got the second call from your daughter.”

  Dresher shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “That’s the thing about cell phones,” Jess explained. “They give a damned accurate log of where you’ve been and at what time. The same way we know that Alexander never left the Botanical Gardens that day. He was in shock.” There was a remote possibility he could have made it from the gardens to the house and back again, but it was highly unlikely. Jess was banking on her theory.

  “It was an accident,” Corrine insisted. “Darcy was trying to get the boa down and Katrina was trying to help her!”

  “You mean the way she was trying to help Michelle Butler when she gave her that little inconspicuous boost into oncoming traffic?”

  Chief Black and the Russian appeared at the other end of the hall. Jess had never thought about how handy a second staircase could be until now.

  “It’s true,” Alexander said, tears dampening his cheeks. “You told me what Katrina had done. Dear God, she’s just a child. When I saw on the news that the case might be ruled a homicide, I knew I had to try to protect her.”

  “Your daughter?” Jess confirmed.

  He nodded. “My daughter. The one I deserted. Darcy tried to tell me there was something wrong with Katrina but I wouldn’t listen. Darcy wanted her away from the studio and the other girls. When I refused to listen, she exiled me as well.”

  “Tell them all of it, you bastard,” Corrine roared.

  “It’s enough,” Alexander said. “We will all pay for this. Darcy has already paid the most.”

  Now Jess was confused. “She’s your daughter,” Jess said to Corrine, “and his, right?”

  Corrine shook her head. “Katrina is his and Darcy’s daughter, but Darcy didn’t want a child. I gave up everything,” she said to Alexander, “to raise your child because the woman you were obsessed with didn’t want her. I was certain one day you would come back to us but you didn’t.”

  “You were compensated well for your sacrifice.”

  She scoffed. “Oh yes. I had it all. But I didn’t have you and Katrina didn’t have her father. She needed a firm hand. I couldn’t control her once she grew old enough to go to school. I was constantly moving because of her behavior. Finally I decided to bring her back to you. Only Darcy still didn’t want her. By then she didn’t even want you. She wanted that other woman. How does that feel, Alex?”

  When the two started screaming at each other, Jess held up her hands. She had heard enough. She looked to Black, who confirmed with a nod that he was ready as well.

  “Ms. Dresher, you are under arrest,” Jess said somberly. Two counts of accessory to murder and interfering with a criminal investigation. “You have the right to remain silent.”

  Chief Black echoed the same words as he rearrested Alexander.

  By now Prescott had already separated Katrina from the other girls.

  History had always shown that the hand that rocked the cradle ruled the world. But this time it was the hand that reached out from the cradle that possessed all the power.

  In Jess’s research she had discovered that experts often disagreed about why children committed murder. Katrina Dresher’s acts of violence didn’t appear to be the result of long-term abuse. Had she experienced horrors that were yet to be discovered? Travesties that warped her young mind? Or had she merely been born evil?

  Some believed that evil was passed along in the genes, just like the penchant for stellar coordination or the lack thereof. Poor Katrina was like her biological mother. Though she had the balance, she just didn’t have the precise coordination to be the best in a field that required that attribute above all other talents. Always in the background. Always second choice when it came to dance and even to being a daughter. Her real mother hadn’t wanted her and her father had refused to choose her over his own selfish desires.

  Exposing the true face of evil in Darcy Chandler’s murder was done.

  No one had expected that face to be a child’s.

  22

  Downtown, 8:15 p.m.

  Jess didn’t care that it was hot as Hades in her car. She also didn’t care that Burnett would probably be annoyed that she hadn’t waited for him to finish with the press conference before leaving. But she was just too tired. Besides, she wanted to join Harper across town near Five Points West. He was interviewing a couple of former MS-13 members who had agreed to meet with him as long as their names were kept off the record. Officer Cook had gone with Harper. Maybe the guys who had come forward had information about Simmons or Nina.

  She frowned at the piece of paper stuck beneath the wiper on her windshield. Jess leaned forward and squinted to get a better look. A parking ticket!

  “No!” She jerked her door open and snatched up the ticket. “This is ridiculous!”

  She glanced around as if expecting to see the culprit who’d left it scurrying away. Yes, she had parked in a no-parking zone, but it had been after six when she got here. She hadn’t wanted to bother with the parking garage, and fifty news vehicles had already surrounded the BPD.

  Did they all get tickets, too?

  “Damn it!”

  Her cell clanged at her from inside the car.

  “Damn. Damn.” Harper was waiting for her. What if something had gone wrong? And here she was, wasting time stewing over a dumb parking ticket.

  She ducked inside and grabbed her phone. “Harris.”

  “Jess, it’s Wesley.”

  Bumping her head, she cursed softly as she drew out of the oven the interior of her car had become. She and Wesley had talked yesterday. He’d given her a great deal of information about the Lopez family and what she could expect from Nina and her stepbrother, Salvadore. He’d even e-mailed her a lengthy file on the history of the family and their criminal activities.

  Had he forgotten something?

  “Jess?”

  “Hey.” She cleared her throat. “I was just leaving the office.” At this hour she wasn’t going to tell him she was on her way to an interview for her current case. They’d a
rgued many times about her heavy work schedule.

  “Me, too. I hope this isn’t a bad time. I learned some interesting information about Nina Lopez and I felt you needed to know as quickly as possible.”

  Jess crumpled the ticket and threw it into her car. Her pulse rate picked up at the prospect of learning details that might help find DeShawn Simmons. “Now is fine. What’ve you got?”

  “The word I’m hearing now is that Nina—”

  Strong hands closed around her upper arms. She tried to twist away but she was jerked backward. Her phone flew from her hand and hit the pavement.

  Jess elbowed her assailant and screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Another hand closed over her mouth.

  Shit! There were two of them.

  She kicked. Elbowed. Bit at the hand covering her mouth as she was dragged backward. Her legs hit something metal. A vehicle.

  She twisted and kicked as she was dragged into the dark van.

  The door slammed.

  The vehicle lunged forward, rocking her between her two assailants.

  She struggled harder but there were two or more. Strong. Male.

  She tried to see their faces in the dim light.

  A bag went over her head.

  She kicked harder. Hands grabbed her arms and legs and held them down. Another pressed over her mouth, pinched her nose.

  She couldn’t breathe…

  23

  BPD, 8:45 p.m.

  Dan had answered the final questions thrown at him by the reporters. He and Chief Black as well as Mayor Pratt had parted ways. It was late and, as elated as everyone was to have solved the Chandler case, they were all dragging from the long day. It hadn’t helped that several of the reporters had wanted updates on the DeShawn Simmons case and Dan had nothing concrete to give them except they were working on it.

  The young man’s face was plastered all over the city with pleas for information. The reward kept growing but the number of credible leads continued to shrink. No one who knew anything was talking. The fear of repercussions from MS-13 was far too strong.

  He’d wanted to catch up with Jess but she’d already left her office and her cell went straight to voice mail. Knowing her, she was in that damned low-rent motel bathtub with a bottle of good wine by now. The two just didn’t pair well. But he’d promised not to mention that anymore.

  A smile tugged at his lips. What was he going to do with her? She was determined to kick ass and take names. The mayor and his powerful corporate and political cronies were unsettled by her tactics. Dan had to admit that he was damned unsettled with a few, like facing off with Salvadore Lopez on his home turf.

  She’d promised to give due consideration to future dangerous maneuvers before acting, but Dan wasn’t laying any wagers on her keeping that promise.

  His cell vibrated against the desk. He picked it up and checked the screen, frowning at the unfamiliar number. Didn’t the 310 area code belong to LA? “Burnett.”

  “Chief Burnett, Wesley Duvall here.”

  The muscles along Dan’s spine tightened with a new kind of tension. Why in blazes would Jess’s ex be calling him? He reached for calm. Something to do with the Simmons case probably. “Agent Duvall, what can I do for you?”

  “I was just on the phone with Jess and I’m very concerned. We were in the middle of a conversation when I heard a slapping sound as if she threw her cell against something or dropped it on the ground. Three, maybe four seconds of shuffling feet and then I heard her scream. There was another slamming sound, then squealing tires. I haven’t been able to get her back on the line. Perhaps there’s another explanation for what I heard, but I felt compelled to follow up. Do you know where she is right now?”

  The first trickles of fear seeped into Dan’s veins. “Did she mention where she was before… you lost contact with her?” He put Duvall on speaker and moved to the contacts menu on his phone. Using the office landline on his desk, he called Harper’s cell. “Hold on, Duvall. Let me check with—”

  “Harper,” echoed from the desk phone speaker.

  “Sergeant Harper, is Chief Harris with you?”

  “No, sir. She was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. I guess she got held up. I tried her cell but there’s no answer.”

  Dan’s heart rate climbed. “How long ago did you speak with her?”

  “Forty, forty-five minutes. She was on the way to her car.”

  “Contact me immediately if you hear from her,” he said to the detective.

  “Sir, is everything—”

  The office door burst open and Gina Coleman rushed inside. “Dan, you need to come outside right now.”

  “I’ll call you back,” he said to Harper.

  If Dan hadn’t known Gina as well as he did, he might suspect the reporter wanted to set him up for a little one-on-one camera time, but he did know Gina and what he saw on her face and in her eyes right now mirrored the dread building in his chest.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded.

  “Harris’s car is parked on the street.” She gestured vaguely to the wall behind him. “Driver’s side door is open and the keys are in the ignition. Her cell phone is lying on the street.” She moved forward a few more steps. She was trembling. “Her bag is in the car, Dan. She never goes anywhere without that damned bag.”

  “You hearing this, Duvall?” Dan rounded his desk and sprinted for the door.

  “Indeed. I want to hear from you when you find her, Burnett.”

  Dan wasn’t sure if he answered the man but the call ended.

  “What do I do?” Gina shouted as she hurried down the corridor after him.

  “Take me to her car.”

  As they rushed down the stairs, Dan put through another call to Harper and warned him that they had a situation. Harper would complete the interviews as quickly as possible since Jess would not want him to miss an opportunity to learn information on Simmons for anything.

  When Dan reached Jess’s Audi, Gina’s cameraman stepped aside. “I’ve been guarding her stuff with my life,” he vowed.

  “We didn’t touch anything,” Gina assured Dan.

  He stared at that damned bag of hers before carefully peeking inside. Her Glock was there. His heart crashed against his sternum. No way would she leave of her own free will without her weapon.

  He made the call to dispatch that no cop ever wanted to make. “Officer down. First Avenue and Nineteenth.”

  Dan stood in the middle of the street and turned all the way around. He spotted the nearest security camera. The mayor’d had surveillance cameras installed around the downtown area four years ago. As if some techie had picked up on his thoughts, his cell vibrated with an incoming call from ION, the security company responsible for the city’s surveillance system.

  Sixty seconds later the video of Jess being abducted by two thugs in masks and driving a generic white Dodge van streamed to his cell phone. Sirens filled the night air, providing an eerie score to the images filling the screen as officers all over the city responded to the call.

  Dan’s chest seized as he watched Jess’s futile but courageous fight to prevent those bastards from dragging her into that van.

  Gina, still standing at his side and seeing the terrifying moments captured digitally, grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. “Oh my God,” she murmured.

  Dan stared at the screen as the scene played again and again. He forced himself to focus on the details of the vehicle and the assailants. The two men were just a little taller than Jess’s five four. No way to tell their age with the masks in place. They wore black T-shirts with no discernible symbols or images and jeans and sneakers. He touched the screen and zoomed in to get a closer look at the forearm wrapped around Jess’s waist. He could just make out the tattoo.

  XIII

  His heart squeezed with the reality of what he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. These were Lopez’s goons. Ruthless killers. If the boy is still alive… it’s because they have a plan for him. Jess had sa
id that about DeShawn Simmons.

  Dan prayed they had a plan for Jess beyond executing her.

  Gina’s voice dragged his attention from the screen. She stood in a pool of light, speaking in her reporter voice to the camera.

  “If anyone has seen Deputy Chief Jess Harris, please call the number you see on your screen. Chief Harris is missing and believed to be in extreme danger. She was taken by two males driving a white Dodge van with no markings. Chief Harris risks her life each day to protect our community and now she needs our help.”

  He felt helpless even as police cruisers and unmarked cars jammed into the street from both directions.

  When detectives and uniforms had surrounded him, the fear disappeared. He was the chief of police. He couldn’t afford to be afraid. These men and women were waiting for his direction.

  Deputy Chiefs Black and Hogan were at his side and within twenty minutes search teams had been organized and grid patterns established. Crime scene techs were going over Jess’s car and personal belongings. Dan stepped aside and put in a call to Ted Allen.

  “I want a meeting with Salvadore Lopez now.”

  Allen hedged. “I’m not sure I can make that happen, Chief. We’re only just—”

  “Make it happen,” Dan ordered before stabbing the end call button.

  “Chief!” Harper cut through the crowd.

  Dan followed Harper farther away from the temporary command post that had been established on the street. Traffic in all directions around Linn Park had been diverted.

  “The word on the street is”—Harper looked around to ensure no one was paying them any mind—“that Salvadore Lopez ordered this strike. Apparently he believes we have his sister, Nina. His second in command, Jose Munoz, says they will trade Chief Harris for Nina. We have until sunrise or she dies.”