On the Hunt

by Teyla Branton

  “Don’t be. And we’re still going to find him.” I paused and added, “How’s little Riverweed?”

  Tawnia laughed, making me feel less exhausted. “Riverweed. I’ll think about it.”

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. Look, I have to go.”

  “Call if you need me.”

  “I will.” I hung up to find Shannon watching me.

  “So how exactly did you hurt your leg?” he asked. “Maybe you’d better go to the hospital.”

  “It’s wrapped,” I said, avoiding his question, “and the paramedic gave me a painkiller, so I’m fine for now.”

  His silence told me he doubted my word, and he was right. I felt weak and fragile both from my wound and from those horrifying imprints on the cuffs—and jealous at the way Kolonda was still fawning over my boyfriend. I needed a good imprint or a ton of protein to shake this feeling.

  Jake was already pushing away from his paramedics and limping toward me. “Here, take this.” He shoved something into my hand.

  “What is it?”

  “Power bar. I bummed it off one of the paramedics.” He gave me a wink and settled next to me.

  A rush of feeling made me weepy. “Thanks.”

  He leaned his head against mine and said nothing. The understanding that he was finally and truly safe flooded through my body. It so easily could have gone another way. I closed my eyes momentarily and drank in the sensation.

  Before long, I became aware of Kolonda and Shannon watching us. Was it my imagination that Shannon was fiddling with his watch? Maybe putting it on? Why would he be doing that? Actually, I could use that watch right now because as content as I was to have Jake safe, my legs felt boneless, and a single protein bar might not go far toward changing that.

  Then I remembered the drawing Tawnia had given me earlier. Smiling, I put a hand in my back pocket, working a finger underneath the protective sleeve. Love seeped slowly through my body, soothing the worst of the imprinted memories.

  Shannon’s gaze followed the movements of my hand but lifted away almost immediately. I was glad he didn’t ask.

  The paramedic who’d dressed my wound still hovered nearby, looking as though he was going to say something—probably something about having to report a gunshot wound—but I waved him to silence. “I’ll go to the hospital soon. Detective Martin will see that I do, I’m sure. Thanks for your help.”

  I stared at Shannon, daring him to contradict me, but he didn’t speak. I must have convinced him. Of course, he didn’t know I’d been shot, and I wasn’t going to enlighten him or Jake about that—not until after I figured out what had happened to Sawyer. Besides, with the imprints from my sister’s drawing, the power bar, and Jake’s presence, my leg and I were both feeling better.

  “Ian must have been working both sides,” I said, thinking it through aloud. “It’s the only thing that makes sense if the Saitos were going to all that trouble to watch him.”

  Shannon nodded. “So Ian finds out about Dennis’s past and contacts not only his family but the Saitos as well.”

  “Why not? He gives the Francos back their prodigal son and gets Russo’s business. Then he gives Saito a chance at revenge. Double the profit. Bet he has business deals with Saito as well. He was going to meet with Saito tonight.”

  “You know this from the imprint on the cuff?”

  I shivered. “From one of them.” It was a low blow, but Shannon had it coming. He should have looked out for me. You did that for your partner, even a temporary one.

  His eyes held sorrow. “You couldn’t drop the cuffs?”

  “No.” I’d been completely drawn in. Whether because I was tired or because the imprints had been so strong, I really didn’t know. It was frightening even to think about.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s over.” I shrugged. It wasn’t really. The images couldn’t be erased from my mind so easily. Better not to experience them in the first place. “Look, despite whatever deal Ian made with Saito, he obviously didn’t trust Ian, so he planted the guard.”

  “Who decided to kill him when we showed up.”

  “Yeah. Protect the boss at all costs. Pretty lousy way to do business, if you ask me.”

  “Or a good one. Ian probably would have sold out Saito.”

  I wasn’t too sure, but we’d probably never know. Jake and Kolonda were paying close attention to the conversation, but the dazed look on Kolonda’s face made me wonder if she was in shock. Apparently, the paramedics thought so, too, because one was checking her pulse. Two others were back to looking at Jake.

  “That Joben Saito tried to kill Ian means Ian must have something big on him,” Shannon said. “Something he wanted to make sure Ian didn’t implicate him in.”

  “Proof of murder?” I suggested. “Saito killed Dennis’s brother. Ian must have known that.”

  “It all happened so long ago that I doubt there’s much proof remaining. Except Dennis, whose word is questionable after his involvement in the murder of Saito’s son.”

  Goose bumps crawled over my scalp. “Kidnapping, then.” Shannon shook his head, his face growing hard. “Ian Gideon wouldn’t do that. Not to a child. If he planned to give Sawyer to Saito, he had to know they would kill him.”

  The idea of Sawyer being given to the Saitos was every bit as repulsive to me, but unless there was another player, which seemed unlikely, Ian had taken Sawyer for either Saito or Russo. If it’d been for Russo, we’d have probably heard something by now—either from Ace or some other source Shannon had employed to investigate Russo, or maybe from Dennis himself. I had no doubt Russo would have found a way to contact Dennis if he had Sawyer, if only to prevent him from talking to the police.

  So that left Saito as our most likely suspect.

  “Fact: Ian was going to meet with Saito tonight,” I said. “Fact: Sawyer was in his apartment.” I took the soldier from the pocket of my jeans, hearing Jake draw in a swift breath of air as he recognized the toy. I dropped it into Shannon’s hand before the imprint of the abduction could play all the way out.

  Our eyes met with complete understanding. “We have to find Sawyer before Saito does,” Shannon said.

  Chapter 18

  “How are we going to find him?” Jake asked, lifting an ice pack from his eye.

  Shannon opened his mouth, probably to order us all home or to the hospital, but I beat him to it. “I need to go back to Ian’s apartment. There has to be something I’m missing. Maybe I can find a clue there.”

  “I’ll have the other officers meet us,” Shannon said. “They’ll have to go over everything again now that we have this new information. Don’t touch anything until it’s cleared, okay?”

  “I’ll try to restrain myself.”

  Jake made a strangled sound of amusement.

  “Jake, shouldn’t you go to the hospital?” Kolonda looked drawn and unfocused.

  “I’m okay. I need to help find the boy.”

  Her eyes begged him, saying she needed him, pleading for him to go with her, to take her somewhere safe. Jake wouldn’t be a man if he didn’t notice, if his protective urges didn’t kick in.

  I wondered if he would fall to Kolonda’s silent pleas.

  “Maybe an officer could . . .” I trailed off, looking at Jake and then back to Kolonda. Shannon’s eyes riveted on mine, plainly understanding. If he didn’t find someone to take Kolonda, Jake would feel obligated. Not that Shannon really cared, but I knew exactly how I felt about it.

  “Good idea,” Jake said, and I felt myself relax.

  Shannon nodded. “Come with me. I’ll get you squared away.” With a last baleful look at Jake, Kolonda obeyed.

  As they moved off, Jake slid a cool, clammy hand into mine. Kolonda was right—he should go to the hospital. But he wouldn’t leave me now, not like last time, when he’d gone into a burning building and saved lives, never knowing that because he wasn’t with me, I would almost die. He’d have
to get over the guilt someday, like I had the nightmares. I didn’t hold any of it against him. Shannon had come in time.

  Shannon glanced back at me, as if aware of my thoughts. His eyes were hooded, almost navy in the dim light. I had no idea what he was thinking. Not like Jake, who was easy to read, though he hadn’t always been.

  Jake rubbed his fingers over mine. “Thanks for coming for me.”

  “You’d have done the same for me. Come on. Let’s get moving. We have to find Sawyer.”

  Ian must have stashed the boy somewhere and was planning to hand him off tonight. I had to believe that, because if Saito already had Sawyer, the game was over, and two people I cared about would mourn that little boy for the rest of their lives.

  No, I had to believe Saito didn’t have him. Not yet.

  Still, they might know where Ian was keeping him, so Sawyer was in danger even with Ian out of the picture. They could have had him followed or traced or whatever other methods criminals used.

  We caught up with Shannon near the elevators. Kolonda was nowhere in sight. “You do have someone ready to question Ian the minute he wakes, don’t you?” I asked Shannon.

  “If he wakes. We don’t know that he’ll make it. It doesn’t look good.”

  I fought down a snarl. It wasn’t Shannon’s fault. Robison—if that was really his name—had ended up being something entirely different from what we’d thought.

  What was I missing? There had to be something. Where would Ian have taken Sawyer?

  In Shannon’s police car, I made Jake sit in the front with Shannon so I could be alone with my thoughts. Jake didn’t look happy about the seating arrangements, but I knew he was glad I wasn’t near Shannon.

  Men.

  A glimpse of my face in Shannon’s rearview mirror clearly showed the new bruises from my attack that morning, but on the whole, I looked a lot better than Jake did. He caught my gaze and winked at me with his good eye. Unlike certain detectives I knew, he didn’t hold a grudge.

  We were halfway to Ian’s apartment when I remembered. “His housekeeper,” I said, leaning over the seat. “Ian has a cleaning lady. He said the soldier I found there probably belonged to her son. What if there really is a cleaning lady with a child? Who better to take care of Sawyer until he turns him over to Saito?”

  “Definitely a possibility.” Shannon glanced at me in his rearview mirror.

  “If Gideon’s building is anything like most places around here,” Jake said, “other residents might employ the same housekeeper. Often they’ll give a discount for people in the same building.”

  Shannon took the next corner a little too sharply, and when I grunted with the shards of pain moving down my leg, he flashed me an apologetic look. “I’ll have the officers question the neighbors when they get there. Question them again, I guess, since they already did that earlier when they found Paige. Can’t risk missing anything.”

  He began rattling orders into his phone, and after a few moments his voice became irritated, a tone I’d previously thought he reserved only for me. “No, I didn’t send anyone to the university. Way too late now, anyway. If they call again, tell them we’ll send someone tomorrow. We can’t be searching for a medical cadaver when we have a missing child to find.” He disconnected without saying goodbye.

  Minutes later we altered course when an officer called to give Shannon the address of a Mrs. Greta Duval, Ian’s housekeeper. It was after midnight by this time, probably closer to one, if my internal clock was working right, but we couldn’t worry about that now. If she wasn’t involved, she should be happy to help out. As a mother with a young child, she should be home at this hour.

  We were almost at the address when another call came in. “Are you sure?” Shannon barked. “I’m on my way. Wait until I get there.”

  “What is it?” I demanded.

  “They’ve located Joben Saito. I’ve had everyone watching for his people since the explosion at his warehouse today. He and a couple of goons are in a limo heading to the river north of the Hawthorne Bridge reconstruction.”

  My breath caught in my throat. I should have known. The collapse of the bridge had brought my greatest sorrow and my greatest joy: Winter’s death and the knowledge that I had a twin. The bridge was being rebuilt by none other than my engineer brother-in-law, and it would be stronger than it had been before, but I had a problem with all bridges lately. I couldn’t cross them without remembering how it felt being trapped in my car as it plunged into the cold, dark expanse of the Willamette.

  I swallowed hard and found I could breathe again. “You think he knows where Sawyer is?”

  “He seems to be in an awful hurry.”

  “Let’s go, then. Just in case.”

  Jake said nothing throughout our exchange, but I knew he was in agreement. I also knew he would protect me with his life, and I was hoping that didn’t get him killed.

  We pulled up a block from the river, where Shannon led us on foot to a place by the bank. Three other officers waited near a stone wall that bordered the area. They welcomed Shannon with relief, though they frowned at Jake and me when we appeared—all but the red-haired Peirce Elvey, who gave me a grin. Nice to see a friendly face.

  “Saito’s in the car,” said Peirce’s partner. His black skin and shaved head blended perfectly with the night. “That big Asian and that other guy are dumping something into the river. Looks heavy.” I squinted at the men with the trunk, trying to distinguish features that the overhead clouds obscured from our view. The Asian was recognizable by his bulk, but the other man could have been anyone.

  “You sure Saito’s in the car?” Shannon asked.

  “Yep. They stopped off at a construction site on the way. We have someone checking it out now and doing a trace on who owns it, but so far there’s no sign of why they were there.”

  I looked at Shannon. “You think Ian has a partner? Someone who knew about the meeting tonight and was there to finish the deal?”

  “Possibly. If so, Saito might already have whatever Ian planned to give them.” Shannon’s voice was carefully controlled.

  “Whatever’s in that trunk, it’s going in the river,” Jake added. “It’s deep here. You’ll need divers to get it back.”

  “What if Sawyer’s in—” I couldn’t finish the sentence, though it was the only reason I could think of that Saito himself would be present. He would finally exact revenge for the part Dennis had played in Saito’s son’s death. Everyone stared at the two men struggling under the weight. Either the trunk was loaded with a lot of something, or it was made of lead.

  Clouds drifted away from the moon, shedding more light on the bank, and the men with the trunk began to hurry.

  “It’s that guard,” Shannon said, at the same moment I recognized the man we knew as Robison.

  “Elvey, you’re with me,” Shannon continued. “We’re going for the big Asian and his friend. You others take the car.” His eyes fell on me and Jake. “You two stay here. Better yet, call for backup. Push redial.” He started to hand me his phone but on second thought gave it to Jake. I didn’t know whether to feel offended or grateful that he didn’t want me picking up imprints from his phone.

  The shooting started about thirty seconds after they left us, ten seconds after Jake finished talking to the precinct.

  “We have to see what’s happening,” I hissed as Jake pulled me closer to the wall.

  He nodded, and we both slowly peeked out, our eyes going first to the men with the trunk. They had dropped it and were using it for a shield as they fired at Shannon and Pierce. Peirce shot cover from a rotting structure on the bank while Shannon sprinted over the ground and leapt over the trunk onto Robison. The two rolled down the bank, struggling. The Asian continued to exchange fire with Peirce.

  Thirty yards away, car doors opened, and men fired on the other two officers. One officer fell, but he rolled and began firing again in the next second. The car’s engine revved, and with the doors still open, it barreled not a
way from the scene, but toward where Peirce was holding off the big Asian. Peirce dived to one side as the car crashed into the ruins. The unlikely move gave Peirce and his fellow officers an advantage because now they surrounded the car.

  Except no one was paying attention to the big Asian with the trunk.

  “Jake!” I gripped his sleeve. “He’s going to dump it!”

  The man, driven by whatever loyalty held him to his master, was tugging the trunk with low grunts, his muscles rippling through his long-sleeved shirt.

  Closer to the river, I saw Shannon taking a step toward the Asian, only to be tackled again by Robison.

  Jake and I shared a glance. He nodded slowly.

  I took a breath and stood.

  We ran—or hobbled, rather—along the wall several yards before vaulting over it, angling to the river’s edge. Our path took us beyond where Peirce and the others were battling it out with the car, and I could only hope Saito and his men were too busy to notice two more shadows.

  I pushed myself harder, feeling the weeds and refuse along the bank digging into the tough soles of my bare feet. I was faster than Jake, even with my hurt leg, which wasn’t saying much. It seemed to take forever to get to the water.

  My attention was solely on the trunk as I moved. I had a vision of being shot and not feeling it. Of dying so quickly that I wouldn’t have time to understand that I would never save Sawyer.

  I reached the water, but with a final grunt that echoed out over the water, the Asian lifted the trunk and heaved it in.

  Chapter 19

  I dived in after the trunk. What else could I do? Before the water covered my head, I had a faint glimpse of Shannon’s shocked face, his fist pulled back to deliver a powerful blow to the guard, and Jake slamming into the Asian. Then I was under. For a moment I panicked, feeling the icy, liquid death closing over my body. Unseen hands seemed to push me down, down, down.

  Winter had been in the water a week before they found him. My father. He wouldn’t have been on the bridge at all if he hadn’t gone antiques hunting with me.