Wherever She Goes (ARC)

by Kelley Armstrong

  It was an imperfect plan. So imperfect that clearly it’d gone wrong. Either his captors weren’t asking Brandon the right questions or he wasn’t around to—

  No, I wouldn’t think of that.

  Get the data. That was my goal. Pray that I wasn’t making wild and desperate connections. Pray that USB drive was where I thought it would be.

  I’m in the park. I’ve driven back to Oxford, watching to be sure I’m not tailed. Laila has called twice. I haven’t heard from Zima. I doubt I will. I suspect that even if he manages to get Paul away from Orbec, I’ll hear from Paul instead, Zima too concerned with finding his son and settling a score with his parents.

  I saw Kim play her hiding game in a small patch of forest. On the drive here, I mentally move past the “finding the USB” part and on to planning my next move. That’s how easy I expected this search to be. It’s a quarter acre of forest. I know what I’m looking for. It’s a simple matter of retrieving the drive.

  It is not a simple matter. A quarter acre seems tiny when you’re playing with a child. I remember once walking through this “forest” with Charlotte and laughing as she darted from tree to tree, hoping to spot a deer or fox. I remember thinking I really needed to get my daughter out of the city more often if this was her idea of wilderness.

  Yes, this patch wouldn’t hide a herd of deer, but it’s more than a few trees. It’s dozens of them, plus fallen logs and piles of dead leaves and pockets of brush. After ten minutes of wild searching—under this log, in this knothole—I stop and force myself to proceed methodically. Check every tree for knotholes. Lift every log and fallen branch. Forget the leaf piles for now—if I were Kim, I’d pick a spot he’d remember, and a random leaf pile wasn’t good enough.

  I’m still searching when my phone rings. I think it’ll be Laila again, and I’m ready to ignore it when I see that it’s Orbec. I check the clock. It’s been fifty-five minutes.

  “You said an hour,” I say when I answer.

  He gives a chuckle. It sounds strained, but it’s probably just the connection. “If you don’t have it by now, you won’t have it in the next five minutes, Aubrey. Did I make a mistake taking your estranged husband? Are you hoping I’ll kill him? Save you the hassle of a divorce?”

  “If that’s a joke, it’s not funny.”

  “Good. I read the situation correctly. You want him back, which means you have the drive—”

  “I don’t have your drive, asshole. I met Kim once. Maybe you can’t imagine a stranger getting involved in this, but take a closer look at your life and consider the possibility that’s just you.”

  “No, I’m quite certain it’s not. If you’re stalling—”

  “Yes.” I check yet another knothole. “Yes, I am stalling. Because I’m hunting for this damned drive. I have a good idea where it is. That’s detective work, not insider information. I’m searching for it right now.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I let out a string of profanity that makes him chuckle again.

  “You have quite the mouth on you, Aubrey. Not exactly the nice little librarian you pretend to be.”

  “Give me another half hour.”

  “I’m not giving you another half minute—”

  I let out a grunt of pain that stops him short. I’ve stubbed my toe, walking with my gaze on the trees. I look down to see a rock. A rock beside a depression. A rock that has been moved.

  While Orbec blusters, I bend and move the rock. There, under it, is a small black box. My hands shake as I take it out. I open it to see . . .

  “I found it!” I say. “I have the drive.”

  I swear I hear Orbec exhale in relief. Apparently, I’m not the only one who needs this data. If he doesn’t get it, he’ll be in deep trouble with his boss . . . a guy who solves problems with bullets.

  “Describe it,” he says.

  “Thumb drive. Silver swing top. Blue base. There’s lettering . . . Zima Auto Body.”

  He definitely exhales now. “That’s it. Bring—”

  “I want to speak to my husband.”

  “You’ll see him soon.”

  “I don’t trust you. Let me speak to him, or I turn this over to the feds.”

  A growl of frustration. Footsteps. A door creaks.

  “Mr. Finch, please tell your wife you are fine.”

  “Aubrey?” Paul’s voice comes from the distance. “Call the police. I don’t care what he’s told you. Just call—”

  The door slams shut. Orbec walks away, and Paul’s muffled voice falls to silence.

  “I trust you will not take his advice,” Orbec says.

  “Not unless I have to,” I say. “But I’ll be ready to. You give me the slightest reason to think you’re going to screw me over, and I have the cops on speed dial.”

  I expect him to threaten me, but he only says, “Fine. I’m not going to cheat you, Aubrey. Like you said, you know who I am. This is a dangerous game we’re both playing, and we just want it over with. I’m going to give you an address and exactly enough time to get there. You’ll give me the drive. I’ll give you your husband. If you don’t do anything stupid, this will be painless. You have my word on that.”

  I try not to snort. Then I say, “And Brandon?”

  “We’ll discuss that.”

  “Do you have Brandon?”

  “He’s fine. Now, meet me—”

  “If it’s a back alley in Chicago, the answer is no.”

  “This isn’t a gangster movie, Aubrey. I have nothing to gain by hurting you or your husband. I just want the drive. Give me that, and everyone’s life gets a whole lot easier. Mine included. We’re going to meet in a park. You seem to like parks.”

  I say nothing.

  He tells me which park and which visitor lot, and then says, “It’s a public enough place. I’m not driving up with your hubby in a gag and cuffs. He’ll be riding shotgun. I’ll park. You’ll pull in beside me. We’ll do the exchange there, and for all anyone will know, it’s just a guy switching cars. No cloak-and-dagger crap. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I drive straight to the park. When I enter the visitors’ lot, I see Orbec’s Charger pull into a spot, as if he timed my arrival. He’s down at the end, under a huge oak, away from the other cars. There’s one couple tugging a jogging stroller from their SUV. Otherwise, while the lot is dotted with cars, there are no people. Relatively public, like he promised.

  I pull in beside his car. Paul’s in the passenger seat. He tries to smile for me. It’s strained, but he looks fine.

  Orbec lowers the passenger window. “See? He’s okay. Now, he’s going to reach out, and you’re going to put the drive in his hand. He passes it to me. Then he gets out.”

  I look at Paul. He finds that weak smile again and mouths, “It’s okay.”

  “Where’s Brandon?” I ask.

  Orbec sighs. “You just don’t give up, do you? Brandon is fine. Hubby here has seen him, yes?”

  Paul nods.

  Orbec continues. “I have the number for his aunt Ellie, from Beth. As soon as I’ve verified the data on this drive, I’ll place that call, and she’ll come and get him.”

  “Not good enough.”

  His brows arch. “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t trust you, so here’s the new plan. I give you the drive, and you let Paul go. He leaves with this car. I go with you to verify the drive, and then I take Brandon for Ellie.”

  Paul’s mouth opens, and I brace for him to object. But then he meets my gaze, and he nods. He knows I need to do this, and he will not interfere, and God, I love him for that.

  Orbec is muttering under his breath. Uncomplimentary things, I’m sure, but he doesn’t object either. He just glares at me and says, “If you aren’t a friend of Kim’s, then you’re a crazy bitch, you know that?”

  “No, I’m a mom. And since Brandon’s mother can’t help him get home, I will.”

  He goes quiet at that and then nods. A moment of silence, before he s
ighs and looks past Paul to me. His voice is softer when he says, “Look, I know how this seems, but it’s not like that. You don’t need to come with me. I’ll get Brandon to his auntie. All I need is that USB drive, and everyone will be safe.”

  “I don’t care. I can’t trust you.”

  “Fine. Paul, get that drive from your wife, and then you two swap places.”

  Paul shakes his head. “If Aubrey goes, I go.”

  “What?” Orbec says.

  “You heard me. If Aubrey goes with you, so do I.”

  “Oh, hell, you two make a great pair. So I get the USB and an extra hostage? You do understand that’s not how ransom works, right?”

  “If Paul stays, that’s his choice,” I say. “But I’m not handing over the drive. I’m getting into your backseat with it. You’ll take me to Brandon, where I will verify integrity of the drive while you watch. Then I walk away with Brandon.”

  Orbec throws up his hands. “Fine. You’re both nuts, but fine. Let’s do this.”

  Paul insists on sitting in the backseat with me. He holds my hand, and I try to apologize, but he stops me.

  “I’m all right,” he says, our voices quiet, muffled by the rumble of the car. “Everything’s all right. Brandon’s fine. I’ve seen him. Whatever’s going on here, he’s not in danger. He’s a bargaining chip. That’s all.”

  “Gayle’s okay, too,” I say, whispering so Orbec doesn’t overhear.

  He makes a face, like he’s about to say he doesn’t care before he stops himself.

  “I know what she did,” I say, “with the video.”

  He leans in to whisper back. “I should have told you when I thought I recognized her car. I just couldn’t believe it. I had to confront her.” He shakes his head and continues, his voice still low. “Gayle wasn’t . . . I’m not even sure what she was. She pursued me, and I gave in, and I hope part of it wasn’t me trying to make you jealous, but I honestly don’t know.”

  “I think, to be jealous, I’d have to feel like I could compete. She seemed perfect for you. After what I did to you, I wanted to make amends, and if that meant forcing myself to be happy that you were with someone who made you happy . . .”

  “She didn’t.”

  His hand tightens again, holding mine tighter now. Am I hoping for more? A declaration? Of course I am. But what I have is this—that he’s coming with me, staying at my side, holding my hand. That’s enough for now.

  We take a convoluted route to our destination. I’m watching the position of the sun, and I can tell the car loops back on its route a few times. I try not to worry about that—it makes sense that Orbec wouldn’t follow a straight path.

  We leave the city and eventually arrive at a farmhouse not unlike the one where Kim had been living. It’s a ramshackle two-story home surrounded by forest and field. Paul nods to me, confirming this is where he’d been before. Orbec takes us inside without preamble. He steps in and calls, “Lynn?”

  A young woman opens a door and peeks out warily.

  “Bring the boy,” he says.

  She retreats and returns with Brandon. He looks wan, with dark circles under his eyes, but he’s obviously been cared for, his clothing new, his hair and face clean. When he sees Paul, he smiles and runs over. Then he spots me and skids to a stop. He blinks.

  “You’re . . . you’re the mom from the park,” he says. “You did cartwheels.”

  I nod. “I am.”

  The smile fades as he eyes me.

  “This is my wife, Aubrey,” Paul says. “She’s here to get you back to your aunt Ellie.”

  Brandon perks up. “Aunt Ellie’s here?”

  “She’s in the city,” I say. “First, though . . . Before you saw me in the park, had you ever met me before, Brandon?”

  His face scrunches in confusion. “No . . .”

  I shoot a glare at Orbec, who only shrugs. Then Orbec says, “Go back with Lynn, Brandon. The grown-ups need to talk, and then Paul and Aubrey can take you home.”

  “I’ll stay with him,” Paul says. “I believe we have a game of Chutes and Ladders to finish.”

  Brandon lights up and takes Paul’s hand, leading him to the other room. The young woman follows and starts to close the door behind them.

  “Leave it open,” I say.

  She looks at Orbec, who nods. Once she’s gone, I say, “Okay, get me a computer. I’ll open the drive and confirm its integrity.”

  “Integrity?”

  “Make sure the drive and the files aren’t corrupted.”

  I can tell he still has no idea what I’m talking about, but he nods as if he does. Which tells me that if I do find problems, I don’t need to let him know.

  He brings out a laptop. I plug in the USB and confirm there are files on the drive. I run a quick disk scan. Everything comes up clean, and I show him the results.

  “The drive is undamaged,” I say. “Now open a few files to be sure it’s the right one. I’ll turn around. I don’t even want to see what’s on those.”

  I turn. After a few clicks, he says, “Yeah, it’s the data.”

  “Good, so I get Brandon and you can deliver the drive to your boss.”

  He snorts. “My boss is the guy who made this damned drive. Denis. The idiot. Six years ago, I tried to tell him it was a stupid idea, but did he listen to me? Hell, no.”

  “I mean you can give it to your real boss. Denis’s father.”

  “My boss is Denis Zima, Ms. Finch. I work for him, not his old man.”

  I look over sharply. “So Denis was behind this? He wants this drive?”

  “He might, but it’s going to his parents. Denis is my friend, and I look after my friends.”

  “I can see that. Was killing Kim and kidnapping Brandon for his own good, too? With friends like you, Denis Zima sure as hell doesn’t need enemies.”

  Orbec glares at me. “You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you? I’m the thug here. I’m the bad guy. The one who murders innocent girls and kidnaps their babies. You look at me, and you think you know all about me.”

  He steps toward me. “I don’t work for Denis’s parents. I didn’t kill Kimmy. I didn’t want to take her little boy. You tell me you got caught up in this, stuck in the middle of someone else’s problem? Well, maybe you aren’t the only one.”

  He eases back. “Papa Zima found out Kimmy was living near Chicago. I still have friends in his organization, and they warned me. I tried to warn her. I offered to help, but no, she had her own plans. She didn’t trust me. I knew whatever plans Kimmy had, they weren’t good enough. So I used her phone records to track down Beth Kenner. When I couldn’t make her see reason either, I intercepted their plans for Brandon. Beth was supposed to pick him up at the park, but I beat her to it. Beth started listening to me then . . . or she did after those bastards got to Kimmy.”

  “So you and Beth Kenner have been working together to hold Brandon in protective custody. Until when? What was your end game?”

  He waves the drive. “This, obviously. Find the data. Give it to Papa Zima. Back him off. Then call Kimmy’s sister and give her the boy, preferably without Denis ever knowing he had a son. Which is a lousy thing to do to a friend, but it was for the kid’s own good. Denis’s, too. Denis’s parents would hold the kid over his head, leverage to get Denis back into the fold.”

  “And now that Denis knows about Brandon?”

  “We’ll figure that one out. For now, I have this.” He raises the drive. “And you can have the boy. I’ll give you a lift back to the city.”

  “Thanks, but no. I think we’ll take it from here.”

  He shrugs. “Suit yourself. Brandon? Come on out. It’s time to go home.”

  We have Brandon. Orbec offers again to drive us to the city, but he doesn’t seem surprised when we refuse. Whatever his motivations, he is still the one who took Paul and threatened me, and now that I have what I came for, I’m getting the hell out. Paul agrees.

  We walk onto the front porch.

/>   “At the end of the drive, turn left,” Orbec says as he steps onto the porch with us. “It’s about a mile to a gas station. You can get a cab to pick you up there. Don’t get any ideas about calling the cops. Please. That’ll just make this a lot more complicated than it needs to be.”

  “I have what I wanted,” I say.

  “Good. Then get going—”

  “Yes,” says a voice behind me. “You and your husband should go. The boy stays with me.”

  Paul and I both wheel to see a woman walking from the forest. She’s about fifty, tall and sturdy . . . and flanked by two men with guns. Two more men appear around the other side of the house.

  “Don’t, Hugh,” she says. “You know that’s a very bad idea.”

  Orbec goes still, hand poised over his gun. He slowly withdraws it.

  “Mama Zima,” Orbec says. “I was just about to come see you and Papa. I have something you want.”

  He holds up the USB drive.

  “Excellent,” she says. “But you actually have two things I want. I’ll take the drive . . . and I’ll take my grandson.”

  Orbec shakes his head. “He’s not your grandson, Mama. He’s just Kimmy’s kid. She got knocked up after she left Denis. I took him, in hopes she’d turn over the drive in exchange, but someone else got to her first. Luckily, these two cared enough about the brat to make the trade.”

  “So this isn’t my son’s boy?”

  “If Denis got Kimmy knocked up, she’d have ridden that train to the end. Sunk her hooks even deeper into Denis and never let go. Nah, this is just some brat—”

  “Liar.”

  I don’t see the gun in Mama Zima’s hand until that hand rises, that gun firing. I wheel toward Paul and Brandon. Paul’s lunging to shield me, but the shot whizzes past. Orbec falls. I scoop up Brandon, who’s frozen. Paul shoves us both back through the still-open door. I’m running for cover when I realize Paul isn’t behind me. I wheel, nearly dropping Brandon. Paul’s there, slamming shut the dead bolt.

  Outside, Mama Zima laughs. “Do you really think that’s going to help? Give me my grandson, and I’ll let you leave, but if I have to come in there after you . . .”