by Diane Capri
“He claims he’s in too much pain to talk about it,” Fernandez frowned and looked down briefly as if he was thinking about Norell’s excuses seriously. “Could someone have tipped Norell off? Told him you were coming to talk to him?”
“No. We didn’t tell anyone about the link we uncovered between him and Gotting.”
“Yet Gotting’s partner does a drive-by and shoots at one of our agents.” Fernandez’s mouth worked for a couple of seconds before he remembered his manners. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be unfeeling.”
Jess shook her head. “It’s okay. You’re right. The attack on us wasn’t random. I didn’t notice the Toyota following us.”
“Understandable in the heat of the moment,” Fernandez said.
A doctor entered the room. She flashed a broad smile, probably trying to put Jess at ease. She nodded at Fernandez then stood beside the bed. “You’re very lucky. No serious injuries that we can find, aside from that large bruise. Still, I’d advise against driving or operating machinery for at least twenty-four hours. Forty-eight would be better.” She signed a wad of papers on the patient chart. “You can dress and go.”
“How’s Henry Morris?”
The doctor glanced at Fernandez. He nodded.
The doctor cleared her throat. “Agent Morris was shot twice. Nine-millimeter rounds. They passed through his left side. One bullet hit a kidney, and the other struck his intestine. But both wounds were nicks, and we’ve dealt with them.”
Jess exhaled, relief flooding through her. But the doctor wasn’t finished.
“The impact tore away a large chunk of flesh and caused internal bleeding. Loss of blood was moderate, considering. He has been conscious, but we have him sedated now.” She patted Jess’s arm and offered a reassuring smile. “He’s not out of the woods yet, but at this moment he is recovering well. He should be okay.”
Jess closed her eyes and nodded. She swallowed to clear the lump in her throat. “Can I see him?”
“He’s asleep, but sure.”
Jess nodded her thanks. “What about Zander Norell?”
The doctor pursed her lips. “I can’t give you those details. But we’re keeping him overnight as a precaution.”
“Can I talk to him?”
The doctor shook her head. “He’s denied everyone access. We have to respect that. He has a police guard and called his lawyer.”
The doctor handed a wad of papers to Jess before she left. “You’re free to go as soon as you feel up to it. And good luck to you.”
“I need to talk to Norell,” Jess said to Fernandez after the doctor left the room.
“We’re going to do that soon as his lawyer arrives.”
“No, I want to talk to him now. He has information about my son. I have to find out what he knows.”
“You’re a private citizen. I can’t tell you what to do.” Fernandez shook his head. “But that’s not a good idea, Jess. Let us do our job. We’ll find Peter.”
Jess shook her head. “I’ve waited far too long for someone else to find him. I’m his mother. It’s my job.”
He shrugged and didn’t reply.
“I’m looking for my son no matter what you say. But I’d rather do it with your help.” She paused and tried to soften her words with a gentler tone. “Look, you were too slow to provide the support you should have. You said so. Now’s your chance to make it up to me.”
Fernandez took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Questioning Norell without his lawyer is off-limits. We can’t do it, and you can’t do it without us unless Norell consents. Which he’s made clear he’s not doing.”
“It’s not the questions I care about. I need to hear his voice. I’ll know if he was the man who tried to blackmail me. And I want to see how he reacts when I ask about Peter. I’ll be able to tell if he took my son, and if he knows where Peter is now.”
“Technically, Carter Pierce is the blackmail victim.”
She scowled. “My son and I are being threatened.”
Fernandez nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll arrange for you to watch. Do you feel up to walking?”
She rolled off the bed. Her balance seemed good. She nodded. “What about Norell’s wife? She’s got to be wondering what happened.”
“She spent a while with her husband and left.”
Jess walked cautiously to the door. Apart from a headache, she seemed fine. “Then let’s pay her a visit before she gets defensive.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Tuesday, November 28
2:00 p.m.
Kansas City, Kansas
Hallman kept his hands to himself to minimize the chance of leaving fingerprints. He said little, thinking furiously while the gloved Metcalfe drove the Volkswagen and headed north out of the city.
“You have any idea how much trouble you’re in now? Gotting took Peter Kimball and handed him over to Norell.” Metcalfe shook his head as if Hallman was as dumb as a bag of rocks. “I persuaded Norell to give me the name of the lawyer who sold the kid.”
“They sold him?” Hallman frowned. That was a new piece of the puzzle, but it made sense. Gotting hadn’t abducted the kid because he wanted to be a daddy. No one who’d ever met Gotting would have assumed anything that stupid.
Metcalfe gave him a nasty glare. “What? You thought Norell kept the kid for himself? That’s why you were hiding out in his garage? Hoping to find the kid at his house? Wise up.”
Hallman held his breath waiting, but Metcalfe never mentioned Carter Pierce. Pierce was the only reason Hallman’s plan would work. Which wouldn’t happen if Metcalfe got wind of it.
Kimball made reasonable money working as a reporter, but she’d spent it all looking for her kid. She didn’t own anything worthwhile that she could pawn, either. She couldn’t raise enough cash. Kidnapping and transporting the kid across state lines would get Hallman thrown right back in prison. He wouldn’t take the chance merely for the chump change Kimball could scrape together.
Pierce’s net worth was more than half a billion dollars. His philanthropic causes were well known, as was his habit of taking care of the employees at his glitzy magazine like family. Not surprising since he was a workaholic with no family. Carter Pierce could pay millions, and he would if he was pushed hard enough. Hallman had every intention of shoving him until he paid.
Which left the question of Metcalfe, driving with a gun in his lap pointed straight into Hallman’s leg. Once he was no longer useful, Metcalfe would dispose of him.
Which meant Carter Pierce couldn’t be mentioned. Once Metcalfe knew about Pierce, Hallman would die face down in a gravel pit.
Metcalfe left the highway and worked his way through minor roads, finally stopping by a line of trees near a scrap yard where rusty old cars were piled in heaps. He drove slowly along the road and stopped near a group of newer vehicles to the scrap yard.
“You owe me, Hallman. Big time. Police had you nailed back there. Without me, you’d be in the slammer for the rest of your life. So, here’s the deal. You’re cutting me in. We’re going to find Kimball’s kid, and we’re going to make millions.” He put his gun in his jacket and cracked his knuckles. “Or I’m going to kill you with my bare hands.”
Hallman forced himself to breathe evenly as his body twitched. “Snap” Metcalfe was big enough and strong enough to follow through on his threat. He’d broken many bones before. He’d do it again.
“You want your money, and I’m trying to get it. You want to help me, I’ve got no problem with that.”
Metcalfe laughed derisively. “We’re no longer discussing a miserable fifty grand. I’ll take half.”
Hallman stared. In an instant, his three million was chopped to one point five. His plan became their plan. His work became Metcalfe’s reward. When the whole thing was over, Metcalfe would kill him and take all the money anyway.
Not a chance. Hallman nodded and held out his hand. “Deal.”
He’d work out how to deal with Metcalfe. But no way would he give this thug
half of his three million dollars. Not a chance in the world.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Tuesday, November 28
3:30 p.m.
Kansas City, Kansas
Agent Fernandez led Jess through the hospital corridors to Morris’s room. A policeman stood guard. He said, “Just a precaution.”
Jess stepped into the room. Henry lay still, breathing softly. The usual medical paraphernalia surrounded the bed. An IV machine clicked every second, pumping fluid into the back of his hand. Wires snaked under the covers.
Fernandez pointed to the IV. “They knocked him out. It’s not as bad as it seems. He needs rest.”
She squeezed Morris’s hand. He didn’t respond. “What are you doing to get the guy who did this?”
“Everything we can. We’re tracing CCTV, witnesses, forensics. We’ll find him.”
She nodded, watching Henry for any sign that he knew she was there. She saw none. She stood by his bed for a few minutes. Finally, she swallowed hard. “Let’s go talk to Mrs. Norell.”
“Ready when you are.”
She followed him to the parking lot.
Fernandez’s car was a tired, old, dark blue Ford Crown Victoria. He laughed at her surprise. “There are times when a new Cadillac doesn’t blend in. Besides, I juiced the engine and tricked out the brakes and suspension. This baby’s better than anything rolling off the production line these days.”
The inside of the car was as tired as the outside, but she crawled into the passenger seat and fastened her seatbelt.
“The police took my gun,” she said.
Fernandez offered her a mock scowl. “Are you suggesting you want a weapon?”
“When he shoots at me again, I want to have the option of shooting back.”
He nodded. “Once KCPD has a ballistics sample they should return your Glock.”
Fernandez drove from the hospital to Norell’s house without consulting the GPS. As he approached the house, he pointed at the glove box. “Put the light on the roof.”
Jess found the large domed light. “You want to arrive with flashing lights?”
He nodded. “Helps convince people we’re serious.”
She opened the window and reached for the roof. The light clamped itself to the car’s metal. “Magnetic,” she said.
He grinned. “Nothing but the best.”
A KCPD cruiser with steam trailing from its exhaust waited at the front curb in front of Norell’s house. Fernandez stopped the Crown Vic behind it.
An officer stepped out of the cruiser. Fernandez flashed his FBI identification, and the officer climbed back into his squad car.
The garage doors had been closed after Norell’s hurried departure earlier. The grass was cut and edged, the flowers had been pruned, and the leaves were mostly raked.
Lights glowed inside the house. Jess glimpsed a woman’s face peering from behind an upstairs drape.
Fernandez rang the doorbell. He kept his finger on the button longer than necessary. The door opened a few seconds later.
The woman Jess had seen twice now offered a flat smile. She glanced briefly at the Crown Vic.
“Mrs. Norell?” Fernandez said.
“Who are you?” If she recognized Jess, she didn’t act like it.
He held out his ID.
Mrs. Norell leaned forward and studied the words on his ID. “I’ve already given a statement.”
“We just need a few minutes of your time. We’re looking for a missing child.”
Norell breathed out through her teeth with a hiss. “I have nothing to say. Really.”
Fernandez gestured into the house. “Could we come in?”
Norell nodded and led them into the kitchen. A window looked out on a deck and the backyard. She sat down at a large oak kitchen table.
Fernandez sat down beside her. Jess remained standing.
“The doctors say your husband is going to be okay,” Fernandez said.
She nodded hesitantly.
“You’re worried?” Fernandez asked.
“Someone shot at my husband. Of course, I’m worried.”
Jess fought back the desire to say that someone she cared for had been shot, too. She took a deep breath. “Do you know of any reason why someone would do that?”
Norell chewed her lower lip and shook her head.
“Has he argued with anyone lately?” Jess said.
Norell shook her head again.
“Any trouble at a restaurant or at the mall?”
Norell scowled at Jess. “No.”
“Did he know the person who kidnapped him?”
“No.”
Jess said, “Agent Fernandez, do you have a photo of the man in the SUV with Mr. Norell?”
Fernandez found the photo from the CCTV on his phone and showed it to her. “Do you know this man?”
She studied the photo and handed the phone back. “No. I’ve never seen him.”
“What about your husband?”
“You’ll have to ask him,” she said, squaring her shoulders.
“We will when his lawyer arrives.”
Jess said, “That’s a little strange, isn’t it? He’s got a lawyer before he’s even been discharged from the hospital?”
“He needs one, doesn’t he? You never know what’s going to happen. And Belk’s done work for us before,” Mrs. Norell said, thrusting her chin forward.
Fernandez said, “Belk?”
“Ammerson Belk. Our lawyer. Well, my husband’s really,” she said. “Contracts, legal stuff. He’s in advertising.”
“Who does your husband work for?” Jess asked.
She shrugged. “He got into internet advertising a few years ago.”
“What does he advertise?”
“He helps startups. The food industry, mainly.”
“Ever heard of Finger Lickin’ Fried Chicken?”
Mrs. Norell nodded. “On the other side of town. We never go there, and I’m pretty sure he’s never worked with them.”
“What about Earle Gotting?” Jess asked. “Do you know him?”
Her eyes widened. “No. Was he the one who shot at my husband?”
“We don’t believe so,” Fernandez replied. “Did your husband sell a car recently?”
Mrs. Norell shook her head. “No. We bought new SUVs a couple of years ago. Traded in our previous pair.”
“Has your husband ever owned an Audi?”
“No.”
“Do you know anyone who owns a white Toyota?”
“I gave the police a list. Three people. The Hammonds, the Worlockers, and the Riveras. But I really don’t think any of them would shoot anyone, let alone Zander. We’ve known each other for years.”
“What work did your husband do before internet advertising?” Jess asked.
“Different things. Flipped houses for a few years until the recession. Then he owned a sandwich shop.” She stopped for a deep breath. “He always says you have to work for yourself if you’re going to make money. But that was years ago. I really don’t think it was anything to do with the sandwich shop. Do you?”
Jess asked, “You don’t work with him, I guess?”
She shook her head. “Zander is very particular. We agreed early on that we shouldn’t work together. Spoils a relationship, you know?”
Jess paused. “Have you had any unusual visitors lately?”
Mrs. Norell’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by unusual?”
“People you haven’t seen before, people who live a long way away. That sort of thing.”
She shook her head slowly. “No.”
“You’re sure.”
“Positive.” Norell pushed her chair backward. Her bottom lip quivered. “This has been very frightening. You always think these things happen to other people, but…”
“Yes.” Jess stood. “One last question. Does your husband have an office?”
Mrs. Norell stood. “He works from one of the bedrooms upstairs.”
“We’d li
ke to take a look,” Fernandez said.
Mrs. Norell took a deep breath. “Zander doesn’t like people in his office. He likes to keep everything organized. He doesn’t even like me to go in there. I’m sorry. No.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Tuesday, November 28
3:40 p.m.
Kansas City, Kansas
Jess and Fernandez sat in the Crown Victoria. The heater blew a good stream of warm air.
“She’s lying,” Jess said, watching the house.
Fernandez nodded. “She’s definitely had visitors she didn’t want to tell us about.”
“I don’t think it was the man who kidnapped Norell.” Jess cocked her head.
“She didn’t know who was in the SUV with him. We could try the neighbors.”
Jess nodded her agreement. “What about the Audi? Does she really not know who owns it now? Or was all that stuff about matching SUVs a bit of misdirection?”
“Hard to believe she doesn’t know what happened to the Audi. It must have been stored somewhere. I’ll run a check on rental garages.” Fernandez scribbled in a notebook.
Jess cocked her head, thinking aloud. “Why did he sell the Audi to Gotting?”
“Might have been a payoff.” Fernandez wrote in his notebook. “We’ll check Norell’s bank account. He owns his own business. Plenty of opportunity for financial creativity.”
Jess thought aloud. “So Norell is blackmailed by Gotting and kidnapped by someone else? That’s hard to believe. All of this is tied together somehow. But how does all of this relate to my son and the guy trying to blackmail me?”
Fernandez shrugged and opened his door. “Let’s try the neighbors.”
CHAPTER FORTY
Tuesday, November 28
3:50 p.m.
Kansas City, Kansas
Metcalfe hopped the fence at the scrap yard, found a car with an intact license plate, swapped it with the Volkswagen’s, and minutes later they headed back into Kansas City.
