Tainted Evidence (Evidence Series Book 10)

by Rachel Grant

  “I don’t get it. Why there?” The Hoffman brothers’ credentials had been revoked. They couldn’t get into the parking garage or building. But that didn’t mean there weren’t more White Patriots on the staff.

  Maddie shuddered, thinking of the video footage of her in a box being rolled down the hallway and later crammed into a trunk. That could be Ava this time.

  Maddie put the SUV in reverse. “I’m going after her.”

  “You aren’t trained—”

  “Someone has to. Chase can’t. And Josh—” Her voice cut out. Josh.

  “No word on him yet, Maddie. Chase hasn’t been able to get to the bridge.”

  “He was under it. I saw him go under, and then it…” She backed out of the parking spot, trying to keep her panic under control.

  “I know. Chase had him on the radio.”

  “He hasn’t radioed since, has he?” She should be focusing on maneuvering the parking garage, but she had to know if she could have any reason to hope.

  “The radio could be damaged. Or his eardrums busted. He was damn close to the blast.”

  Damn close meant so close that busted eardrums would be the least of his problems.

  No. She couldn’t give up hope so quickly. But she’d watched a bridge fall on him with her own eyes.

  “I love him, Keith. And I’m going to get Ava back. For him.”

  “Be careful, Maddie. Josh wouldn’t—”

  “No promises.” Maddie hit the End button and dropped the phone into the center console. She’d promised Josh she’d watch over Ava, and she’d failed. She wouldn’t fail him again.

  35

  Ava stared at her dad, who sat in the front passenger seat. He was a White Patriot now. The first thing he’d said once they were out of earshot of the cop was that his being a White Patriot was her fault. If he hadn’t gone to jail, he wouldn’t have had to join the white supremacists for protection in jail.

  She’d argued it was his own damn fault he’d gone to jail, and he’d slapped her.

  Her dear old dad was back.

  And Uncle Josh was under the bridge.

  She held her breath to keep back the tears and focused on the driver. She’d recognized him from photos Uncle Josh had showed her when he warned her about people to watch out for after they were doxed. It was Troy Kocher. The White Patriot who’d creeped Maddie out so much, she’d called Uncle Josh.

  How had Troy Kocher gotten mixed up with her dad? And why were they driving into to the parking garage of the Nielsen building where Uncle Josh worked? The place where Maddie had been abducted.

  Another deep breath couldn’t stop the tears, even though she knew she’d get smacked again if her dad saw them.

  Uncle Josh.

  She’d had no memory of ever meeting her uncle when he started writing to her a month after her mom killed herself. When the letters started arriving, her dad said awful things about him, hinting that he’d run Josh off because he’d been in love with her mom.

  Ava hadn’t known what to believe, but part of her had begun to fantasize that the mysterious uncle was really her biological father, and she’d created a new email account so Uncle Josh could email her without her dad knowing.

  When he’d moved to Portland to take care of her, and he seemed to genuinely care about her, it was every childish fantasy come true. Until she’d read the letter he’d written to Trina, which made her wonder if he really had been in love with her mom too. If he really had been a stalker like her dad had said.

  Was that what her uncle did? Fall in love with women he couldn’t have?

  And then he met Maddie, and a new fear emerged. If he fell in love with a woman he could actually be with, would he still have room for Ava?

  The last months with Uncle Josh had been a mix of hopeful confusion. She had an adult who cared about her, who wasn’t cruel like her dad, or depressed like her mom. He didn’t try to end her friendship with Marcus. In fact, he actively encouraged it.

  He didn’t freak out about her anxiety issues. Instead, he found her a psychotherapist and made her keep regular appointments so she could get the help she needed, and he didn’t shame her for needing medication.

  He didn’t even turn his back on her when she deliberately broke his heart. She’d been unspeakably awful, and he’d never wavered in his care for her.

  A sob escaped. She couldn’t stop it.

  She pulled her knees to her chest in the backseat and held her breath to stop the crying.

  After her dad had slapped her—right there on a public street!—she’d told him she knew what he’d done, that she’d seen him leave his coat under the bridge, and she would see to it that he would go to prison—not jail—this time, for domestic terrorism.

  Her dad had pulled her to his chest as if he was hugging her and said right next to her ear, “Watch your mouth, little girl.”

  She’d screamed and struggled against his chest, but between the sirens and people running to and from the collapsed bridge, no one had paid attention. They were a block away and around the corner from the cop who was stopping all foot traffic to the park, and all the other officers in the area were dealing with the bridge collapse.

  “Don’t cry, baby,” her dad had shouted as he strangled her with a hug. “Everything is gonna be just fine.”

  Then Kocher had appeared, and her dad loosened his grip. She’d thought maybe someone was going to help her after all. But then her dad said, “We need to take her with us. She’s a witness.”

  “I’m not a kidnapper,” Kocher had replied.

  “She’s my daughter. It’s all legal.”

  “No, it’s not!” She pushed out of her dad’s arms and got a look at the guy’s face, and that was when she’d recognized him. Her stomach had plummeted. Troy Kocher would never help her.

  What have I done?

  She was still asking herself that question as the car circled the lowest level of the parking garage, searching for a space. She’d tried to escape the car right after her dad shoved her inside, but the child locks were engaged and the power windows locked. She was trapped.

  The garage was awfully full for a Sunday, but maybe they’d allowed White Patriots to park here for the rally. It was a long walk, but parking was limited by the river, and news vans had taken most of the street spots.

  Uncle Josh said he wasn’t certain what side Cliff Nielsen the fourth was on, but given his family’s connection to the Kochers, and the fact that the neo-Nazi driver had some kind of pass that got him into the garage, it didn’t look good.

  Did that matter now that Uncle Josh could be dead?

  But he wasn’t dead. He can’t be.

  She had to believe that. She wouldn’t lose another person. Uncle Josh had promised her.

  She gripped her purse. The tracker was still there, inside the lining where Uncle Josh had hidden it. But Chase was probably helping first responders at the bridge. He had first aid training. He told her he’d been an EMT before he’d gone to the police academy and then was hired by Raptor. He was needed there. Maybe he could save Uncle Josh and the others who’d been under the bridge.

  Chase wouldn’t be able to come after her, and the police were busy at the bridge too.

  Only Maddie would realize she was missing, but she had to be worried about Uncle Josh. Maddie was probably helping dig through the rubble, as Ava had wanted to do.

  Ava swiped at a tear. She should have stayed with Maddie instead of running off. Why didn’t she stay with Maddie?

  She didn’t even know why. It had just been…impossible to stay in that hotel room one second longer.

  Uncle Josh. The dad she’d always wanted.

  Now she was stuck with the dad she’d grown to hate. The dad who hated her.

  Why had she opened her stupid mouth and told her dad what she’d seen?

  She’d been in public. She’d never dreamed her dad would be so brazen as to abduct her on a crowded sidewalk. But he had, and no one was coming to save her. She was on he
r own. She straightened her spine and leaned forward. “Why are we here?”

  “None of your business, little girl,” her dad said.

  “Uh, I’m pretty sure it is my business, since you’re kidnapping me.”

  “I’m your father. You’re a minor. Your mama’s dead. No such thing as kidnapping.”

  “You signed over your parental rights.” She crossed her arms. “You have no legal rights over me. Kidnapping.”

  Troy Kocher slammed on the brakes, and the car jerked to a halt. “Wait. What? I told you I don’t kidnap minors.”

  Well, that little qualifier sent her creep-o-meter into the stratosphere.

  She’d known Uncle Josh had been named her guardian, but that was a temporary arrangement while her dad was in jail. Uncle Josh had never told her that her dad had signed over his rights, but she’d found the papers when she’d been snooping.

  Score one point for being nosey, but lose a thousand points for allowing herself to be grabbed by her dad in the first place.

  “Don’t listen to her. She’s lying.”

  “I don’t like this, Warner. This wasn’t part of the plan. We were supposed to grab Foster, not the girl.”

  “Shut up and find a parking spot,” her dad said, “or we’re going to be late.”

  The car started rolling again.

  “How did you get out of jail?” she asked. “You didn’t even serve half your sentence.”

  Her dad turned in his seat so she could see his nasty smile. “Your uncle’s girlfriend wanted you out of the picture, so she asked her brother to spring me.”

  Ava thought her heart would explode as a rush of horror and pain erupted from the center of her chest. She was dizzy. Shook.

  But fresh on the wave of pain, she thought about tea and cakes and Wonder Woman. She remembered a long car ride to the Painted Hills and frank talk of sex and relationships, the kind she’d spent the last two years wishing she could’ve had with her mom. With a flash of certainty as strong as the pain of a moment before, she settled on the truth.

  Her dad always had known how to hurt her. It wasn’t surprising he’d guess her relationship with Maddie was a weak point. Her asshole father was lying. Again.

  But the thing about Maddie’s brother getting him out of jail, that had a ring of truth. The guy was a congressman, Senate candidate, and former attorney. He probably could pull strings. And he’d been the featured speaker at the hate rally, so whatever was going on, it was probably Congressman Tisdale’s agenda her dad was serving.

  But why would Tisdale release her dad?

  Her first guess was to derail Uncle Josh from working the rallies. But then she remembered the explosion, and a new theory formed. Her dad had worked in demolition. He knew explosives.

  Did he know Uncle Josh had been under the bridge when it collapsed? She wasn’t about to tell him. She figured Uncle Josh was the only person her dad truly feared. That he’d feared him all along—after all, he was better, stronger, smarter. He’d been a Navy SEAL and worked for and had the respect of powerful people, including a sitting senator and former US attorney general.

  “You’re just a politician’s tool, aren’t you, Dad?”

  Her dad stiffened. “Shut your mouth, little girl.”

  “Why? Truth hurts?” She didn’t care if he hit her again. Reaching between the seats would make the blow awkward anyway. She reached for her purse and dug inside for her nail file. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. She would fight her father with everything she had.

  Unfortunately, Kocher found a parking space right then, and they came to a halt.

  New fear settled in. Not fear of her father, but of what was next. She took a slow breath, but air wasn’t really filling her lungs. Was this what hyperventilating was like?

  Her father opened his door and slipped out of his seat, then yanked open her door. “C’mon, little girl. It’s time for you to meet Daddy’s new boss.”

  36

  Maddie drove to the employee parking entrance. Josh’s vehicle had the RFID sensor that raised the bar without her needing to show ID, and she hoped she’d be able to get into the building with the same ease. She should have gone back to his hotel room and grabbed his IDs. But time was of the essence, and she had no idea where she would find Ava in the thirty-floor high-rise.

  The GPS signal could pinpoint X and Y coordinates, but Z was anyone’s guess.

  She found a parking spot and tapped more buttons on the computer screen, browsing Josh’s uploaded content.

  Bless his efficient heart, he’d uploaded the building schematic into Raptor’s system. Now she just needed to know how to use this information. She called Trina’s number again, and Keith answered.

  “We’ve got maps of all the floors at Nielsen Tower,” she said without preamble.

  “Josh is always thorough. I bet he also looked for ways to exploit the security system from the inside—to find out if the Hoffman brothers still had a way in.”

  “You think he created a backdoor?”

  “I’d put good money on it.”

  “How do I find his backdoor?”

  “I’ve already got Mothman combing his files to find it. Are there any headsets in the SUV? It would help if you had one.”

  Maddie checked the glove box and came up empty. She scanned the garage very carefully—feeling a shiver knowing that she’d been placed in a trunk only fifty feet away—and climbed from the vehicle.

  She opened the back to find a cardboard box with green and blue T-shirts and the metal lockbox in which he kept his Raptor gear. She lifted the cover over the front latch and found a number pad. “What’s the combination for the lockbox?”

  “Josh authorized your thumbprint with full access to the SUV. Press your thumb on the reader below the zero.”

  She bent down, looking closer in the dark space—the rear dome light was disabled—and saw there was a small shiny black square just below the ten-key pad. She pressed her thumb to it, and the box clicked, releasing the latch.

  She opened the box and gasped at the assortment of guns and ammunition. “This stuff is all legal?”

  “He’s licensed and trained with all of it, yes. But you’re not, so leave the weaponry alone unless you know how to use it.”

  “I’ve got a pistol he showed me how to use.”

  “Good. Any headsets in the box?”

  “Three, actually.”

  “Good. Put it on and sync it to your phone. You’ve got a Raptor phone, so once it syncs, the headset will work separately.”

  She donned the headset, and it powered on the moment it was in place, just like her wireless earbuds. A pop-up on her phone screen invited her to pair the device with her phone, and it appeared this was more than Bluetooth sharing with Wi-Fi calling. This was like a mating or a cloning of the devices. The phone then showed which buttons on the left ear were for cellular versus radio, and which on the right were volume, record, and voice text.

  “We’ll use sat/cell calling because the team at the rally is on the radio, helping EMS and other first responders.”

  “No word?”

  “None yet, Maddie. I’m sorry.”

  Tears burned. A week ago, she’d heard this man tell Josh he loved him. Keith had to be in as much agony as she was. “I’m sorry too.”

  “I haven’t given up hope. You shouldn’t either. Now that the dust has settled, helicopters flying over the bridge show it’s a relatively small section that went down—few marchers were on top because the bulk of the group hadn’t reached that point yet—and from the angle of the collapsed section, there’s a good chance there are pockets created by the I-beams. If Josh was close to the concrete foot, he could be fine.”

  “But didn’t the concrete foot crumble?” From above, it had looked like it had buckled.

  “Hard to say, but something is holding the beams at an angle.”

  Maddie held on to that thought. There were dozens of people who were working to find and save Josh right thi
s moment. She closed the lid of the lockbox and the rear door of the SUV.

  She needed to study the building maps and focus on finding Ava.

  Josh took a deep breath and immediately regretted it when thick dust coated his lungs. He coughed, making his head throb even more. He needed to get out of here before he suffocated from the dust that filled this tiny air pocket.

  He reached back and grabbed the arm of the man—the beam of his flashlight had showed a thick, hairy arm that had to be male—trapped with him and tugged. From the resistance, he guessed a limb was pinned, but he didn’t have time to finesse this and used all his strength to pull harder, bracing his feet on the steel beam for leverage.

  Had Nielsen Steel made this beam over a hundred years ago? The thought was an irrelevant tangent and a sign of his fractured focus.

  Did Ari have anything to do with the bomb that took down the bridge? Did he have TNT in his jacket? He’d worked in demolition, and he had a grudge against his former employers. He could have stolen explosives from them this morning or even hidden a stockpile before he was arrested.

  While White Patriots had been on top of the bridge, the group below had been a mix of the opposing groups. Who was the target of the bombing?

  He’d promised the counterprotesters he’d protect them. More had attended this rally than the last because they’d believed he and his trainees would keep them safe.

  How many had been under the bridge when it fell? In the moments before the blast, Josh had spotted the small backpack tucked up against the I-beam above, next to the concrete foot. He’d shouted, “BOMB!”

  People ran in every direction at his shout. A moment later, the bomb went off. On instinct, Josh dove for the concrete pillar, knowing next to it would be the safest place if the pillar remained vertical. In buildings during big earthquakes or explosions like this, it was advised to tuck up against the backs of couches or under tables. If the furniture wasn’t crushed by the falling ceiling, safe triangular pockets could be created when beams fell across the furniture.

  Same concept here, except it was a massive steel beam braced on a crumbling concrete foot.