by James, Ed
“Right. Marie Edwards was at the bus station. I dealt with her too. That means Zangiev knows about Kaitlyn.”
“Why do you think I called you? Zangiev has a leak in the police force. Maybe a few.” Sounds like a door opens. The line goes dead.
Layla sits there, wondering if she’s doing the right thing.
What has he gotten her into? Some girl abducting a baby… it’d need to be a very good reason. Is it worth any amount of money?
She pulls her laptop out of her backpack and opens the location tracker. It takes a few seconds, but it homes in on Xander Delgado, says he’s back home in Olympia.
She leans back in her seat. Used to feel like it’d be never, but her mission was finally getting close to completion.
Tomorrow.
Thirty-Two
CARTER
00:00
Carter pulled into the Field Office garage just as his cell rang. Teng. He pulled into his space and hit answer. “What’s up?”
“Sir, I’m still at the gas station. My guys are drawing a blank in their search for this woman. You okay to send them home for the night?”
Carter pushed back into the headrest. Nothing to be gained from pissing off local cops out there. “Sure.”
“I’ve got a gang of two-fifty pound assholes going to tear him apart about this lock of hair. It’s giving me the creeps, I swear.”
“Let me know how it goes.”
“Okay. We, uh, found a cell phone near the locus.”
Carter sat up. “Go on?”
“Trouble is, it’s fried.” Teng paused. “I mean, it could be some old guy’s cell, but this is all smashed up. Makes me think burner. Out this way, I wouldn’t expect to find a burner either. Seattle, sure. Whether it’s anything to do with your case? Who knows.”
“Seems mighty coincidental to me. Like someone destroying evidence.”
“Or it could be a meth lab out here. Could be anything.”
“Can you send it over here? I’ll get my forensics guys on it; it’s amazing what they can recover.”
“Will do. Strange thing is there’s a note on the back of the cell, taped to it. Says ‘CALL THIS,’ and it’s got a cell number below.”
“You ran it?”
“Looks like a burner. Bought from a convenience store in Bellevue. Pre-paid credit. Chasing down the owner of the store as it was bought with a credit card.”
“That could give us a lead. Call me the second you hear.”
“Sure.”
Carter sat forward, his thumb hovering over the end call button. “Thanks, officer. You’ve been a rock star tonight.”
“Just doing my job, sir.” Carter thought he could detect a proud smile in the words. “I gotta go.”
Carter killed the call and sat back, rubbing at his temples. He left his car and trudged over to the elevator.
It pinged, and SAC Karen Nguyen stepped out. “Max.” She clicked her tongue a few times. “I take it you haven’t recovered Ky yet?”
“I’d call you the second I had a whiff of it.”
“Right, sure.” She snorted. “I’m returning to the Bartletts’. I was hoping for some good news, but… Well? I assume you’ve got nothing?”
“That’s not quite correct. We’re getting somewhere.”
“It’s okay to admit defeat.” She patted his arm. “Need you to pass the case to Lori, then get home. Fresh as a daisy for the morning, Max.”
Carter’s cell rang. He checked the display. Teng’s number. He answered it with a finger raised to Nguyen and walked off. “What’s up?”
“That cell number, the credit card is registered to an Azra Gündoğan.”
Carter felt his blood chill. His mouth went dry.
“That mean something to you?”
“Can you email that to me?” Carter killed the call and walked back to Nguyen. “Karen, I traced a burner from out there to Layla al-Yasin.”
Nguyen held the elevator door. “What?”
“Someone called a cell phone registered to an alias of Layla al-Yasin.”
“Max, I need proof.”
“I’m getting it.”
She stepped back into the elevator with him. “I’m worried you’re seeing patterns that don’t exist here. She’s the one who got away, and you’re connecting coincidences.”
Thirty-Three
KAITLYN
00:10
Mom leads me into the kitchen, warm as ever. The familiar smell of cleaning products and some meaty cooking.
I slump down at the table. Just like the old days, except for the baby hanging around my neck. I loosen the straps and rest Ky’s papoose against the painted wood, flaking in places, then ease him out and give him a deep hug. His diaper smells okay, be good for a few hours at least.
“Can I get you a drink, Kaitlyn?”
I would kill for a wine. “Any orange juice?”
“Fresh out.” Mom is acting weird—totally expected. She keeps staring at Ky in my arms. “What about a hot chocolate?” She’s grinning now. “Just like you used to have after school?”
Her grin’s infectious and I feel my own tugging at my cheeks. “Okay, Mom.”
She pours milk in a mug and stirs cocoa powder in, then puts it in the microwave. It starts rattling and Mom sits next to me, reaching out. “Can I?”
“Sure.”
Mom takes Ky, holding him up high. “What’s her name?”
“Cole. He’s a boy.”
Where did that come from? Oh… Sidewalk. The song playing in Keegan’s car, and he used to own Landon’s house…
“Why’s he wearing pink then?”
“It’s complicated. I had to borrow some clothes.”
“Well, I don’t want my grandson growing up all confused.”
“Mom, that’s not very woke.”
“Not very what?”
“Never mind.”
The microwave pings and Mom passes Ky back to me then trudges over. She stirs my drink then puts it back in. “You hungry?”
“I could eat a horse, Mom.”
“Okay. Let me fix you a plate.” Mom passes me my hot chocolate then starts fussing around in the pantry.
I let out a deep breath, one I didn’t know I was holding. This kitchen used to feel all homey and warm; now it doesn’t feel like I belong here anymore. The corners of the room seem dark, the long shadows hiding demons. Everything’s now a threat.
Mom comes back and slides a plate in front of me. Home-cooked meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Dill pickles and sauerkraut. “That used to be your favorite.”
“Still is, Mom.” I give her Ky and take a hungry bite of potato and don’t chew it much, just swallow. Even cold, it tastes amazing. “So good.”
“Does Cole need feeding?”
“I tried him recently, but he’s not hungry.”
“So you can look after him, but not yourself?”
“Mom…” I take a big bite of meatloaf and potatoes to stop me talking.
She jogs Ky on her lap. “How long are you two planning to stay?”
I finish chewing and swallow. “How long am I welcome for?”
“Forever.” Mom smiles, then cranes her neck to peer down at him. “We’ll need to get your old crib in. It’s still in Duke’s workshop.”
I rest my fork on the edge of the plate. “Where is Duke?”
Mom tickles Ky—Cole, I need to get into that habit—under the chin. “This one needs to get to bed. Come on.”
Thirty-Four
CARTER
01:00
They were in the room where Carter interviewed Chase. That ticking clock was now less an irritant to the suspect, more a reminder to him that each passing second made the successful recovery of Ky Bartlett that much less likely. The table was covered in paperwork and both of their laptops.
Lori looked up from her notebook with her usual frown. “Did anyone go around Grayland or Belfair?”
“The local cop was going to get some cops on it.”
&nb
sp; “On this creep.” Lori raised her eyebrows. “Right. I’ll chase him up, then.”
“Teng seems like a good guy.”
“Even so, I want to make sure we’re in charge, not them.”
“Never change, Lori.”
“Don’t plan to.” She rifled through her notebook. “And as far as I can tell from Elisha, we’ve taken statements from all the neighbors, ran all the usual private surveillance, but nobody saw anything.”
“Figures for that kind of neighborhood.”
“Speaking of which, I just caught up with Tyler Peterson. He doesn’t think there’s enough on the gas station surveillance to identify her.”
“Is there a ‘but’?”
“Not really. Her hooded top and baseball cap mask her face. She’s smart.”
“Or she’s lucky, which can give the same result.”
“He showed me a video of this Keegan Beckman guy threatening her with a knife. Stuck it in her back, walked her over to the truck.”
“A knife?”
“Right. Not sure what happened inside the vehicle, but the guy ended up with his jeans around his ankles, sprawled out on the asphalt.”
Carter didn’t know what to make of it. An attempted rape gone wrong? She seemed to turn the tables on him. And she seemed way too lucky for his liking. Not that almost being raped was lucky.
Then again, a kidnapper getting kidnapped…
“Max, I said, he’s clearly had his ass felt. Asphalt. Get it?”
Carter laughed. “Sorry. It’s been a long day and I really need to get out of here.”
“Right. Well, my assessment is you’re struggling to find any leads.”
Carter folded his arms. “I can’t get to the bottom of it, but maybe you can.”
“I’m not busting your ass here. Look, someone needs to ride this Keegan guy hard. Last-known person to see the suspect and baby. I’ll head over the Sound and interview him. I’ve got the forensics guys heading there, want them to process his vehicle down to the goddamn atoms. Assuming we recover Ky, this’ll go to prosecution pretty damn quick.”
“Okay. It seems like this girl’s been getting lucky, but nobody’s that lucky. The last big case we caught, the guy was an ex-marine. It was impossible to pin him down or get a hold of him. Identifying him needed a boatload of luck on our side. Feels like all the luck here is with her, not us.”
“Luck runs out eventually, Max.”
“I hope so.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I think she’s had help from Layla al-Yasin.” Carter pushed over Teng’s email proof. “There’s evidence linking her to this attack on our friendly neighborhood hair clipper.”
She took a look at the email then snorted. “David.”
“Excuse me?”
“My ex-husband. He’s been sniffing around this case. Usually I get two, maybe three calls a month from him. Today, my cell’s been ringing constantly.”
“You know what he’s after?”
“Getting close to this case. Layla al-Yasin worked for him, remember?”
“Wait a second.” Carter narrowed his eyes. “Landon had Rosita vetted by Lownds and Karevoll. Is he involved in his own kid’s abduction?”
“We’ve both seen much weirder things happen.”
“Should we speak to him?”
“Max…”
“Get home, get some rest while the whole state’s sleeping.”
Carter’s cell blasted out. He checked the display. An international call, England if he had to put money on it. He bounced it. “So, should we? Landon’s actions don’t stack up with someone worried about his missing son. He’s got a hook in to Layla al-Yasin.”
“I’ll get in there with him.” Lori leaned back and yawned. “What’s your take on Chase?”
Carter stared at the clock. “My take is he’s up to something, but I just don’t know what. I asked Dane Rodgers to go through the old, ‘Let’s go over your statement again, then backwards’ shtick.”
“Getting anywhere?”
“That’s the thing, Lori. His whole story stacks up. Receipts and GPS, you name it. Chase could’ve done something, but he could just as easily be innocent.”
“So why is he still here?”
“Because I get the feeling he’s playing us. He’s got an angle with his brother.”
“The ex-wife?”
“Right. And he’s thrown us at Boris Zangiev, and I just don’t know how he fits in either.” Yawning, Carter ran a hand over his face. “Family abductions throw people. I’d suggest letting him go; stick a tail on him, see if he shakes anything loose.”
“Not a bad plan.”
“I’ll leave it with you.” Carter stood up to leave. But his damn cell phone rang again. Same English number. “Someone in England keeps calling me. It’s almost two a.m.”
“They probably know that, Max. It could be important.”
She was right. So Carter sat down and answered it. “Hello?”
“Max Carter?” A gruff English accent, not a million miles away from Bill’s.
“That’s me. Who am I speaking to?”
“Detective Chief Inspector Christopher King. I head up a Murder Investigation Team in the London Metropolitan Police.”
Carter stared up at the clock. “You know what time it is?”
“I do. I’ve been trying your office number for the last week, but haven’t been able to get hold of you.”
“News to me.”
“Well. Are you acquainted with a William James Carter?”
Carter jerked forward, making Lori frown. A London cop calling him? And a murder cop at that? What the hell had Bill done? “He’s my father.”
“I need to speak to you about him.” Sounded like the guy was smiling. “Over a video call. I was merely giving you the courtesy of arranging it.”
“Video?” Carter’s mouth was dry. That meant something serious. “You need to tell me what this is about.”
“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to divulge that. But can we say Monday morning, ten a.m. your time?”
“I’d need to check my calendar.”
“I’ve got your email address. How about I send something through and we can arrange it that way?”
“Sure thing.”
“I assume you’ve got access to our encrypted service?”
“We do.”
“Then I look forward to seeing your face.” And King was gone.
Carter let out a deep sigh and slumped back in the chair.
Lori was frowning at him. “You okay, Max?”
“You hear any of that?”
“Just your half.” Her frown was back again, deeper. “Something about your father?”
Carter felt a jolt run down his spine. “He wouldn’t say what. English cop. London. Homicide.”
“You okay?”
“Not particularly.”
“You can talk to me, you know?”
“I know, but…”
“Suit yourself.” Lori turned to a page at the back of her notebook. She looked hurt.
“Lori, it’s nothing to do with you, it’s…” The pain gnawed at Carter’s guts. “The whole reason I do this job is because of him and what he did. When I was a kid, Bill abducted me from out of school. A year later, my mom died in a car accident. Even though she killed herself, Bill’s felt guilty about it ever since.”
“And you think this is related?”
“Bill’s a shady guy at the best of times. Who knows?”
Lori shut her notebook and sat back, eyes wide. “Max, a few years back, when I was based in Quantico, I worked a serial-killer case, supporting the Miami Field Office. I worked with this English cop on secondment there. Senior guy in the London Metropolitan Police. We kept in touch; he’s a good guy.” She paused, swallowing hard. “I could ask him to do some digging for me. See what’s going on.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
Thirty-Five
KAITLYN
01:
10
I put Ky down in my old crib. Cole. Damnit, I need to practice that. Make it second nature.
Cole lies there, tucked into his blanket, eyes flickering open and shut. Then he’s gone, his mouth opening slightly and his breath deepening.
I finally let mine slip out.
Mom pats my arm and holds up an old baby monitor. Looks like it should be in a museum or thrift store, but Mom loves to hoard. She clips it on and gets the green light, then gives me a thumbs up. She whispers, “Come on,” and leads me back to the kitchen, our gentle steps making the boards creak. She rests the receiving monitor against the tub of sauces in the middle of the table. “Your food’ll be cold.”
“Like it already was…” I laugh then scarf some more down. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Don’t mention it.” A loud and contented sigh rasps out of the speaker. “I’m surprised that thing still works after all this time.”
“Mom, this meatloaf is so good.”
“You need to keep your strength up now that you’re a mother, Kaitlyn. Let me guess, you had a breakfast burrito and skipped lunch?”
I can’t look her in the eye. Instead, I slurp the last of my hot chocolate, almost lukewarm now.
“You need to eat, my girl.” She takes my empty cup. “You want any more cocoa?”
“Just a glass of milk. Thanks.”
“Sure thing.” Mom hobbles over to the icebox and fills a glass with half-and-half. She places it in front of me like she’s still waitressing. “I haven’t seen you for fifteen months, and now you turn up with a baby and no sign of the father.”
Here we go.
I bite into a pickle and take my time chewing it. How much do I give her? Everything, I suppose. “The father left me.”
Her hand goes to her chest. “Who is he?”
“He’s this tech bro douchebag, Mom.”
“A what?”
“He works in tech.” She still seems mystified. “IT. Computers.” That gets a nod, but I don’t think she quite gets it. This town is so physically close to Seattle, but you’d think it was light-years away. “His name is Keegan Hendricks. Grew up in LA, went to MIT, then worked in Silicon Valley. Few years back, he moved to Seattle, worked at Microsoft and Amazon.”