“Thanks for this.” She sipped the coffee, debating how to answer his unspoken question. If she should even answer.
He looked pointedly at his watch, as if to emphasize that it was barely seven a.m. On a Saturday, no less. “You look like you hardly slept.”
She worked up a smile. “Is that your diplomatic way of saying I look half dead?”
“No, but you do look like you could have used another hour or two of sleep.” He crossed to his desk and booted up the computer.
“An hour or two would be an improvement over last night.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Admitting as much would be to admit that Trane had gotten under her skin. “I bet his victims aren’t sleeping well. We need to find them.”
Something told her she wasn’t fooling him. Not one bit.
But he didn’t push it. Instead, he turned to log into his computer. “Then let’s find them. What have you learned so far?”
“Other than the house we were at last night and his business, no property is registered in his name. Or his father’s. I was about to check his mother’s name.”
“It’ll be something by water.” Dak looked up from his computer screen. “Between that boat last night and the water themed dumpsites, I’m sure his hideout is on the water somewhere.”
Didn’t exactly narrow it down. There were too many miles of coastline in and around the city.
“I’m going to check properties under Verna’s name.”
Dak’s announcement pulled her attention from the screen in front of her. “You think he’d put something under his secretary’s name?”
“Executive assistant.” He offered a cheeky grin. “And yes, I think it’s possible. The way she talked about him, well, it sounded almost a little maternal. I have a feeling that she was around more than his father after his mom died.”
It couldn’t hurt to check. “It would be harder to trace if he put it under her name.”
“Exactly. I don’t see her being involved, but he could easily have put a property in her name.”
There was only one way to find out. “I’ll race you. First one with results wins.”
He arched an eyebrow. “And the loser buys lunch. You’re on!”
₪ ₪ ₪
“Now this is interesting.” Dak skimmed the property record on the screen in front of him for the third time.
Yes, it said what he thought it said.
“Verna did have a property registered in her name. Up until about three months ago, when ownership transferred to Ebony Bledsoe.”
Kevyn looked at him blankly. “Should I know that name?”
“No.” He hadn’t heard it before either. “But the timing seems… convenient, don’t you think? Plus, the property is an old warehouse. On the waterfront. About five miles north of Trane’s business.”
Kevyn leaned back in her chair. “Why would Verna own an old warehouse?”
“My question exactly.” He picked up his desk phone and punched in Sid’s extension. The rest of the team had slowly trickled in over the last fifteen minutes.
Sid answered on the second ring.
“Hey, man. I’d like you and Felicia to go question Verna.” He filled Sid in on the warehouse property.
“On it.”
Kevyn waved at him. “I’d like to go.”
“Hey Sid, hold up. I’m sending Kevyn with you instead. Felicia can keep going on Trane’s financials. Be ready to leave in five minutes, okay?”
As he hung up, he found Kevyn watching him. “Thanks. I’d like to get a read on Verna to see if she’s involved. What else do you know about the warehouse?”
Good thing he’d done a little digging before sharing his discovery.
“Verna purchased it.” Supposedly, although he wasn’t buying that. “Six months ago.”
“Right around the time Trane Sr. died.”
He nodded. “Cash, no mortgage. Seems unlikely to me that she’d have that kind of money lying around, don’t you think?”
“What was the purchase price?”
“Picked up at auction for half a million. The warehouse had been empty for seven years and was in pretty rough shape. According to property records, Verna purchased it at the online auction, then transferred ownership to this Ebony person three months ago.”
“I did a quick search for Ebony Bledsoe. No outstanding warrants or criminal record, although a missing persons report did pop up. Endangered runaway. Went missing from Ogden, Utah almost five years ago when she was fifteen.”
Ogden? “That’s a considerable distance from here.”
“It is. There are no reports of any sightings of her since. Yet now she pops up as the proud owner of a defunct warehouse?”
Sounded fishy. Where had she been all those years? And how had she gotten mixed up with Trane, assuming Trane was the actual owner of the warehouse?
“I’m thinking human trafficking.” Kevyn’s words answered the question he hadn’t asked. “Maybe Trane ran into her there and got her out.”
“Not an easy thing to do.”
“No. But it can be done. Especially if someone is smart.”
And there was no doubt in his mind that Trane was smart. Smart enough to be their unsub.
“Where is Trane? Did he ever return to his house?” Kevyn’s question broke through his thoughts.
“According to the last communication I got from our team on the ground, yes. They didn’t hear or see him come home but they saw him this morning, having coffee on his front porch.”
Kevyn’s eyebrows rose. “In this cold?”
“Almost like he wanted to be seen, huh?”
Kevyn gave a faint shrug. “Good way to make us think we’re wasting our time.”
Too bad for Trane, because he wasn’t falling for the ruse.
They were close. He could feel it.
He only hoped they weren’t already too late to save the victims, because if Trane felt the noose tightening, he might cut his losses and run.
₪ ₪ ₪
Jax stopped in front of the window and stared out.
Yep. Still there.
He’d left all his curtains open and tried to cross in front of the windows often. Anything to show the FBI he was here, in his house, and that they were wasting their time.
How long would they hound him?
Of bigger concern, what were the other agents doing right now?
Digging into his personal life, no doubt. But was there anything that could implicate him?
Maybe. He’d tried to be careful, but there was no hiding his financials, which had been all over the board since his father died.
He really needed to get rid of the evidence. All the evidence.
Including the warehouse.
He didn’t think they’d track it through Verna, but his prints were all over the place. And if they saw those cells… oh boy.
He’d be toast.
It was stone. It wouldn’t burn. Short of an explosion or a wrecking ball, how could he get rid of it?
Maybe he could stage a gas explosion.
That might work. Ebony could collect the insurance money, so he really wouldn’t be out much financially.
First though, he had to get rid of the people he no longer thought of as family.
Why had he never thought to keep a car there?
With the FBI watching him, he couldn’t drive his car there and without his car, he couldn’t dispose of the bodies. What were the chances he could lose the FBI tail?
If he left now, went to one of the downtown parking garages with multiple exits, maybe he could shake them.
Or maybe one of the malls. One with a parking garage would be best, as he could try to lose them in between floors.
Worth a try.
Worst case scenario, he’d go inside, pretend to shop, and call a cab to pick him up.
He could always rent a car, although that would look suspicious when the FBI found out.
So wha
t? They couldn’t prove he’d done anything other than ditch the FBI tail and rent a car. Neither of which was illegal.
He sighed, exhaling the tension. He had a plan, one that might work.
Now he needed to wait for the cover of darkness. Then he could implement his plan. It’d be easier to lose the FBI tail in the dark anyway.
This ended today. One way or another.
₪ ₪ ₪
Verna’s condo, located in a quiet fifty-five plus community, sported new siding, a two-person porch swing, and a meticulous flowerbed.
Kevyn led the way up the paved sidewalk and pushed the button for the doorbell.
Chimes echoed inside.
Movement behind the frosted glass evidenced Verna’s presence, but the door didn’t open. “Verna? It’s Agents Taylor and McInnis, FBI. We’d like to discuss a warehouse you purchased six months ago.”
A second passed before the deadbolt clicked.
She’d thought that tidbit might get Verna’s attention.
Verna shifted her attention between Kevyn and Sid. “I didn’t purchase a warehouse.”
“Verna? Who is it?” A gravelly voice came from somewhere inside the house.
“It’s the FBI.”
A silver-haired man carrying thirty extra pounds in his gut appeared behind Verna, a weathered hand landing on her shoulder as his light eyes narrowed on Kevyn and Sid. “What’s this about?”
“It’s okay, honey.” Verna patted his hand, then motioned for Kevyn and Sid to follow her. “Come in and have a seat.”
Verna settled on the sofa, the silver-haired man sitting beside her. Kevyn and Sid took chairs opposite them. After Verna introduced the man as her husband Mike, she focused sharp eyes on Kevyn and Sid. “What’s this about a warehouse?”
Sid opened the file folder he’d brought with them and passed across the property records. “A warehouse was purchased under your name back in May.”
Verna skimmed the documents, her eyes widening as she did. “I didn’t purchase this. There must be some kind of mistake.”
“Why would someone purchase real estate in your name?”
She slid her gaze to Sid. “I couldn’t tell you. Surely there’s video that shows it wasn’t me.”
“It was purchased at an online auction.”
Lines creased Verna’s forehead. “Is the warehouse being used for something illegal?”
“We’re not sure at this point.” Sid rested his elbows on his knees. “Do you have any idea who might have done this?”
“No. It doesn’t make any sense.” Verna rubbed her forehead. “What does this mean? To me? Am I liable?”
“No.” Sid pulled out another piece of paper. “Actually, the property was transferred to one Ebony Bledsoe three months ago.”
A blank look covered Verna’s face. “Who?”
“Ebony Bledsoe.” Sid said the name slowly. “Does that name mean anything to you?”
“No. Who is she?”
“A runaway from Utah.” Kevyn entered the conversation for the first time. “We think she’s also J.J. Trane’s girlfriend.”
Verna looked thoughtful. “J.J. hasn’t told me much about her. I’ve asked, naturally, but he’s always pretty close-lipped about the whole thing. I thought he was embarrassed by the age difference. I don’t know how old she is, but she looks fairly young.”
“She’s twenty.”
Verna nodded. “That’s about what I thought. But that doesn’t explain why the warehouse was ever in my name.”
“We think J.J. purchased it after his father’s death and listed it under your name so it couldn’t be traced back to him.”
Verna’s eyebrows drew in. “Why would he do that?”
“So he would have a place to take the people he planned to kidnap.”
Silence descended with a palpable weight.
A second later, Verna laughed. “Kidnap? J.J.? That’s preposterous.”
“Is it? Can you honestly tell me he hasn’t been acting strangely since his father’s death?” She was going out on a limb here, but something told her Verna had noticed a difference in J.J. in the last few months.
“He lost his father. Of course he’s been different.” Verna shook her head. “But kidnapping people? I can’t imagine him doing that. He’s lonely, but he’s a good boy.”
Lonely. Could he be searching for some kind of companionship? Triggered by the loss of his father, his only family member?
“Do docks have any particular importance to him?”
“No, not that…” Verna blinked. “Wait. Maybe. When he was a little boy, his mother used to sit on the dock with him while J.J.’s father worked. They’d sit out there for hours on nice days. She’d sing to him and read him books. They’d look for wildlife and watch the ships pass by. Those were probably some of the best days of his childhood.”
Until his mother had taken her own life.
Kevyn weighed Verna. The lady seemed to genuinely think Trane was innocent.
But often the people closest to the unsubs were the most surprised by their crimes.
If J.J. Trane felt like his mother had abandoned him when she committed suicide, he might now have a negative association with docks. Maybe enough to leave his victims there after he’d killed them.
Twenty-Three
Kevyn fixed the binoculars on the small second floor window.
It was faint, but she could definitely see light coming from inside.
The windows above the second floor were dark, as were those on the ground level, but there was light on the second floor.
There was no good reason for an abandoned warehouse to have lights on. Especially not at five p.m. on a Saturday night.
Was Ava inside? And Oliver and Wendy?
She’d spent so much time studying them that she almost felt like she knew them.
Right now, she wanted nothing more than to help them return home.
“You ready for this?”
She started at the voice beside her and turned to find Dak’s brother Caiden, decked out in full SWAT gear, beside her. Pete towered beside him, a Colt M4 Carbine cradled against his arm.
“Absolutely.” Her gaze flicked between the two of them. “So, your unit got called out on this one, huh?”
Pete nodded. “Our thermal cameras picked up four heat signatures on the second floor.”
Four. Their three victims and… Trane? Or Ebony Bledsoe? Assuming their suspicions were correct and she was involved, she was the more likely option.
Dak slid his phone into his pocket and waved for everyone to gather in. “Surveillance lost Trane.”
What? “How did that happen?”
They were supposed to be professionals. How did two of their agents lose a suspect?
“He went into a mall. One agent stayed with the vehicle, another followed him. He shopped for a few minutes, then went out a door on the opposite side of the mall from where he’d parked his car and got into a private vehicle.”
Their suspect was in the wind.
Maybe coming toward them.
Kevyn looked around at the six SWAT officers, Sid, Felicia, and JD before resting her attention back on Dak.
“What now?” JD asked the question surely on everyone’s mind.
If they raided the warehouse now and Trane showed up, he’d see them and run. They might not ever catch him.
But waiting might not do anything but waste their time. They had no idea if Trane was even coming here, much less when he might arrive.
Dak glanced around briefly. “Let’s pull back. We’ll wait to see if Trane shows up.”
“Wait?” Caiden’s question hung in the air. “How long do you expect us to sit here?”
Dak looked at his watch. “The mall where they lost him is only about twenty minutes from here. Let’s give him an hour. If he hasn’t shown up by six-thirty, we’ll move in.”
She could feel the dissatisfaction among the SWAT officers at Dak’s answer.
And no wonder. They w
ere in full tactical gear, ready to roll now.
After a second’s hesitation, Pete, who seemed to be in charge of the SWAT team, nodded. “Roger that. Everyone back to the van. Caiden, pull it around the corner so it’s out of sight. We don’t want to tip this guy off.”
₪ ₪ ₪
Jax approached the warehouse slowly, the rented black Suburban blending into the night.
Had the FBI come here?
He looked around, his eyes roving the cracked and weed-strewn parking lot in front of the building.
Empty.
As were the surrounding streets.
The alarms hadn’t gone off, so no one had entered the building.
Maybe they hadn’t discovered this place. Or maybe he’d at least beat them here.
Either way, he had to work fast. Something told him he didn’t have a lot of time.
He parked outside the loading bay door and hurried to the main entrance to the right of the door.
The knob felt icy under his fingers, which slipped on the moist metal surface.
Come on! He didn’t have time for this!
He unlocked the door and slipped inside, re-engaging the deadbolt behind him. Punching in a code, he deactivated the external alarms before they could go off.
The last thing he needed was an announcement to the surrounding world that he was here.
He jogged toward the roll-up bay door, slid the bolts that locked the door, then pushed the button on the wall.
The motor roared to life, the metal door banging and clanging as it rolled up.
Dang! He didn’t remember it ever being this loud before.
Ducking under the still-rising door, he climbed behind the wheel and pulled the Suburban inside.
He killed the engine and ran back to the bay door controls.
It felt like hundreds of eyes were on him. He jabbed at the button.
The door whirred, chugging down.
Hurry up, hurry up!
Finally, the rubber base bumped against the concrete floor. The motor went silent.
He slammed the bolt into place, securing the bay door. The noise thundered in the warehouse.
Silence descended like the night.
He’d made it.
Nameless (Sinister Secrets Book 1) Page 27
