by David Archer
Her smile vanished a second later when the girls held out their IDs, flipping them over to show the DHS endorsement. “We would like to speak to Mr. Burkart,” Jade said. “It’s on a matter that could involve national security.”
“Of course,” the girl stammered. She picked up a phone on her desk and pressed a button, then whispered into it. “Mr. Burkart, there are a couple of federal agents here to see you. They said it’s very important.”
She listened for a moment, then put the phone down. “He says he’ll be happy to see you,” she said nervously. “If you will go through this door,” she pointed to a door on her right, “he should be waiting outside his office door for you.”
Jade gave her a smile. “Thank you,” she said. She followed Summer through the door, and they spotted a tall, heavyset man in a polo shirt just a short distance down the hall. They both showed their IDs again when they got close enough.
“I’m John Burkart,” the man said. “Please, step into my office.” He held out an arm to indicate that they should precede him, then followed and closed the door. He waited until they had seated themselves in the chairs in front of his desk before taking his own chair. “Now, what can I do for Uncle Sam?”
“Mr. Burkart,” Jade said, “we’re investigating a situation that is rather sensitive. Please understand that we can’t give you details, but we need to ask you some very important questions.”
Burkart seemed to consider what she had said for a few seconds, then nodded. “Okay, I get that. What can I help you with?”
“A couple of things,” Summer said, adjusting her position and crossing her legs. Her short dress rode up a bit, and Burkart couldn’t stop his eyes from noticing. “First, who would have access to your remote security systems? By that, I mean who would be able to disable a security system in one of your clients’ locations, so that doors and windows being opened would not be recorded?”
Burkart’s eyes went back to her own and widened slightly. “Well, our dispatcher can do that,” he said. “Whoever is on duty has access to that system. Of course, all of our people are carefully checked out, so I can’t imagine any of them ever doing it unless it was necessary.”
“And what kind of situation would make it necessary?” Summer asked.
“Well,” Burkart said, “for example, if one of the clients called in and needed it shut down while some work was being done on the place, that would be one reason. Another might be if one of our patrol officers needed to enter the building, to check out a suspicious light or something. He could have the dispatcher shut it down for a few minutes, just to be sure he didn’t set off any alarms.” He grinned sheepishly. “We had that happen once last year, and our patrolman came out of the building to find the several police officers aiming their guns at him. Since then, we always shut the system down when one of them has to enter.”
“I can certainly see why,” Jade said. “And do you keep a record of when those systems are shut down?”
“Oh, certainly,” Burkart said. “We have to, just like any other record from an alarm system. All of our systems, activities are recorded on a main server. Is there a particular incident you’re concerned about?”
“Possibly,” Summer said. “Another question: have any of your people not shown up for work lately? In the past few days, I mean?”
Burkart’s eyes narrowed. “Well, yes,” he said. “Scott Taylor. He’s one of our night patrol officers, but he didn’t show up last night, and we haven’t been able to reach him today. Does this have something to do with him?”
“We don’t know yet,” Jade said. “Can you tell me if there was a specific area that Mr. Taylor worked in?”
“North Atlanta,” Burkart said. “Pretty much anything north of downtown, including Buckhead, Peachtree Park, Garden Hills. We keep five officers patrolling during the day, and twelve of them at night. Any of them can respond fairly quickly to where they’re needed within that region.”
Summer and Jade looked at each other, then turned back to Burkart. “Can you tell me whether Mr. Taylor asked for any alarm systems to be shut down early yesterday morning?”
Burkart turned to a computer on his desk and typed for several seconds, then his eyebrows went upward. “Actually, he did,” he said. He swallowed nervously. “He requested a shutdown at a residential client location. He said that the client had said he was going to be out of town for a couple of weeks, but there was activity inside the house. He went inside and checked it out, then reported back forty-five minutes later that the client had simply left a television and some lights on. He said he left them alone, that he figured it was probably something deliberate to keep people from knowing the house was empty.”
“We’re going to need everything you’ve got on Scott Taylor,” Summer said. “Can you print out his personnel file for us? We need telephone number, address, photos, everything.”
Burkart nodded, suddenly very interested in being as cooperative as possible. He had seen the house Taylor had entered, and while he knew nothing about the abduction, just the thought of Roland McCabe suing him was terrifying.
“Certainly, certainly,” he said. He typed for a few more seconds, and then a printer on the credenza came to life. “It’s strange that he would disappear like this,” he said. “Scott was only with us for a few months, but he was one of our best. He was an Atlanta city police officer for five years, but he was injured in the line of duty and forced out. He got his medical retirement from the police force, but he said sitting around was just too boring. That’s why he came to us and asked for a job.”
He gathered up the papers that had come from the printer and slipped them into a file folder, then handed them to Summer. She glanced through them, then frowned. “According to this, Mr. Taylor is five foot seven and weighs nearly two hundred and sixty pounds. Is that correct?”
Burkart blinked. “Well, yes,” he said. “I’ve known him for a few years, he was a star defensive lineman on the high school football team about ten years ago. Nobody got past him, because he knew how to use all that weight and power.”
Jade was looking over Summer’s shoulder, but then she looked up at Burkart. “Where is the patrol car he normally drives?”
“Well, it’s out on patrol,” Burkart said. “We only have so many cars, so they stay busy.”
“I think we need to see it,” Summer said without looking up. “Can you have it come in, like, now?”
Burkart stared at her for five seconds, then picked up the phone. “Ashley? Who’s driving car six today? Well, tell him to bring it back to the office, right now. We’ll meet him in the service lot.” He hung up the phone and got to his feet. “Frank Jenkins has the car, and he’s only a couple blocks away. They’re having him bring it in now. If you ladies would follow me?”
They got to their feet and Burkart led them through the building and out the back door. There were several patrol cars sitting around, some of them obviously being serviced, but then another one pulled in a moment later. The driver brought it right up to where Burkart and the girls were standing, then parked and got out.
“Mr. Burkart? Is something wrong?”
“Dunno yet, Frank,” Burkart said. “These ladies are federal agents, and they need to look at the car.”
The two men stepped aside as Jade and Summer walked up to the car. Jade opened the back doors and looked inside while Summer reached in and took the keys. She walked around toward the back of the car and opened its trunk, then suddenly stepped back and put the back of her hand to her nose.
“Found something,” Jade said. She came out of the car holding strands of hair. “Blonde hairs…”
The look on Summer’s face cut her off, and she carefully stepped toward the back of the car. A glance into the trunk confirmed what she had suspected she was going to find.
She turned and motioned for Burkart to come closer. “I think we know why Mr. Taylor didn’t report for duty last night,” she said. “He’s been riding around in the trunk.”
Burkart gasped when he saw Scott Taylor’s body. His head was split open from the back, and the drying blood, along with the smell, said he had been dead for well over twenty-four hours.
* * * * *
It was nearly two hours before the girls returned, and the rest of the team had gathered up in Sam’s room once again.
“Well, the security company wasn’t directly involved,” Summer said as they entered. “Our kidnapper is also a murderer. The patrol officer who was on duty night before last had his head bashed in and was stuffed into his own trunk. That gave the kidnapper his keys and his radio, which allowed him to tell the dispatcher to turn off the security system in the house. This guy was so cocky, Sam, he actually dropped off the car at the security company’s parking lot when he was done with it.”
“He’s cocky, all right,” Jade said. “Of course, we had to stick around until the police were called to explain why we wanted to look into the car. We cited national security as the reason we couldn’t give more information, and Summer threatened to do some terrible things to Burkart if he even mentioned the killer’s possible involvement with the McCabes. He’d seen what house it was that the system was turned off in, and he’s terrified McCabe is going to sue him over this.”
“Well, that explains how the kidnapper got in,” Sam said. “He would’ve had Taylor’s keys, and he was undoubtedly the same man who posed as the insurance examiner a couple days earlier, as well, so he knew his way through the house. Using the attic window gave him a way to avoid the creaky board.” He sighed. “Hopefully, Mr. Reese will be able to give us some idea of how to find this man. With the murder involved, this case just became a lot more sinister.”
They went to their rooms and gathered their bags, then Sam and Indie went downstairs to check them all out. When they were finished, they went into the restaurant and found everyone else already waiting for them there, including Wendy and Harvey, who was sitting beside Summer.
“You guys managed to sneak past us,” Indie said. “What looks good on the menu?”
“Everything,” Walter said.
“They have glazed rotisserie chicken with vegetables, that’s what I’m going for,” Denny said, pointing at a hand-lettered sign behind the counter. Rob and his men arrived just then, but they pushed a couple of tables together for themselves.
“I’m with you,” Indie said. “Chicken for me. Oh, look, they got Coke!”
“We’ve all decided on the chicken,” Steve said, grinning at Sam. “Are you gonna be the odd man out?”
“Not me, chicken sounds great.” He looked around. “Do we have a waitress?”
“Waiter,” Steve said. “He’ll be back in a minute.”
“He could hurry,” Sam grumbled. Almost as if he’d been overheard, a waiter appeared and approached the table. The orders were taken, and they were surprised at how quickly the food arrived.
“Talk about fast food,” Denny said. “They must keep this ready all the time. And did any of you know we were each getting a whole chicken? I figured it would be, you know, just a couple of pieces or something.”
“You’re complaining?” Indie asked. “You forget, Denny, we’ve all seen how you eat. Besides, these chickens are pretty small.”
“Complaining? I’m not complaining, luv. Cor, if any of you can’t finish your chicken, just let me know. And I don’t know what these caramelized vegetables are, but they are delicious.”
“Those are called mushrooms and onions, Denny,” Walter said. Everyone stared at him for a moment, trying to decide if he was making a joke or simply being informative. Walter ignored them.
They ate casually, without rushing, and were finished just under an hour later. They had all brought their bags down, so they left the hotel and headed for the airport. It took a few minutes to turn in the rental cars, and then they made their way toward the charter area.
Rob Feinstein and his men boarded the plane first, taking up most of the seats toward the rear of the craft. That left the front end for Sam and his team, and they settled in quickly.
The flight was easy, the seats comfortable. Steve and Jade decided to take naps, but Darren, Walter, Denny, Indie and Sam were awake. Summer was sitting with Wendy and Harvey, the three of them talking quietly among themselves. Walter sat by himself, studying something on a tablet. Indie’s seat faced backward, just in front of Sam’s, while Denny was in the seat across the aisle from the one Sam occupied. It made it easy for the three of them to talk.
“So, is there any particular plan when we get to Ithaca?” Denny asked.
“I’ll have to improvise a bit, but the basic plan is simple. We’re going to go and visit Mr. Reese and do our best to convince him to tell us everything he possibly can. I'll leave it up to Rob to make sure he doesn’t tip anybody off afterward.”
“And if he doesn’t talk, or doesn’t really know anything?” Indie asked. “What then?”
Sam shrugged. “We're going to be no worse off than we already are, I guess. We just need to find a lead, and right now he’s the closest thing we’ve got.”
“Sounds wonderful,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Think there’s any chance the girl is actually in Ithaca with him, somewhere?”
“I doubt it. Denny agrees with me, this is going way too easy. I feel like we were supposed to find Reese, like we’re being set up, somehow. I want all of you on your toes, watching everything you possibly can. Something about this just doesn’t feel right.”
“It’s like some sort of children’s game,” Denny said. “We are feeling around in the darkness for the players, but one of them is making noises to attract our attention. That’s how you keep anyone from finding the one they really want.”
Sam nodded. “Yes, that’s what I’m trying to say. It’s like Reese is the sacrificial pawn in a chess game, stuck out there in front where he’s bound to be captured, but clearing the way for the rook or bishop or queen to do something more serious. The question is, who are the other players?”
“Bad thing about a pawn,” Denny said, “is that he’s really nothing but a foot soldier, somebody who doesn’t know any answers. That way, he can’t give away the plan if he happens to get captured. If Reese doesn’t know who the real people behind it are, then this could be a wasted trip.”
“I don’t think so,” Sam said. “There’s a reason why that pawn was advanced, and whoever he was fronting for will be watching him. We’ve got to talk to him, and I’m going to try to get any information out of him that I can, but the real reason for this trip is to find out whether he really had anything to do with the abduction or not.”
Indie moaned. “That could take days.”
Sam looked at her. “You got something better to be doing?”
“No,” she said. “But somewhere out there, there’s a very scared teenage girl. I don’t know about the rest of you, but she’s what I’m mostly concerned about.”
“Believe me,” Sam said. “That little girl is at the forefront of my mind every minute. All I want to do is find her before it’s too late.”
Indie, her eyebrows arched, stared at him for several seconds. “I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t care, Sam.”
“I know that,” he said. “I just can’t stop thinking about her, that’s all.”
“You guys will figure it out,” Indie said. “But something tells me I’m not going to get a lot of sleep in the next few days, so I’m going to go ahead and catch a nap while I can.” She reached down beside her seat and picked up a blanket, then reclined the seat and pulled the cover up over herself. “Good night,” she said. “Wake me up when we get there.”
Denny and Sam decided to follow her example, and soon all five of them were sleeping peacefully, despite the snoring that was coming from Steve.
A building storm in their path caused the pilot to have to detour around it, so the plane didn’t land until almost five p.m. The whole lot of them stepped onto the tarmac and then went in search of rental vehicles. Once again, Sam
got three separate cars and Rob opted for a van that could carry his entire squad. Because it was already so late in the afternoon, Sam drove directly to the Marriott hotel, which was just outside the airport property, and they all checked in.
The desk clerk looked up at the large group of people who entered and turned to Sam with a smile. “A good evening to you, sir, and welcome to the Marriott Hotel. And how many rooms will you need?”
Sam smiled back. “A bunch,” he said. He handed over a Windlass credit card, and they ended up with a total of seven rooms.
“I can put all of you on one floor,” the clerk said. “I’m afraid it will be the fourth floor, is that all right?”
“Yes, that would be fine. I don’t know how long we're going to be staying, is that a problem?”
“It shouldn’t be,” the man said. “We don’t have many reservations for the next few days. Not really much of anything happening around town, right now.”
Keys were passed out and they ended up taking three separate elevators to get everyone up to the fourth floor. Sam and Indie took the room closest to the elevator while everyone else fanned out to claim rooms for themselves. Once they were all settled in, they went back down to the bistro, which was only open for breakfast and dinner. When they all arrived together, it just about filled the place.
Luckily, it didn’t take long to order, and the food was brought to them fairly quickly. Once they were served, the waitresses went back behind the counter and left them alone.
“Okay, then, boss,” Steve said, “what’s the plan?”
“The plan is to rattle Evan Reese,” Sam said. “While the voice print match might not be enough to bring any kind of charges against him, when you put it together with the fact that he was in Atlanta at the time, it’s enough to convince me he knows something. I want to know how he’s involved and what he knows about the people behind this.”
“Okay,” Denny said. “So, do we just go grab the bloke and beat it out of him?”
“As tempting as that sounds,” Sam said, “I prefer to do this without violence.” He turned to Summer. “How do you feel about trying your own special approach?”
