But his phone rang less than a minute later. Abby read the display as he levered up on one elbow and reached for it.
WESTBURY POLICE DEPT.
“Hale.” Ethan held the phone a few inches from his ear so Abby could hear.
“Where are you?” Static sounded over the chief’s voice.
“Still in Atlantic City.” Ethan sat up. “Why?”
The chief raised his voice. “Derek is gone.”
Ryland let himself into his private suite. Closing the door behind him, he punched Kenneth’s number into his cell phone. The boy Abby had referred to had to be the same one that Kenneth was pursuing. Plus, Kenneth needed to find out who employed Joe Torres.
Was it Paul Medina? Was Paul angry enough over Ryland’s exit from the drug business to kill Abby as a warning to Ryland that the rest of his family could suffer the same fate unless he continued to provide distribution for Paul’s product?
He knew the answer without further consideration. Anger had nothing to do with it. Money was at stake. Huge piles of it. At one time, Ryland would have been more than willing to do anything to rake in more of it.
But he’d changed these last few years. The physical frailties that accompanied aging had humbled him. As had the knowledge that he had far more years behind him than stretched out on the road ahead.
Kenneth’s phone rang, but he didn’t pick up.
What was he doing? Fuck. Ryland should have made it clear the child wasn’t to be harmed when Kenneth called last time. Maybe Ryland hadn’t changed as much as he’d thought. He was still a selfish man, willing to let another child suffer so that Ryland’s own family could be safe.
Ryland pressed END without leaving a message. When Kenneth saw that he missed the call, he would return it. Ryland checked the time on his phone display. It would take three hours for another man to reach Kenneth’s location. By then it might be too late.
He walked to the window and stared out at the roiling sea. His internal sensors were alarming. Something was going down. Something bad. The coming storm wasn’t the biggest threat on the horizon.
“What?” The cobwebs in Ethan’s brain were swept away by the chief’s statement.
“The foster parents heard a car engine outside. They checked on all the kids. Derek was gone. There was water on the floor under his window. They think he jumped from the roof to a nearby tree and then someone picked him up on the road. Where’s Abby?”
“She’s with me.”
“Then she didn’t pick him up,” the chief said.
“No.”
Ethan’s gaze went to the window. Sheets of rain obscured the view of the ocean. “Is it raining there?”
“No. Sleeting and cold,” the chief said. “I hate to think of a kid out in this weather. We’re organizing a search, and we’ve notified county and state law enforcement.”
“Any leads on Torres or Derek’s mom?” Guilt tore into Ethan. Abby had feared Derek would run away if he was sent into foster care again. Damn it. He should have listened to her. He should have broken the rules and found a place to hide the kid.
“No,” the chief answered. “And now I have to divert manpower from the case to look for Derek.”
Ethan told him about Ryland Valentine and his relationship to Abby.
The chief swore softly. “When are you coming back?”
“We’re leaving in a couple minutes.” Ethan ended the call. Abby was already up and moving. She went into the living room and grabbed her purse. From its depths she produced a cell phone. She dialed and waited, sweeping a hand across her forehead. “He’s not answering.”
“He has your phone, right?”
“Right.”
“You have my electronic tablet in your purse. I found you by tracking it.” Ethan stood up, hope energizing his limbs. He put his gun back into its hip holster. “Even if you don’t have the app downloaded, we can try to track the phone’s location.”
“My phone doesn’t have GPS.”
And hope took a swan dive over the deep end. “What?”
“I always use cheap prepaid phones without GPS.” She held up her new cell phone.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want the wrong people to be able to track me.” She picked up the hotel phone and ordered coffee to-go. She retreated to the bathroom. Ethan heard the water running and the toilet flush. He took his turn next. When he came out, a waiter was setting a tray with travel mugs of coffee and a cardboard box on a table. He exited, closing the door behind him.
Ryland was talking to Abby in the living area. Of course, his staff would have let him know the second they called for coffee. Abby’s face was pale, her eyes too wide.
Ethan walked over to see what dear old dad was up to.
Ryland stopped talking. “This is a private matter.”
Abby shook her head. “No. If it’s important, you can tell us both. If it’s not, then we’re leaving.”
Ryland’s eyes debated. “All right. There is one more piece of information you should have. When you were kidnapped, Detective Abrams was not incompetent as you were led to believe. He was corrupt. He knew exactly where you were. He withheld that information until I paid him a hundred thousand dollars.”
Face. Palm.
Ethan should have connected those dots. “That’s where he got the money for the boat and the new car.”
“Yes.” Fury burned in Ryland eyes.
“Did you have anything to do with his death?” Ethan asked.
Ignoring Ethan’s question, Ryland turned to Abby. “I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have refused your mother when she asked me to find you. I should have done it myself, but I didn’t think it was related to me at all.”
Other than the victim was his daughter. Ethan held back the words. There was no need to emphasize Ryland’s neglect.
“What about now?” Ethan slid into his jacket.
Ryland looked away. “I’m not sure.”
That wasn’t helpful.
“We have to go.” Abby picked up her coat and purse. “Thank you for being honest.”
Ryland bowed out. “I had my staff put a box of sandwiches together. If you can’t sleep, food will be better than nothing.”
Ethan had his doubts about Ryland’s honesty. The furtive look in his eyes said he was still holding something back.
He and Abby didn’t speak until they were in his truck. The casino had cameras pretty much everywhere. He started the engine.
“Emotionally, I can’t even process all that he’s told me. I feel like the last three years have been a lie. I thought my kidnapping was random. Now I find out it might have been one of my father’s business associates. Maybe he did keep me a secret all my life to protect me. I always thought that was bullshit, but now, I don’t know.” Abby set their coffees in the center console. “I’m tired of secrets and conspiracies.”
“Are you OK?”
“I’ll deal with it all later. Right now we have to find Derek. Then get back to the search for Torres and Krista.”
“Does Derek have anywhere he feels safe?”
“Besides my house?” The irony in Abby’s question was all too clear. “No.”
“Where did he go last time?”
“The woods, but it was summer.” Abby sipped her coffee.
“He’s a smart kid.” Ethan drove out of the garage into a steady, soaking rain. “I think he’ll hole up somewhere out of the weather.”
“If he can.”
An hour later they drove across the Benjamin Franklin Bridge and went north on the Schuylkill Expressway. The rain changed to sleet, and Ethan was forced to slow the truck as patches of black ice spread across the road. At this speed, it would be morning before they got home.
The sleet intensified, mixing with snowflakes as they headed north. It was
definitely not summer, and Derek didn’t have a warm coat or boots. If the boy was outside, exposure was only a matter of time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Derek shivered in the backseat.
The tall man turned up the heat. “Where are you going, Derek?”
“Dunno. Far as I can get.” Derek shrank into the cold leather. Water dripped from his hair onto his nose. The guy knew his name. That wasn’t a good sign. He scanned the passing scenery for landmarks and recognized a billboard for a local ski hill. They were heading back toward town.
“Shitty walk in this weather.” The man turned on the defroster. “My name is Kenneth. I’m looking for the man who took your mother. I could use your help.”
“Are you with the police?”
“No.” They passed under a streetlight. In the rearview mirror, Kenneth caught Derek’s gaze. Kenneth’s eyes were flat gray, no color, no expression. Dead eyes. “You can think of me as the opposite of the police.”
A killer going after a killer? Derek tried to sort out facts, but the events of the past few days felt like pieces to different puzzles all mixed together. “What do you want with Joe?”
“His whole name is Joe Torres. Does it matter why I wish to find him?” Kenneth’s words were carefully articulated, as if English wasn’t his original language. The faint trace of a weird foreign accent gave his words an odd ring. “You want your mother back, right?”
The question felt dangerous, but so did not answering. “Yes.”
“Then we should work together.” Except being with Kenneth made Derek’s intestines want to tie themselves into knots. There was something inhuman about him. Derek’s instincts told him to run far, far away. Not that his instincts were doing him any good locked in a car doing fifty miles an hour. Kenneth had to stop the car eventually, though. The needle on the gas gauge was leaning into the red.
Derek considered the hard body that had picked him up like a newborn kitten. The guy was lean and mean in a way that didn’t suggest a membership at the local Y. Derek would need a cagey plan to get away from Kenneth. Pure speed wasn’t going to cut it. “Where are we going?”
“I’m going to be straight with you, Derek. Joe freelances as a contract killer. My boss believes he was hired to kill Miss Foster.”
Derek cringed. A hit man had been living in his house. He didn’t doubt Kenneth’s claim. That was the first real fact to snap into place. Joe had picked up his mom just so he could get close to Abby, and Derek hadn’t done a thing about it. His mom and Abby were both in danger because he’d been too afraid, too selfish, too cowardly to rat out Joe.
The car passed by the high school. His neighborhood was a couple of miles away. Before he worried about where he was going, he had to shake creepy Kenneth.
“If my boss is right, I doubt Torres is leaving with the job unfinished,” Kenneth said. “He’s hanging around here somewhere. I bet you know your neighborhood better than anybody. Are there any good places to hide?”
“Not really.” Derek wasn’t so sure Joe would stick that close. Abby hadn’t been home much. She’d been with Ethan. If Derek wanted to find her, he’d hang in the woods behind Ethan’s place. But Derek wasn’t going to explain his theory to Kenneth.
“Unless she is at the policeman’s house,” Kenneth said.
Derek’s empty stomach cramped. He and Kenneth were thinking the same thoughts, which creeped Derek out even more. They passed the Food Rite shopping center. Kenneth turned into the gas station and pulled up to a pump. On the other side of the cement island, an older guy was taking the gas nozzle out of his pickup.
Kenneth’s phone rang. He got out of the car. Pressing the phone to his ear, he locked the doors and gave Derek a pointed look through the window before going inside the convenience store.
Ethan’s farm was in the opposite direction. How many miles? Derek had only been there once. Would he even be able to find it in the dark? Whatever. Escape first, make new plan second. Derek opened the backpack at his feet. He took the phone Abby had given him out of the front pouch and slid it into his inside jacket pocket. He’d have to leave everything else behind.
Pickup guy screwed his gas cap back on and got into his truck. In the store, Kenneth was getting cash out of his wallet, his phone jammed between his shoulder and ear. Derek pried off the dome light cover and took out the lightbulb. He hit the unlock button and pulled the door lever. It didn’t open. Stupid childproof locks. Sliding over the seat, he slipped out the driver’s door, which faced away from Kenneth and toward the cement island. The engine of the pickup on the other side of the pumps turned over. In a crouch, Derek ran around the far side of the truck, climbed into the bed, and pulled a tarp over him. The sound of sleet pinging on metal covered the scrape of his clothing.
They pulled away from the gas station. Derek resisted the temptation to check to see if Kenneth was coming after him. He kept his head down and thought invisible thoughts.
“Have you found the boy?” Ryland held his breath. Rain hammered his office window and blurred his view of the tumultuous water beyond.
“Yes,” Kenneth said.
Ryland heard voices in the background. “Where are you?”
“A gas station.” Fabric rustled on Kenneth’s end of the line.
Ryland refocused. “Where is he?”
“He is with me.”
“The boy and his mother are not to be harmed,” Ryland instructed.
“Now you tell me.” Static interspersed Kenneth’s words. Either the storm or his rural location was interfering with reception.
Shit. Ryland’s heart double-tapped.
“The boy is fine,” Kenneth clarified. “But it would have been preferable to have that information earlier this evening. Things might have gone differently.”
“I agree.” A chill slid into Ryland’s belly.
“Fuck.” Wind whistled through the open line, muffling Kenneth’s exclamation.
What now? Ryland focused beyond the raindrops, on the black water and the blinking green light bobbing in the distance.
“The kid gave me the slip.” Respect colored Kenneth’s voice, then regret. “I should have expected as much. He’s no coddled child. At his age, I certainly wouldn’t have given up so easily.”
“Can you find him again?”
“Maybe. I think Derek and I have much in common, including our present goals.” A car engine started as Kenneth spoke. “I will continue to look for him.”
“Abby is on her way back to Westbury to find the boy.”
“So Abby is looking for the child, who is looking for his mother, who is with the man trying to kill Abby.” Kenneth summed up the mayhem.
“Yes. And you still have no idea who is behind the current attacks and why.”
“That is correct,” Kenneth admitted. “But rest assured. I will find out the truth.”
Ryland had a few ideas. If Abby was being targeted because of him, there were only a few people who would dare take that initiative. He ended the call with Kenneth and dialed another number.
The line rang three times before Paul Medina answered. “What can I do for you, Ryland?”
“We need to meet.”
“I agree,” Paul said. “We have unfinished business to discuss.”
They settled on a time and place. Ryland ended the call and turned back to his window. He anchored his emotions to the shifting buoy on the water and gathered his resolve. In thirty years, his daughter had asked one thing of him. He couldn’t fail her the way he had in the past. She deserved better. She was his child. Unless she wanted to continue to keep her existence a secret, he no longer saw the point. Hiding her hadn’t protected her from his enemies. Yes, it had kept Ryland’s life clean and shielded his family from living with an ugly scandal, but that was no longer enough. Of course, he’d had other reasons for keeping Abby’s paternity a sec
ret.
He would have to tell his sons and his wife. If the attempts on Abby’s life were a warning, the rest of his family could also be at risk.
Watching the water, Ryland breathed deeply. Would the boys forgive him? How would Marlene react? And when would he stop causing other people pain? He’d been a selfish man over the years. Unfortunately, everyone close to him was paying the price for his sins.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Abby stared down at the ruined sneakers and stained jacket hanging from the peg on the garage wall. “They’re Derek’s.”
Ethan turned to the homeowner, a thin man in his fifties. “What did you say was stolen, Mr. Hanes?”
“Coat, boots, gloves, and a hat. That wet stuff was left right there.” Mr. Hanes rubbed his bald head. “Boys’ size twelve. My son’s just about outgrown the boots and coat. If I hadn’t seen the clip about the missing kid, I would’ve thought maybe one of his friends borrowed the coat or he lost it. I certainly wouldn’t have bothered calling the police.”
“We appreciate that you did, Mr. Hanes.” Ethan put Derek’s jacket and shoes in a paper bag. “Did you want to press charges?”
“Hell no.” Mr. Hanes hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. “I wish I’d seen the kid. I would’ve brought him in and fed him. I hate to think of him out in this storm.”
“Us too,” Ethan agreed. “Any idea how he got in?”
“I got home late from a job in Philly. All I can think is he followed my truck into the garage last night, helped himself to the gear, and went out the side door. He must have been gone before daybreak. I didn’t see him when I came out to get my wallet this morning. There really isn’t anywhere to hide in here. If only I’d noticed the missing coat then. Maybe you could’ve found him.”
“Thank you for calling us, Mr. Hanes.” Ethan shook his hand.
Abby and Ethan left the garage through the overhead door. The afternoon light was dimming as they walked down the driveway. They climbed into Ethan’s truck parked at the curb. The sandwich Ethan had forced her to eat for lunch balled up inside her stomach.
She Can Hide (She Can Series) Page 23
