Call Of The Witch

by Dana Donovan

  “No. Nothing.”

  “Damn. That can’t be good. What in the hell are these guys waiting for? Brewbaker’s got the money, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s pocket change for him.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “The Brewbakers?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Lionel’s upstairs. He went to bed about an hour ago. The poor guy was ready to pass out on his feet.”

  “Amanda?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t know. She left the house around ten o’clock last night and hasn’t come home since.”

  I looked around. “Where’s Carlos?”

  “Over there.” He pointed at a leather sofa across the room.

  “What’s he doing?”

  “Sleeping.”

  “I can see that. Why is he sleeping? I thought he was supposed to relieve you. What time did he get here?”

  “Around three.”

  “So why didn’t you go home?”

  “I couldn’t. I had too much to do. Hey, come see. I want to show you something.”

  He led me to the dining room table where he had set up a makeshift desk consisting of two laptops, a scanner and a portable printer. “Look here. I’ve been up all night working on this.” He angled the first laptop towards me. “This is Kelly’s computer.” He clicked an icon on the bottom tool bar and brought up Kelly’s Facebook account.

  “Wow,” I said, “a hundred and fifteen friends. Not exactly the loner Lionel Brewbaker makes her out to be.”

  “Hardly. Near as I can tell, most of her friends are other kids that she either goes to school with or attends dance classes, horse riding, etcetera. Except for this guy.” He clicked on the profile picture for Russell Haywood.

  “Hey, that’s her riding coach,” I said.

  “Yeah, and look at this.” He clicked on the message tab, pulling up a record of recent private messages between Kelly and Russell. “Check out the last entry from Russell. It ends with, ‘Can’t wait till Saturday.’”

  “What’s that mean? Was she going to see him Saturday?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Karina Martinez did say Kelly was wearing her riding shirt yesterday.”

  “Yeah, but did she ever make it out there?”

  “We should have gone to see him last night.”

  “Don’t kick yourself. You had a lot of irons in the fire. Besides, there’s something else you’ll want to see.” He spun the second computer toward me, waking the screen up to a mug shot of one particularly menacing-looking hombre. “This is Hector Santana, a close friend of Raul Martinez’s. I ran a vehicle check on him about an hour ago. Guess what? He owns a black van closely matching the description Brian Weismann gave us yesterday.”

  “Black? Not dark blue?”

  “A faded black paint job can look dark blue in bright sun light.”

  “You’re absolutely right. We should get––”

  “Already did. Put an APB out on Santana and sent a patrol car to his house.”

  “Nice work.”

  He hit the control/tab keys simultaneously on the keyboard and pulled up another screen. “For the record, this is Dmitry Kovalchuk’s car.”

  “It’s an SUV.”

  “Yes, but it’s dark blue. Thought I’d mention it.”

  “Yeah, okay. Listen, did you get anything from that picture the kidnappers sent us?”

  “Just this.” With an alt/tab keyboard command, he launched a photo analysis program capable of examining a picture down to the tiniest pixel. “This photo was obviously taken with a cell phone. The resolution is low, the focus is off and the lighting is poor to say the least. Still, there are some clues to be had by examining it. For instance….” He zoomed in on the floor Kelly was sitting on. “Notice the planking here. If we use Kelly’s sneakers as a sort of measuring stick, assuming she wears a child’s size three or a little smaller, I’d say these boards are about eight inches wide. That’s typical for planking used in warehouse floors.”

  “As opposed to residential applications, you mean?”

  “Correct.”

  “So she’s in a warehouse?”

  “Or a barn. Look at the specks on the floor.”

  “Yeah, is that sawdust?”

  “Possibly, or hay.”

  “You mean like in a stable.”

  “Right, except look at the wall she’s leaning against. It’s concrete block. Most of the stables around here that have wooden floors also have wooden walls.”

  “I see what you mean. You usually see block walls with cement floors.”

  “Here’s something else.” Spinelli used the mouse to bring up a close-up of Kelly’s face from head to shoulders. “What do you see there?”

  I shrugged uneasily, feeling very uncomfortable looking at an image of a little girl bound and gagged. She had tears in her eyes and bits of sawdust in her hair. “I see a child crying through duct tape to be free.”

  “Yes, but look at her face. See the dirt?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does that look natural to you?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Here. Let me get closer.” He rolled the scroll wheel on the mouse until Kelly’s face filled the screen from forehead to chin. “Now what do you see?”

  “The dirt on her face, it’s….”

  “Yes?”

  “It looks like someone put it there on purpose, like the eye-black grease that football players wear to reduce glare.”

  “Precisely. Notice the vertical lines down her forehead and chin. They’re exactly the same width as the horizontal lines on her cheeks.”

  “But why?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? Whoever kidnapped Kelly apparently cares deeply for her. They don’t want to hurt her, but they want us to believe they’re willing to hurt her if they don’t get the money.”

  “Well hell, we’re ready to give them the money. What are they waiting for? They just have to tell us where to make the drop.”

  “I don’t know,” said Spinelli, and I could see him drifting off to a place in his mind that was likely to bring him to tears again.

  “Dominic.” I nudged him hard enough to knock his hand off the mouse. “Don’t go there.”

  He blinked back to a more attentive state. “Sorry.”

  “Tell me what else you learned from the photo.”

  He shook his head. “That’s about it. There’s not much to work with.”

  I cupped my hand to his shoulder and shook it gently. “You did good work, Dominic. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Tony.”

  I leaned in close to him and said in a hush, “Now do you want to hear what I have for you?”

  He regarded me curiously. “Okay.”

  I nodded toward the living room where Carlos was still fast asleep on the sofa. “I ran into Carlos last night at Lenny’s.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Guess who he was with.”

  “Who?”

  “Lauri Shullit.”

  He pushed me away with both hands. “Get out!”

  “Shhh.” I came back to him on a whisper. “It’s true. I met her. She’s real.”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  “I saw her ID and everything.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. She’s got a New Hampshire driver’s license. She showed it to me.”

  “New Hampshire? Dang! No wonder she didn’t turn up in my search. I only queried DMV records for Massachusetts.”

  “That’ll teach you.”

  “Is she pretty?”

  “Pretty? She’s twenty years old and drop dead gorgeous. She reminds me a little of Lilith and Ursula. And get this. Carlos proposed to her last night.”

  “No!”

  “He did. I saw the ring.”

  “Why hasn’t he introduced her to us?”

  “Beats me. Maybe he’s ashamed.”

  “Ashamed of what? He’s dating a girl thirty plus years his junior. You’
d think he’d be shouting it from the hilltops.”

  “You know what I think?”

  “What?”

  “I think she’s after his money and he knows it. And he knows we’ll know it too. That’s why he didn’t want us to meet her.”

  “And that’s exactly right,” said Carlos.

  Dominic and I turned on our heels. Carlos was standing in the doorway between the living and dining rooms, his arms crossed at his chest. How long he was standing there, I didn’t know, but it was long enough.

  “That’s exactly why I didn’t want to introduce her to you,” he said. “I knew you would both think that.”

  “I didn’t think that,” said Dominic, tossing me under the bus so far I could feel the wheels grinding my bones to a pulp.

  “Carlos.” I walked up to him and tried to put my arm around his shoulder. He shrugged it off as if it were toxic.

  “Don’t Carlos me, Tony. Some friend you are.”

  “Friend is right,” I said. “You gotta know I never meant for you to hear that, but you also have to understand when a gorgeous young thing like that meets a rich older guy she––”

  “That gorgeous young thing is my fiancée, Tony. I’ll appreciate it if you refer to her as Lauri or Miss Shullit.”

  “Of course, Carlos. I only want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy. Lauri makes me happier than I’ve been in a long while.”

  “That’s good, but listen, you don’t have to run off and get married. You’ve only known each other a few months. Don’t rush into anything.”

  “We’re not rushing. We’re going to wait.”

  “Till when?”

  “Until she’s twenty-one.”

  “She’ll be twenty-one next month.”

  “Yes, and she’ll stay twenty-one for a year. Then she’ll be twenty-two.”

  “I give up. Carlos, you know I’m happy for you. I sincerely wish you and Lauri nothing but utter happiness for the rest of your lives. I mean it.”

  “Thanks, Tony. I think.”

  “Me too,” said Dominic, and he went up to shake Carlos’ hand. “It’s a wonderful thing. I can’t wait to meet her. Maybe you two can start having babies right away, and Tony and Lilith too. Then all our kids can play and grow up together. Wouldn’t that be great?”

  I pushed past the two of them with my head down and my hands in my pockets. “Yeah, great,” I said, though mostly under my breath. “Everyone wants freakin` babies now. Let’s just have a shitload of kids and start our own daycare, why don’t we.”

  As I left the room, I heard Dominic say, “What’s eating him?”

  Carlos’ answer came in a hush. I didn’t hear what he said, but Dominic’s reply was simple. “Oooh.”

  Lionel Brewbaker was just coming downstairs as I was crossing the foyer. I stopped him at the bottom and asked him where his wife was.

  “I don’t know,” he answered. Carlos and Spinelli came up behind me but kept their distance to within earshot.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? Your child’s been kidnapped, and your wife has better things to do than to stay here and help us work for her release? What’s wrong with that woman?”

  Brewbaker shook his head. “Please, Detective, I’m not trying to make excuses for her, but she and I don’t do well in each other’s company. Truth is she can hardly stand to be in the same room with me any more.”

  “Well, you know that’s just too damn bad.” I turned around and pointed at Carlos. “Call Mrs. Brewbaker. Tell her to get her ass back over here this minute.” I returned to Lionel. “And you. Tell me why your wife lied to me yesterday about when she last saw Kelly.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “She said she hadn’t seen Kelly since she dropped her off at the house last weekend. That’s a lie, because Dmitry Kovalchuk told us your wife picked Kelly up at his dance studio Thursday night.”

  “Yes, Thursday night. That’s right. Didn’t she say that?”

  “No, Mr. Brewbaker. She didn’t.”

  He put his hand up to stop me. “Okay. You’re right. She did pick Kelly up this past Thursday. I asked her to.”

  “Then why lie about it?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to know I was too drunk to pick Kelly up myself.”

  “Come again?”

  “I was drunk, Detective. I was drunk, and I passed out on a cot in my office at the Danvers store. Kelly tried calling me….” He shook his head in disgust at himself. “I didn’t wake up, so she called her mother. Amanda went and got her and brought her home. I was ashamed to tell you that, so I asked Amanda not to mention it. I didn’t see how it was all that important.”

  “Not important? Mr. Brewbaker. Someone has your daughter. Every little thing you can tell us may be important. This is no time for modesty. Your child could be dead right now. Jee-zus! What’s getting into everyone?”

  Carlos called out, “No answer on Amanda’s phone, Tony.”

  “Great. Mr. Brewbaker. Where does your wife live?”

  “She keeps a little place up on Edgewater. Here, I’ll write the address down for you.”

  I started following him to a sideboard cabinet in the foyer when a doorbell chime changed my direction. I answered the door. Detective Olson entered, carrying in a tray of coffee and donuts like the one I brought in earlier. Carlos helped himself to a coffee. I relieved her of the tray and set it on the sideboard.

  “How’d you ring the bell with your hands full like that?” I asked.

  “Magic,” she said. I almost believed her.

  “Come on.”

  “Okay, I used my elbow.”

  I smiled at her. She smiled back in that way women do sometimes when they’re not telling the truth, but they’re not exactly lying either.

  “So, any word from the kidnappers?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Dominic and Carlos have been here all night. I just arrived a little while ago.”

  “That’s strange.” She scanned the room as she spoke. “I’d have thought they’d call by now.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Where’s the phone?”

  “Hmm?”

  “The phone. Who has it?”

  “Mr. Brewbaker?” I said.

  “No.”

  I looked to Carlos. “You got it?”

  He lifted his shoulders and dropped them flat.

  “Dominic?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t have it.”

  I think all our faces went pale about then. Dominic pulled his phone out and dialed Brewbaker’s number. Seconds later, we heard a muffled ring across the room.

  “The sofa!” I said.

  The five of us ran to it. Dominic plowed his hands in between the cushions and fished out the phone. “There are three missed calls,” he said. He looked at Carlos. “You were sleeping on the phone.”

  “That explains it,” he said. “I kept dreaming that my alarm was going off.”

  “That’s not funny. Tony, he slept right through it. They tried calling, but Carlos slept––”

  “It’s okay, Dominic. I know. What’s done is done. They’ll call back.”

  Olson asked, “Did they leave a message?”

  As Dominic held the phone up to look, it rang again in his hand. “It’s them!” he said.

  I pointed at it. “Put it on speaker.”

  He did, and then handed it to Brewbaker.

  “Yes.”

  “Where were you?” asked the caller, the digital voice scrambler making him sound alien-like.

  “I fell asleep. The phone got wedged in the cushions. I didn’t hear it ring until just now when––”

  “Silence! Listen carefully. You will make the drop this morning at nine o’clock in Freedom Park. On the west end of the park by the fountain you will see a trash can. Put ten thousand dollars in a brown paper bag and drop it in the can. And remember, no police.”

  “But what if someone sees me putting the money there? Hello? Hello?” Br
ewbaker handed the phone back to Spinelli. “He hung up. What do we do now?”

  “We make the drop and get your daughter back,” I said. “Dominic? Do you still have a team standing by?”

  “Just waiting on the word.”

  “Consider this it. Get them over there early enough so that the kidnappers don’t see them coming.”

  “Roger that.” He pulled his phone out, turned his back to us and made the call.

  Brewbaker grabbed my forearm and pulled me toward him. “Detective, the caller said no police.”

  I pulled my arm free. “Of course he did. They always say that. Don’t worry. These guys are plainclothes. They’ll blend into the scenery. Now then, you have the money?”

  He gestured a nod upstairs. “In the safe.”

  “Go get it. Carlos, you have the invisible ink highlighter?”

  “I think Brit’s got it.”

  I turned to Brittany. “I’m on it,” she said, and she started upstairs after Brewbaker.

  Dominic said, “Team’s on their way.”

  “Okay. Good. You want to go upstairs and help Brit ink the money.”

  “Sure.”

  “Mark only the back lower right hand corners. And while you’re at it, jot down as many serial numbers as you can.”

  “I’m on it.”

  With the other three upstairs and out of sight, I turned back to Carlos. “You know earlier in there,” I motioned toward the dining room. “I really was out of line. I have no business judging Lauri. I don’t even know her. I’m sure if you love her then I––”

  “Wait.” He put his hand up to stop me, and I swear I thought he was going to tell me to go to hell, but he didn’t. I guess after all these years; I should know him better than that. “Tony, I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” he said. “Truth is I thought you dating Lilith was a big mistake.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, and I’d have told you, too, if I wasn’t afraid of what Lilith might have done to me. The point is we’re friends. We look out for each other. We watch each other’s backs through thick and thin. And you know I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Of course I do. But you know, to prove you’re wrong about Lauri, I’m going to do something.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll see. And when the time comes for me and her to get married, you’ll be more than happy to be my best man.”