Dead and Gone
Page 200
Chris cursed. How could Duncan Rowe be in so many places at the same time? “That makes four now.”
“Each from a different part of the city.” Devereaux spat the words. “It doesn’t add up. He can’t be in all those places at once. What now?”
Chris thought for a second. They were headed to the location where one of Rowe’s cards had first been used, only a few minutes earlier. There weren’t enough units to cover all the sites while still keeping Ashley Wheeler under close guard. The next decision he made might be the difference between killing Rowe and him getting away.
He made his decision just as their vehicle pulled up at the McDonald’s. “Devereaux and I will get out here. The rest of you keep moving. Scramble any available units to the other locations. We’ll see what the situation looks like at that point.”
The others nodded. Chris gripped his pistol and climbed out of the car, slammed the door shut and watched as it sped on to the next location. He scanned the McDonald’s, but nothing looked awry. It was full of families sucking down burgers and soda. It looked as calm and normal as the apartment building in New York City, where he’d disturbed Duncan Rowe in a deadly act.
Chris waved Devereaux forward and they moved fast and low through the parking lot. As Chris approached the main doors, Devereaux moved to cover the only other exit. They paused and locked eyes on each other, then Chris nodded. They entered the restaurant at the same time.
“FBI!” Chris shouted as he swept his weapon around the restaurant, looking for Duncan Rowe. “Stay where you are!”
While Devereaux covered both exits, it took Chris a minute to sweep the restaurant. He checked the dining room, the playground, the kitchen, and the drive-through window. He even looked in the cool room. Duncan Rowe wasn’t inside. He cursed, and hoped the officers at the other locations had turned up Rowe. The failure to get his man felt like a punch to the kidney.
Chris lowered his pistol but kept it drawn as he returned to the front of the restaurant and approached a kid behind the register. “You in charge?”
“Yes, sir. I’m Simon Johnson, the shift manager.” The kid’s voice wavered as he spoke. He looked scared.
“I need to know which of your customers used this Visa card in the last ten minutes.” Chris handed over a slip of paper with the number on it. “Quickly.”
“I can check.” The boy’s hands came down from over his head and he punched commands into the point of sale system in front of him. “It’ll be a minute.”
Chris nodded and took a step back. There was no point intimidating the kid further. As he waited, Chris eyeballed every customer he could see, but none of them looked anything like Duncan Rowe. Then he looked at his phone. None of the other officers had called him, meaning there’d been no progress in finding Rowe at the other sites. He was still hoping there was an obvious answer for the multiple pings.
“Sir?” The boy looked up from his terminal. “I’ve got the record. I served a customer who presented a Visa card with the same first and last four digits as the card you’re interested in. He purchased a large cheeseburger meal eleven minutes ago and it was given to him nine minutes ago.”
Chris’s eyes widened. “Is he still here?”
“The customer dined in.” The boy raised his hand and pointed behind Chris. “It’s that kid over there.”
Chris turned and looked where the staff member was pointing, straight at a teenager who was sitting on his own. The boy looked confused by the attention, especially when Chris marched over to him. Though he didn’t have any legal right to do so, Chris snatched the boy’s wallet up off the table and rifled through it until he found one of the Visa cards inside, the same card used to hire the vehicle they’d been tailing.
“Care to explain this?” Chris tossed the wallet down in front of the stunned teenager. He waved the credit card in the kid’s face. “You’ve got 10 seconds.”
“Some dude gave it to me. He was giving them out to all the guys, saying to spend up big.” The kid shrugged. “Why? Am I in some sort of trouble?”
Chris cursed and turned his back on the kid. He ran back out to the parking lot, waving for Devereaux to follow. As he stepped outside, Chris realized they had no wheels. He’d sent the other cops on to another location, where they’d find another kid with a card and a smile. As the realization sank in, Chris holstered his pistol and dug through his pockets for his cell phone.
“Call the others.” Chris was already dialing Ashley’s number, but speaking to Devereaux as he did. “I want everyone to head for the motel. And get one car here to pick us up. I—”
Chris was interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. He answered. “Hello?”
“Agent Horan? It’s Dean Remmers, I—”
Chris’s eyes widened. Remmers was meant to be looking after Lucy. “Do you have her."
There was a pause. “Well—”
“Lucy Wheeler, where is she?”
“Gone, Agent Horan. She’s been taken.”
58
Ashley
Ashley heard the sirens first. They started as a faint whisper in the far distance, but grew louder as several police vehicles converged on her location. She heard the screeching of tires and the slamming of car doors, all in a row. Then came the shouts. Lots of them.
She could have opened the door to see what was happening, or take a peek out the window, but instead she just lay on the bed waiting for the bad news. Already confused about why Duncan Rowe hadn’t shown up at her motel, with each passing minute her confidence in the plan to capture and kill him had receded. She was waiting for the inevitable moment when the police admitted they’d failed.
When Chris Horan admitted he’d failed.
She stared at the ceiling and waited. As the sirens cut out and she could hear people talking outside, she waited. Only when there was a pounding on her door did she bother to do anything. She let out a sigh, climbed off the bed, and shuffled toward the door. When her hand gripped the knob, she thought momentarily about asking who it was, but figured that with that many sirens, it was unlikely Duncan Rowe was at her front door.
She opened the door to see Horan, his face as dark as a thundercloud. She made no move to let him in. “You lost him.”
“I thought we had him.” Horan spoke slowly, as if he’d rehearsed every word. “He killed one officer. I’m afraid there’s some more bad news.”
Ashley felt her heart quicken. “What is it?”
“Let me come inside and we’ll talk, I—”
“No! I want to know!”
Horan’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to weigh up her resistance versus the merits of telling her. Finally, he sighed. “Ashley, Lucy is missing. I think he’s got her.”
Ashley felt her knees give way and she started to fall. She felt herself rushing toward the floor, until something stopped her. She blinked a few times. Horan had stepped forward and caught her. She snarled and sobbed and squealed as she processed what he’d told her. As he supported her weight, she pounded his chest with her fists, futilely trying to translate her fury into violence.
“Ashley, I’m sorry.” Horan didn’t strike back or defend himself, he just let the blows rain down on him as he eased her slowly to the floor. “I’m very, very sorry.”
“You fucking bastard.” She hissed the words at him, her breaths coming in ragged, heaving chunks as she continued to strike at him. “I trusted you!”
“I know.” Horan’s voice was full of regret, but it was a thread of regret in an entire tapestry of misery. “We almost had him.”
“You were supposed to help us! Now that bastard has my daughter and is doing God knows what to her!” Ashley locked eyes with Horan, who held her gaze for a moment and then looked down. “You were using me and you were using her. You never cared if anything happened to us, as long as you got your man.”
“That’s fair.” Horan’s voice trailed off, as if he was about to say more but thought better of it.
Ashley wriggled free of his gri
p as she moved back inside the motel room. She closed her eyes. She needed to think. She needed to figure out how to get Lucy back.
She needed to contact Duncan Rowe and beg him to spare her daughter in return for the right to do anything he wanted to her. She knew he wanted her. It’d work.
Ashley heard fresh shouting from outside the motel room. Her eyes shot open. It confused her, until Horan fled inside the room and closed the door. When he drew his pistol, she knew something was wrong. She finally found her voice. “What’re you doing?”
“Giving you a choice.” Horan locked the door and turned his gaze on her. “But you need to make it.”
Ashley frowned. She didn’t want to hear any more of his shit. “I’m done with your stunts, Chris.”
“You’re not listening! Those cops are here to bust us. You and me!” Horan hissed. “I think they’ve figured out I had no authorization to run this operation.”
“So I let them take you down.” Ashley’s voice was louder than she’d intended. “I just want to find my daughter before he tortures her, rapes her, or kills her.”
“You’re not getting out of here without me and vice versa.” Horan shrugged. “She’s been taken, I know that much, but I don’t know where. I don’t have any leads, but you can bet I’ve got a much greater chance of finding Rowe than the local police department. Do you really think he’ll have any trouble outwitting them?”
“Why should I trust you, after all this?” Ashley brought her face an inch from his, her eyes wide. “He’s got my daughter because of you!”
“I know.” Horan held her gaze. “I didn’t do a good enough job, but I’m probably the only shot you have of finding your daughter.”
Ashley’s mind raced. She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, to try her luck with Rowe and hope Lucy would be spared. But a voice in the back of her head told her that was unlikely. Rowe tortured his victims by cutting away the things that were important to them. No bargain with him would lead to Lucy being freed. He was just as likely to cut Ashley’s daughter up in front of her. Horan was the one shot she had.
“Agent Horan, this is the Wallingford Police Department,” a voice boomed over a megaphone. “Come out with your weapon holstered and your hands above your head.”
Chris spoke softly, calmly. “Time to decide, Ashley.”
She thought for another second, then gritted her teeth and nodded. “Okay, I’ll double down, but I owe you nothing.”
“Fair enough.” He sighed with relief, then raised the gun and pointed it at her. “You’re my hostage.”
Ashley felt a moment of fright, until she realized this was their means of escape. “Is that really necessary?”
“More than necessary.” Horan smiled sadly. “It’s the only way out of here that doesn’t involve me wearing a nice new metal bracelet.”
Ashley nodded and gasped when Chris moved behind her and pressed his pistol against her head. He gestured toward the door, and they moved there together. The minute she opened it, her senses exploded with shouts and flashing lights. She held up a hand to shield her eyes, but didn’t get a chance to take it all in, because Chris was already pressing her forward. They made it to an SUV and climbed in, with nobody taking a shot.
As Chris started the vehicle, his weapon still pointed at her, the cops made no move to stop them. Ashley hoped she’d made the right decision. She owed him nothing, because his failings had delivered Lucy into the hands of a madman. On the other hand, he was the best chance she had of finding her daughter.
Once they were on the road, Ashley looked at Horan. He had the look of a madman. She realized he was as obsessed with the killer as the killer was with Ashley. Like it or not, he was the last chance she had, her only chance of finding her daughter and getting her back. She didn’t trust him, but she’d ride him as far as she had to.
There was nobody left to trust. She was on her own.
59
Duncan
Duncan smiled as he tapped the steering wheel in time with a country music song he didn’t know. As he sped along at 80 miles per hour, the road ahead of him was clear and so were his mirrors. It had been like that for at least the last hour, with only the occasional car to keep him company. He’d made it out of Wallingford and the trap that had been laid for him, and seized some of the most precious loot in the city – Lucy Wheeler.
Though the little girl hadn’t been his target, capturing her was a good result. Ashley’s deceit meant he now had the thing that mattered most to her, the thing she’d do anything to protect. He was counting on it. He was going to show her exactly what lies and false promises led to.
“Going okay back there, kiddo?” Duncan turned his head to glance into the back seat of the car. When there was no reply, he scoffed and spoke again. “Suit yourself.”
He’d cuffed Lucy to the inside handle of the door, so there was no chance of escape. She’d tried struggling, for a while, until she’d worn herself out and simply sat there sobbing gently, her head downcast. She was still awake, Duncan was sure of that, but she’d given up trying to fight the situation.
He didn’t like to target children. He might separate his targets from their kids, but he’d never harm them. Usually.
This was a special case.
Ashley had given him no choice.
Duncan tuned back in to the music, ignoring the girl in the back seat. He didn’t know where they were headed, but it needed to be far enough away from the net that he’d nearly been caught in. He’d dumped the car he’d stolen from the dead cop and then stolen another. He planned to find a quiet location and then contact Ashley Wheeler again. Right after he dealt with the light that had just started flashing on the car dash.
He sighed and pressed the button that fired up the in-car commands. “Take me to the nearest gas station.”
The GPS took a moment, but soon Duncan was following the map to a gas station. He couldn’t chance finding another one with only 20 miles of gas left. He drove to the station, got out of the car and filled it up, whistling a soft tune as he did. He kept his eyes locked onto Lucy Wheeler to make sure she did nothing to expose him, but she kept as still and as silent as she’d been for the last hour.
Duncan walked inside and made his way to the cashier. He fumbled for his wallet and opened it, then realized he didn’t have enough cash for the full tank of gas he’d purchased. Worse, he’d handed out all his cards to those kids to get the police off his ass. He waved an apology to the gas station attendant, said he was going back to the car for more cash, then climbed inside his vehicle. Only when he started the engine did the cashier rush outside.
He made it a few minutes down the road before a cop car that had been travelling in the other direction turned around, its light bar flashing. He could pull over or make a run for it. While he had a lot of skills, high-speed driving wasn’t among them. It seemed like the best option was to hope the cop was lazy and that he’d get away with a fine. Duncan pulled over and waited.
When the officer reached the car, Duncan had already wound down the window. The officer leaned inside. “License and registration, please.”
“Is there a problem, officer?” As he spoke the phrase, Duncan wondered how many times it was uttered across America each day.
“You tell me.” The cop’s features offered no explanation, and his eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. “License and registration.”
Duncan had no answer for the officer. He had no license and no idea where the owner of the car had stashed the registration. “I—”
“Help me! Please!” Lucy chose that moment to make the plea for help that Duncan had been expecting. She was screaming and crying.
The cop features hardened. His eyes flickered between Lucy and Duncan, then he took a step back and placed one hand on his pistol. “I need you to step out of the car, sir. Keep your hands in my sight, move slowly as you exit the vehicle and then stand facing away from the vehicle. I want the child to stay in the car.”
Duncan
nodded and did as he was told. He kept his eyes on the officer as the cop leaned away and spoke into the radio secured on his right shoulder. In the split second the cop took his eyes off Duncan, he moved his hands quickly, then resumed his slow movement out of the car. As Duncan opened the door, the cop stepped back. Duncan climbed out and waited for the cop to finish talking on the radio.
“Is there anything you need to tell me, sir?” The cop stayed a few steps back, one hand hovering over the pistol holstered on his hip. “I’m just running your plates.”
“Sure.” Duncan sighed. It was time to confess. “I stole some gas back there. I didn’t have the money to pay and I need to get my little girl back home.”
The cop’s eyes narrowed. “Turn around for me, sir, and place your hands on the car.”
Duncan turned around, spread his legs and placed his hands high on the car. As he waited, he listened to the cop speaking into the radio again, and the response. Duncan also watched Lucy Wheeler. The girl had lifted her head and ended her hopeless, static wait. She looked at him through wide eyes, clearly hoping her ordeal was over. He smiled at her and Lucy’s eyes flickered between him and the cop.
Duncan swallowed hard when the cop started to describe his appearance. He took his hands off the car and started to turn. “Officer?”
“Stay still!” The cop’s voice was raised now. He turned his attention back to the radio. “Dispatch, suspect also has a young, red-haired girl with him.”
“Patrol seven, detain the suspect on suspicion of kidnapping and motor vehicle theft. We think he kidnapped the girl from Wallingford.”
Duncan had already started to move as the words were spoken, even as he heard Lucy cry out from the car. As he turned, he flicked the knife he’d stashed up his sleeve into his hand. The cop’s eyes were wide as he fumbled for his pistol, but he was too late. Duncan took a step and then put all his strength into the blow. The knife went hilt-deep into the cop’s stomach.