Devil's Advocate (Trackdown Book 4)

by Michael A. Black

  “Lieutenant Phil Garth,” McNamara said. “I know him.”

  Reno looked somber as he stood off to the side, leaning on his fancy cane. He gave a slight nod to Wolf and McNamara as they entered the living room. It was a large room with beige colored walls and a matching carpet. A large television sat at the far end, and next to it was a shelf with several knickknacks and miniature glass horses. There were a sofa and three chairs, but no one was seated except for Mr. and Mrs. Ryland.

  Mr. Ryland’s face looked in even worse shape than Freddie’s. His right eye was swollen shut and both sides of his face were covered with a variety of different sized scarlet and purple lumps. He sat in a living room chair talking to Reno’s brother and the uniformed officer. Manny stood on the side of the sofa, his huge body like a towering monolith, with his hand on his sister’s shoulder. Mrs. Ryland’s face was buried in her hands and her body jerked convulsively and her husband continued to relate the long, sad tale.

  “Everything was going smooth until she insisted on stopping at that damn rest stop,” Mr. Ryland said. “They were waiting there for us. We didn’t see the motorcycles because they were parked on the other side, in the trucking section.” His S’s had an uncharacteristic lisp to them. When he paused to sigh and lick his lips, it became obvious that he was missing some important teeth in front.

  “I never dreamed she’d set us up like this,” he said. “I mean, after that little incident last night, she seemed to be going along with what we wanted. Said she’d go to Louise’s up in Idaho so long as we promised we’d let her come home for Christmas.”

  “You say she was texting?” the cop in the suit asked. “Could you see who she was communicating with?”

  Wolf assumed from the man’s posture and question that this was Reno’s brother.

  “I was right next to her,” Mrs. Ryland broke in, her voice sounding fragile and broken. “But she kept leaning sideways. I should’ve known. I should have known.”

  Manny patted her shoulder.

  Wolf and McNamara exchanged glances.

  Wolf regretted not advising Mr. Ryland to take the girl’s phone last night.

  “And you made out a police report with the State Police?” Phil Garth asked.

  Mr. Ryland nodded. “For all the good it did. After they jumped us and took off with Glory, one of them came around and stuck a knife in two of our tires. They took our cell phones and smashed them to bits. We had to wait until someone else stopped before we could call for the police and an ambulance. By that time, fifteen or twenty minutes had gone by.”

  “Do you think you can identify any of them?”

  Mr. Ryland shook his head and then winced as if the movement had brought a flood of pain.

  “They wore masks,” he said, again lisping as he said the word. “Horrible skeleton-like things over the lower parts of their faces. Even that damn Timmy, but I’m sure it was him. Glory ran right to him.”

  “And one of them said, ‘This is for Bruns,’ to me,” Freddie said. “Called me a motherfucker, too.”

  Reno’s brother nodded in acknowledgment.

  “I should have known,” Mrs. Ryland said, her voice a high-pitched whine between sobs.

  “I called a friend of mine on State,” Phil Garth said, sounding very official and reassuring. “They put out an amber alert on your daughter, and she’s in the computer as a minor requiring authoritative intervention. A runaway.”

  “But she was abducted, I tell you,” Mr. Ryland said. “They took her. That god damn Timmy was with them. That’s a kidnapping, isn’t it?”

  Reno’s brother drew his lips into a thin line.

  “At the moment, let’s just be concerned with finding her and getting her back,” he said. “It’ll be up to the State Police to determine any charges, but from what you say, your daughter was possibly complicit …”

  He left the sentence incomplete and the last word hung in the air like a bad smell.

  “It was those biker gangsters,” Mr. Ryland said. “Those thugs attacked us and took out daughter. Why can’t you do anything?”

  “The Satan’s Spawn,” Manny said. “That’s the group that Timmy was supposedly trying to hang around with.”

  “If the motorcycle gang you mentioned is involved,” Phil Garth said, “they’ll be checked out. My friend on State said he was aware of them. They’re purported to have a club house and it’s being looked at.”

  Manny patted his sister’s shoulder twice and then cocked his head toward Wolf, indicating he should follow. Manny moved across the room with a moderately fast gait for one so large and pushed out the front door. Wolf and McNamara followed. Reno limped right behind them. The glowing porch light illuminated the area.

  “Anybody got a cigarette?” Manny asked.

  Wolf shook his head and looked around. None of the others had one either.

  “Didn’t know you smoked, Manny,” McNamara said, offering him some gum.

  Manny grabbed a stick, unwrapped it, and tossed the papers onto the lawn. “I quit smoking twenty years ago, but, Christ, this damn thing has started me craving something.” He ran his fingers through his longish hair and shook his head.

  Freddie pushed through the door and stood beside them looking expectant.

  “You ask them?” he said.

  Manny frowned and shook his head again. His jaws worked. After taking a deep breath, he looked at McNamara.

  “What would it take for you guys to track her down and bring her back? How much?”

  Wolf watched Mac’s reaction. He shrugged.

  “I don’t know if we’d be your best choice,” McNamara said. “You got the police working on it, and they’re a lot better equipped than we are.”

  “Bullshit,” Manny said. “You know as well as I do that the cops are practically fucking handcuffed. They gotta do things by the fucking book, needing probable cause and waiting on search warrants. No offense to your brother, Reno.”

  Reno gave a fractional nod. His face looked drawn and tight.

  “Anyway,” Manny continued. “My point is, we can’t afford to wait. Who knows how long Glory’s got before she’s—” He stopped and grimaced. Freddie winced, too.

  “Before something awful happens,” Manny said a few seconds later.

  McNamara put his hand on Manny’s shoulder. “I share your concern. But the fact remains that the police have a bigger network than we do, a lot more resources, and they’ve got a helluva lot more intel on this biker group.”

  “I can ask my brother to fill us in,” Reno said.

  “Tell them about the cell phone, Manny,” Freddie said.

  “Right.” Manny’s head perked up. “Glory took her cell phone. Can’t you guys trace it someway?”

  “We can’t unless we got cooperation from the cell phone company,” McNamara said. “But I’m sure the police are probably already doing that.”

  “We are,” Phil Garth said as he stepped through the door with the uniformed officer and joined them on the cement slab that constituted a front porch of sorts.

  Reno stepped up. “Phil, this is Big Jim McNamara and his partner, Steve Wolf.”

  Phil Garth stared at Mac. “I know McNamara. We’ve met.”

  Mac gave an acknowledging nod.

  “I hope you both realize that this is a police matter,” Phil Garth said. “And not some SEAL Team Six mission. You too, Reno.”

  His brother seemed embarrassed.

  “The SEALs are Navy,” McNamara said. “I was Special Forces. Army. Green Berets.”

  “Whatever,” Phil Garth said. “Just stay out of it. And we are working that phone lead.”

  Manny stared at him.

  “Phil, tell me that you found her,” he said.

  Garth took a deep breath and canted his head to the side. “Look, Manny, I came here as a courtesy because of your friendship with my little brother, but as I explained before, this is out of my jurisdiction. We gave the information to the State Police regarding the phone, and I’m s
ure they’re doing due diligence looking into it.”

  Wolf felt a twinge of amusement at him referring to Reno as his “little brother.” Reno towered over his brother in both height and width.

  “You said ‘we,’” Manny said. “What can you tell me?”

  “Just that the State Police are working on it.”

  “Aw, dammit, Phil,” Reno said. “Can’t you help us more than that?”

  Phil Garth rolled his eyes and took out his cell phone.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll give my friend on State a call. And I’ve already made arrangements for a squad car to keep an extra watch on this house. If those thugs on bikes come back here, we’ll grab them and shake them upside down.”

  He and the uniformed officer walked over to the parkway by the cars and Garth started punching numbers into his phone. Reno walked after him, his arms jerking to emphasize his words he was speaking.

  The man looks by-the-book, Wolf thought. I doubt Reno’s going to say anything to change his brother’s mind.

  “See what I mean?” Manny said. “They’re moving about as fast as a bunch of turkeys prancing around the barnyard, for Christ’s sake.” He paused and bit his lower lip. “Look, you guys seen Glory. You know what she looks like and all. Please. You gotta go after her. Freddie, give them the phone information.”

  Wolf was silently glad that Manny hadn’t referred to his nephew the usual pejorative nickname, Sherman.

  Freddie dug a folded piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and handed it to McNamara.

  “I’ll pay you guys whatever you want,” Manny said. “Name your price. You gotta find her.”

  McNamara looked at Wolf, who nodded.

  “All right,” Mac said. “We’ll do what we can. We can work out the price later.”

  “Thanks, Mac,” Manny said, extending his hand. “I owe you. Big time.”

  “Just find her,” Freddie added. “Please.”

  “We’ll do our best,” Wolf said.

  McNamara clapped Freddie on the shoulder and they told Manny they’d be in touch. They started walking to their car but Wolf grabbed McNamara’s arm.

  “Let’s not rush off,” he said. “Let’s see if Reno’s brother finds anything out first.”

  McNamara nodded and saw Phil Garth and Reno moving back toward Manny and Freddie.

  “Okay,” Phil Garth said. “They do have a lead from a phone ping and are checking it out.”

  “Where is she?” Manny asked, the desperation intertwined in his words.

  Phil Garth hesitated before he spoke. “They didn’t say. And I couldn’t tell you even if I knew. It’s an active police investigation and—”

  “It’s out of your damn jurisdiction,” Manny said. His tone was harsh, but his eyes drooped with an imploring expression as he glanced toward Wolf and McNamara.

  Mac nodded and slapped Wolf’s shoulder, indicating the Escalade.

  As soon as they got in, McNamara settled himself behind the wheel and said, “What did I tell you? That guy wouldn’t say shit even if he had a mouthful.” He took out his phone and started dialing. “If we’re going to take on Satan’s Spawn,” he said, “we’re gonna need some backup. Especially with little Glory involved.”

  “The P-Patrol?” Wolf asked.

  McNamara nodded and said, “Among others.” He put the phone to his ear.

  “But that still doesn’t—”

  McNamara lifted his hand to cut him off as his face stretched into a smile and he said into the phone, “How you doing, darling?”

  Wolf heard the vestiges of a sultry laugh that he was sure belonged to Ms. Dolly.

  After a quick explanation of what was going on and getting an assurance that the P-Patrol was on their way from Vegas, Mac terminated the call and turned to Wolf.

  “Hey, why didn’t you tell me Yolanda quit the team?” he asked.

  Wolf shrugged, still feeling a bit miffed about being summarily cut off before, and now feeling a renewed sense of loss regarding him and Yolanda.

  “I was going to,” he said. “Just didn’t get around to it yet.”

  McNamara twisted the key in the ignition and the Escalade came to life.

  “Explains why you been so damn moody lately,” he said.

  Wolf said nothing. He had no reply.

  “So what were you saying before when I cut you off?” McNamara asked.

  Wolf blew out a slow breath. Being angry at Mac was counterproductive, and besides, Wolf knew, in his heart, that the source of his angst had nothing to do with his best friend and mentor. It had to do with a beautiful lady who was out of his league, and now out of his life.

  “I was saying,” Wolf said, “that we still have no way to trace her. I mean, it’s clear the State Police aren’t going to be giving us anything.”

  “No,” McNamara said, shifting into gear. “But I got me an idea who we might ask.”

  Wolf’s brow wrinkled as he looked at him.

  Who the hell’s he talking about?

  Chapter Ten

  THE GRAND TETONS HOTEL

  PHOENIX, ARIZONA

  It was closing in on eleven as Soraces listened with interest as Dirk talked … Another adjustment had to be made on the board.

  “Like I told you,” Dirk said. “They came back here about twenty-hundred or so. We’d finished dinner and a bunch of us were relaxing in the bar. Wolf and McNamara found us and pulled Buck aside. I was sitting in the next booth with Jill, the chick in the class. She ain’t bad looking and, man, can she drink.”

  He sounded a bit plastered himself, but Soraces knew that Dirk could function with deadly accuracy regardless of how much he’d imbibed. He’d proven that on plenty of ops.

  “Spare me the histrionics,” he said. “What did they say?”

  “I leaned back so I could kind of listen in,” Dirk continued. “They said something about having to pull out of the class. So—”

  “They say why?”

  “I’m getting to that,” Dirk said, obviously a bit irritated at being interrupted. He waited.

  “Sorry,” Soraces said. “Go ahead.”

  Dirk took an eight-count before he started talking again. “They asked Buck if they could borrow some equipment.”

  “What kind of equipment?”

  “Night-vision goggles, and range finders. Don’t interrupt me again.”

  “Sorry,” Soraces repeated, but his mind raced. With that kind of equipment, there was something going on, all right. This could be bad for his plan. If Wolf got hurt or killed before the deal was completed …

  “You’ve got your own night-vision goggles, right?” Soraces said.

  “In my go-bag.” Dirk sounded insulted that Soraces had asked.

  “Did they say anything more about what they had going? Or where?”

  “Not right then, that I overheard.”

  Soraces contemplated this. “You said you put that tracker on their car?”

  “Yeah. But there’s more. After they talked to Buck, they came over to our table. I offered to buy them drinks but they declined. Then they asked Jill if they could speak to her privately. So I went over to Buck and the boys and bought another round of beers. I asked him what was going on and he said Mac and Wolf were having to pull out of the class because of some emergency. I asked him what, and at first he didn’t want to say, but then said something about a friend’s niece going missing. That they had to go find her and bring her back.”

  This jibed with what Perkins had reported with Wolf and McNamara going to the Rylands’ house and meeting with the police. It was either a runaway or an abduction. If it were the latter, it would mean a whole lot of police involvement.

  But then why would two private citizens, albeit bail enforcement agents, feel compelled to go find the girl? The runaway option made more sense.

  “Hey,” Dirk said. “You gonna reimburse me for all this shit? I had to drop a bunch of money on drinks.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Soraces said. “What else you go
t?”

  “Well, after about thirty minutes Buck and the other guys leave. I was finishing up my beer and waiting for Jill to come back. I could see her and them sitting in the lobby, her talking on the phone and then writing shit down.”

  This is getting interesting, Soraces thought.

  “So,” Dirk continued, “when she comes back, I wave her over to a booth and get us another round of drinks. I told the bartender to load hers, and he must’ve thought I was trying to get laid, or something, cause he did. When she was primed, I asked her what was up with Wolf and Mac, and she tells me they wanted her to call somebody she knew on her old department.”

  “She’s a cop?”

  “Yeah. State Police. Retired. But like I said, she’s well preserved.”

  Soraces filed this information.

  “Anyway,” Dirk said, “after another couple of drinks, she loosened up a little more and said it had something to do with a missing person investigation they were working. That’s all I got out of her.”

  That’s enough, Soraces thought. It all fit. Wolf and McNamara were heading back to Phoenix. It was time once again to rearrange a few pieces on the board.

  “Want me to drop out too?” Dirk asked.

  Soraces debated his possible moves, then said, “No, stay where you are for now. We don’t want to create any suspicion that you were there only because of them.”

  “Okay. But what’s the damn plan?”

  “I have Clyde on them now. After they got back from Mesa, they came back to their ranch house, but the lights are still on. I told him to stay on them for the moment.”

  “I bet Clyde loves that.” Dirk chuckled. “Serves him right. Well, maybe I’ll go knock on Jill’s door and see if I can get into her pants.”

  “I’d prefer you didn’t,” Soraces said. “If you want to rent a pro, that’s fine. I’ll reimburse you. But be discreet. Wolf and McNamara are the ones I want you to get close to, not some ex-cop, well preserved, or not.”

  “Ah, I need to get some sleep anyway,” Dirk said. “So far I’m leading the class.”

  “Just stay ready,” Soraces said. “I’ve got to work this out.”