by Diane Capri
The elevator was slow to arrive. Lawson remained silent. He glanced, occasionally, at Hades. Hades kept his eyes moving. They could be approached from two sides and any of the five elevator cars. It was impossible to stand in one spot to monitor all angles.
He stood two paces behind Lawson. Close enough to grab Lawson around the neck, and far enough to show an attacker the gun he would jam into Lawson’s spine.
An elevator bell rang. The doors slid open. The car was empty. Hades motioned to Lawson and followed him inside where they stood opposite each other.
Hades released his gun grip and used his right forefinger to press door close. He kept his finger on the button.
“You signed?” he said.
“Everything. All done.”
“Twenty million?”
“Twenty-three million, and some. My whole life’s savings.”
Hades breathed heavily to control his boiling rage. He wanted to grab Lawson by the neck and strangle him. He wanted to beat and kick Lawson until he cried out. Then he wanted to kick him some more.
There was no way that a doctor like Lawson could amass such a fortune legitimately. He’d used some kind of scam. He must have. Only a questionable scheme that cheated a lot of others could have allowed Lawson to win so big.
Hades exhaled, relaxing his muscles. He selected the ground floor.
More than twenty-three million. Lawson had spent a long time in the winner’s circle. It was long past time for him to taste defeat.
The elevator descended.
Lawson held out the papers. “Records. For what they’re worth.”
Hades took the papers with his left hand. The remote was in his pocket.
Lawson stared at him. Shock and horror crept across his face. Wrinkles lined his brow. He leaped forward, his fist clenched, his whole body driving his punch upward at Hades’ chin.
Hades twisted, deflecting the blow. He curled a right hook at Lawson’s ribs, but the man was moving. He rushed into Hades, banging him into the wall. The hand rail smashed against Hades’ spine.
Hades brought his knee up into Lawson’s groin. Hard. Lawson doubled over.
Hades raised his fist and smashed a hammer blow down on the back of Lawson’s neck.
Lawson dropped to his knees.
Hades adjusted his fist, holding it ready.
Lawson rolled onto his side on the floor of the elevator.
Hades stepped back.
The display above the doors showed the elevator approaching the sixth floor. If Hades knocked Lawson unconscious, he’d need to carry him past the guards in the building foyer.
Too suspicious. Too much risk.
Hades relaxed his fist. He stabbed the button for the fourth floor.
The elevator slowed.
Hades wrenched Lawson to his feet and rammed the VBR in his ribs. “I don’t need you anymore, Simon.” He jabbed Lawson with the gun again. “One stupid move and you’re done.”
Lawson grunted.
Hades ground the muzzle into the soft flesh under Lawson’s arm. “So the remote is a fake. Doesn’t matter. If I don’t show up, your wife and daughter are dead anyway.”
The elevator stopped. The doors buzzed open. There was no one waiting.
Keeping his arm wrapped around Lawson’s torso to hold him upright, Hades shoved him out of the elevator and hustled for the stairs. Lawson limped and stumbled like a drunken sailor, but he didn’t fall.
The stairs were bare concrete. Every sound echoed to the top of the building. Hades shoved Lawson in front, gripped the back of his collar, and pressed the VBR into the back of his neck. “Walk.”
Progress was slow. Hades’ tension rose as they passed the fire escape door on each floor. An employee’s unfortunate decision to use the stairs would force him to take action he’d prefer not to take. No one had to die here if Hades could make it outside without further incident.
They passed the ground floor to the first parking level. Hades put the gun under his jacket and pressed it into Lawson’s side. “Use the pedestrian exit. Don’t talk to anyone.”
Lawson’s fear made him obedient. He followed a line painted on the floor to an exit ramp.
Hades sent a one-handed text to Cora. A moment later she stopped the Nissan at the curb. Lawson climbed in the rear seat. Hades followed and jammed his gun in Lawson’s gut.
Cora pulled smoothly away from the curb. “How’d it go?”
Hades smiled. “I’ve never made an easier twenty-three million.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Tuesday, May 23
Yuma National Forest, Arizona
Jess spent an hour in Wilson’s kitchen describing her ordeal to Detective Beasley. Wilson nodded and uh-huh’d all the way through. A technician took their prints and swabs for gunpowder residue. He bagged Jess’s Glock and Wilson’s Model 29. Wilson seemed unconcerned to be deprived of his gun.
Beasley made several calls on Wilson’s phone to verify Jess’s background before he sat across from her at the table with a thump.
“Your ID checks out. But…” he leaned forward. “Explain why you’re here again.”
“Karen Warner, the woman who was kidnapped two years ago, received calls from that phone.” She pointed to Fred’s antique on the wall. “The calls were made by a man living in the house across the lake, and when I went to ask him about those calls, two men tried to kill me.”
“They chased you on motorbikes.”
“Shooting at me.”
“You had stolen one of their bikes.”
“They shot first.”
“And the man with the ponytail?”
Jess sighed. “Was the man I saw burning down Melissa Green’s house in Bear Hill.”
Beasley turned to Fred. “Had you seen either of these two men before?”
Fred shook his head. “We pretty much keep to ourselves.”
“The man who used your phone?”
“I saw him plenty, but he wasn’t on the bikes.”
“Name?”
“John Smith.”
“You trying to be funny.”
“It’s what he called himself.”
Beasley cocked his head and frowned. “Could you describe this John Smith to a sketch artist?”
Fred grimaced. “Doubt it.”
“Did he have a scar?”
Fred shook his head. “That much, I’m sure of.”
“You think the guy calling himself John Smith was really Hades?” Jess said.
“Why would I think that?” Beasley said.
“Because Hades kidnapped Karen Warner and he has scars on his face.”
“He’s reputed to have a scar.”
Jess shrugged. “Have you found anything helpful at that house?”
Beasley scowled. “The house is almost empty. Looks like they were moving out. But we’re not done over there yet.”
“Who owns the house?”
“It’s a rental property.” He tilted his head. “Owner lives a couple of miles further down the road. He can’t give a good description of the renters either. Apparently, they paid in cash in an envelope in his letterbox. First of every month. Regular as clockwork.”
“Okay, I guess.” Jess nodded. “But there’s a definite link between Karen Warner, that house, and Melissa Green. The man with the ponytail. The phone calls. The fact that both sisters disappeared.”
Beasley sighed. “The Karen Warner case is closed. No prosecutor will open it up again, without far more substantial evidence.”
“But the Melissa Green case isn’t closed.” Jess heard the stubbornness in her voice.
“The Melissa Green case isn’t my jurisdiction.” He rapped his knuckles on the table before he handed her a business card and stood. “Anything more comes to mind about what happened here, let me know.”
Wilson showed Beasley out and returned to the kitchen.
Jess pushed back from the table. “I’d better be going. Sorry about your gun.”
“Yours, too.”
“You probably won’t get it back for weeks.”
Wilson shrugged. “More where that came from.”
Jess looked at him. They stood in silence a few moments before he grinned. “Can I trust you?”
“Absolutely,” she said.
“All right, new school. I think I have something that might suit you. You are a lone female, after all.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Tuesday, May 23
Yuma National Forest, Arizona
Jess waved goodbye to Fred and walked back to her Mustang. Tucked into her bag was a Ruger 9E. The clip was fully loaded. Seventeen 9mm rounds. Fred had turned out to have a broad selection of guns in a large safe. He wasn’t a survivalist, preparing for the end of the world, he just had a mechanical interest in how different guns performed. She promised to return the weapon in a few days.
She did a three-point turn and headed back down the mountain. The Mustang loved the extra assistance of gravity, and she had to keep her foot light on the accelerator to keep its speed under control.
Her phone picked up a signal as she approached the town of Death and Taxes. As she headed north, back to Santa Irene, her phone rang, and Mercer’s name appeared in the display on the dashboard. She answered the call with the car’s hands-free system.
“Captain Mercer?” she said.
“Can you talk?”
“I have two hours to talk. I’m on my way back to Santa Irene.”
“I have news. It was Melissa Green’s body in the woods. X-rays showed a broken and pinned right leg. Matches her medical records. They estimate she was killed about two years ago.”
Jess whistled. “But she used her credit card a month ago.”
“And she was seen in Bear Hill.”
“Then it must have been Karen Warner. They were identical.”
“It’s the obvious conclusion. We just lack actual proof.”
“CCTV footage?”
“Santa Irene PD are looking for it, but it’s a long shot. Most places overwrite their recordings after a week or two.”
“So, Warner is…or may be innocent.”
“There’s still a lot of assumptions, and don’t forget their driver was killed as well.”
“He was killed by Hades in the abduction.”
“And there is a good trail of evidence to show they were communicating.”
“Or Karen was.”
“Maybe.”
“But we definitely know Hades and The Devil Kings abducted Karen. If she is still alive, either they let her go, or she has become part of the gang.”
“They wouldn’t let her go. Hades is Norman Kemp. We have prints and DNA. We’d arrest him if we knew where he was.”
“Stockholm syndrome?”
“It could be lots of things. There’s just too many unknowns.”
Jess pulled into a rest stop and parked away from the main cluster of cars and trucks.
“We keep dancing around the main problem. Karen Warner was physically kidnapped by Hades and The Devil Kings. Someone at the house by the lake made calls to Karen. Someone who doesn’t like visitors. That same someone was at Melissa’s house, and Melissa was killed about two years ago, too. They’re all linked by one thing. Not Melissa, or Karen or Donald Warner, but Hades.”
“And like I said, if we knew where he was, he would have been arrested by now.”
Jess pulled Carter’s notes from her bag and flipped them open. She sorted through the pages until she found a list he had made of people associated with the case. She ran her finger down one column and stopped at a name. “But he has a brother, Benny Kemp.”
“Yeah. He’s been questioned multiple times. Given statements. Short summary, he doesn’t know anything about his brother.”
“But he’s his brother. He knows something about him. Maybe he sees him sometimes. Or gets calls? Or social media—”
“All of that has been monitored in the past. Big time. Trust me,. He doesn’t just pop out for a drink with Hades in the neighborhood bar.”
“It doesn’t have to be blatant.”
“Back when Karen was abducted, he was put under surveillance. Twenty-four hours a day. It was a pretty easy gig.”
“Meaning?”
“He’s in a wheelchair. Being a violent criminal is hard to imagine.”
Jess sighed and finished the call.
Being in a wheelchair might slow Benny Kemp down, but it didn’t rule out contact, or a knowledge of Hades’ activities. She sent Mandy a message, requesting Benny Kemp’s address.
A few moments later she got the reply, Tomorrow.
She put the Mustang in gear and headed back to The Bear Hill Hotel.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Wednesday, May 24, 6:45 a.m.
Santa Irene, Arizona
Jess awoke later than she’d meant to. Her head felt stuffy from the hot, dry air.
She staggered into the shower, and a few minutes later steam increased the humidity in the room dramatically. She sat on the bed with a towel wrapped around her and checked her email.
No update from Mandy. She sent a single question mark. Moments later Mandy replied with, working on it!
A note from Morris, equally short. Miss you. He meant that he was worried. She hadn’t called him yesterday because she preferred not to tell him what was going on here. He might have hopped on a plane. He’d done it before. Jess had spent a lot of years looking out for herself. She wasn’t ready to surrender her independence. Not yet.
Henry Morris was a good man. No, he was a great man. He had risked his life for her. She needed him and wanted him in her life. But she had a job to do, too. And she wouldn’t rely on him to take care of her.
She replied that she missed him, too, and she’d probably be home in a couple more days. Jess closed her laptop and vowed to figure out their relationship when she had more time to think about it.
She went downstairs to the breakfast buffet. She had barely eaten the day before, and she was famished. She consumed probably a thousand calories and downed three cups of coffee before returning to her room.
Her cell phone pinged when Mandy’s email arrived. Jess read it twice.
Benny Kemp’s address was on the south side of Santa Irene, twenty minutes from her hotel. Mandy had included a snippet from a newspaper funeral notice reporting Benny’s death on May 9. His funeral was May 12, the same day as the traffic pile up. When Karen Warner’s DNA was found inside the stolen van. His wife’s name was Julia Kemp, and they’d had two children.
All of which meant Jess couldn’t find out anything from Benny Kemp. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Interviewing a widow was never Jess’s favorite idea. She’d done it too many times. But it had to be done.
She checked that the Ruger was loaded and the safety engaged and headed out to her car.
Her phone rang. She recognized the number. “Captain Mercer.”
“Where are you?”
“Just leaving my hotel.”
“No easy way to say this.” He cleared his throat. “Mitch Jackson died this morning.”
Jess felt the air drain out of her. She leaned heavily against the side of her car. “Ah, damn,” she whispered.
“I’ve known him since middle school,” Mercer said, quietly. “Practically my whole life.”
“I’m very sorry.” She knew the words were of little comfort, but words were never adequate in such circumstances.
Mercer coughed. “That makes four.”
“With Melissa Green, you mean.”
“Yeah.” He coughed again. “I’m going to get him. Somehow. I’m going to make that… I’m going to make him pay.”
She heard his voice catch, and she paused a moment before she said, “Did you know his brother died? The funeral was the same day Karen Warner’s DNA was found.”
“How?” He cleared his throat.
“I don’t know. But he had a wife and—”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“I’ve read the reports. Benny Kemp was a tough customer, and his wife wasn’t much better. You’ll need a badge just to get across the threshold.” She heard his car start up. “I’ll pick you up. If she knows anything that can help us find Hades, I want to hear it firsthand.”
Jess bit her lip. “Okay.”
Eleven minutes later, Mercer’s black and white Ford cruiser raced into the hotel parking lot. He flipped open the passenger door. “Get in.”
Jess wedged herself in between the equipment and the wires. A bundle of papers slithered across the transmission tunnel. Some of the pictures she had taken in Melissa Green’s kitchen were among them. “Light reading,” he said, as he hefted them onto the rear seat.
Jess gave him Benny Kemp’s address, and Mercer tore out of the lot.
Mercer didn’t speak the whole trip, and they arrived fast.
Jess had not seen this section of Santa Irene before. The area might have been prosperous once, but now it was old and run down. Benny Kemp’s street was a line of duplexes with barely a gap between them wide enough for the driveway.
Benny’s house was in the middle of the block. It had bars on the windows, and the drapes were closed.
Mercer parked on the opposite side of the road. “Looks like she might still be in bed.”
“Better let her wake up then,” Jess replied. “No woman wants to meet strangers while she’s dressed in her pajamas.”
Mercer grunted, and they sat in silence.
Cars drove past. A few pedestrians walked by and stared at them. A silver Nissan was parked on the same side as Julia Kemp’s place, but a few doors down.
Jess avoided looking at the windows to keep her patience in check. After forty-two minutes, a light went on in the hallway.
Mercer opened his door.
Jess put her hand on his arm. “Let’s give her a few more minutes. We want her awake and cooperative.”
