“Okay. We’re nearly there. Don’t respond to the text.”
“I won’t.” She hung up and told Alex.
“How far away are we?”
“Less than two kilometres. Ignace should be at VPD by now. We’ll soon know where exactly the phone is.”
“Rhodes could be tracking it.”
“And Carey probably has it close,” said Jeri. “Shit.”
Ignace arrived at VPD, Main Street and took the elevator up to Technology and Communications. He wasn’t the only one working tonight. A woman sat with her back to him, at a computer across from him. She looked up briefly when she heard the door open.
Ignace logged in, pulled up the tracking program and entered the phone number Jeri had given him. He watched the small, pulsing strobe on the screen. It was stationary and in moments, he had the coordinates and the address. He moved to the hallway outside the room, pulled out his cell, got Fernice on the line.
“There’s two houses on the property. The phone is in the smaller house near the garage. I’ll let you know if it moves.” He hung up and returned to the room.
Something about the screen the other tech was watching caught Ignace’s interest, so he wandered over and asked her if she knew where the blank logbook sheets were, giving him the opportunity to get a good look at her computer screen.
As he suspected, they were looking at the same corner of North Vancouver geography. The woman barely paid attention to him, so intent was she on the screen.
“They’ve got you working late tonight.”
“Yeah ... Detective Rhodes, Special Op.”
“You been here long?”
“Just got here.”
“Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Adam Ignace, nice to meet you.”
“Wendy Caruthers,” she said, smiling back, then “Sorry, have to get back to work.”
“Of course,” said Ignace, returning to his workstation. He moved out to the hallway once again and called Fernice.
“Bad news, Jeri. There’s a civilian tech up here, says she just got here. She’s tracking the same cell phone. She said she’s working for Phineas Rhodes.”
“Keep me posted,” she said, hanging up and turning to Alex.
“Rhodes has a tech tracking the same cell.”
Alex had driven up to the turnaround just past Batlan’s and back down a few blocks before he pulled well onto the shoulder and cut the motor.
“Give me a minute,” said Alex. He called Kennedy and let him know that he and Detective Fernice, VPD MPU, were working a joint case, missing person, a child named Carey Bolton, abducted by a suspected paedophile ring. At least two police officers were implicated, Ford MacLeish RCMP, Prince George, Phineas Rhodes, VPD. They were doing recon on Ange Batlan, another suspect, and gave the guy’s address in North Van. His next call was to bring in the North Van detachment, warning that there should be absolutely no sirens within one kilometre of the address. Officers were to park two blocks below the address and wait for instruction. It was Saturday night and North Van was dealing with very high call volume including two bad accidents due to fog: one with fatalities. The only available car had just finished a domestic call near Squamish, on the Sea to Sky Highway, and was dispatched immediately. More cars to follow as soon as they were clear.
“We’ve got a wait ahead of us. They’re dealing with two traffic accidents; one with fatalities.”
Fernice’s phone vibrated in her pocket. A text from Ignace:
Just lost cell signal same location.
Her cell phone buzzed again: Ignace.
“I can be there pretty quick.”
“I want to bring in Ignace,” Jeri whispered.
“Do it.”
“How soon can you get here?”
“About fifteen minutes. I’ll use the siren.”
“No siren within one kilometer. Park below the address and stay alert. We just got here and don’t know how many perps we’re dealing with.”
“Is North Van coming?”
“They are, but we’ve got a wait ahead of us.”
“Okay,” said Ignace, hanging up.
“We could disable their transportation while we wait for backup,” said Alex.
“Let’s do it.” They exited the car. The hollow clicks of car doors closing an eerie sound in the dense fog. There was a gravel pathway beside the road, part of the trail that led to the other side of Batlan’s property. The house closest to them was identifiable only by its mailbox at the foot of the driveway, the house itself invisible.
“This house is the closest neighbour,” she said, consulting her phone. “Batlan’s address is on the other side of these trees.”
They continued past a thick stand of trees and stopped at the foot of a wide, red gravel driveway.
They had just started up the drive when a car door close by creaked opened. The sergeants quickly drew their guns and stepped off the gravel into a deep layer of cedar chips. They stopped to listen. Half a minute later, they heard the car door slam shut. The sound decayed quickly. The chips rimmed a hedge of tall laurel trees that lined both sides of the driveway. No sooner had they moved behind the hedge when a cell phone rang close by.
“No,” said a gruff voice. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.” There was another pause. “I’ve got her. She’s in the car.” The sergeants looked at each other.
“I told you. We’ll find him!” Then, after another pause, “Cecil’s driving the kids.”
Footsteps crunched the gravel and stopped near the end of the driveway.
“I told you. I’ve got Melanie.” After a short pause, “The older one too. That’ll be extra.” The crunch of his footsteps receded quickly as he made his way back up the driveway.
Jeri and Alex headed quickly up the path beside the laurel hedge.
Ford found Seth’s cell phone in Carey’s stuffie. Ange tried to stop him, but Ford shoved him aside and punched Carey hard, knocking her out cold. When she woke up, she was in Ange’s car in the garage and her head hurt. All the kids were with her. Except Georgina. And Marie. She remembered that Theo came after dinner and took her away. They were selling all the kids to somebody from Nevada named Dirk. She heard Phineas say they were going to fly the kids out of Langley. Carey knew they weren’t going to let Ange keep her or she wouldn’t be in the car with the other kids. As soon as her head stopped hurting, she would go for help.
The big man with the red face came into the garage. He was talking on his phone. Another man was with him. Carey quickly shut her eyes. She didn’t know his name, but Ange said he was one of Ford’s thugs. Whoever he was, Joy was afraid of him. They were talking about Seth. When they found him, they were going to deal with him.
CHAPTER 39
Jas returned with Kate and Bart but didn’t come into the house. She gave them the keys and told them where the closest corner grocery was. Once she was gone, we brought them up to speed on the plan to look for Seth, then suited up as best we could before we took off.
Traffic was light and Bart pushed it until we were over the Ironworkers Memorial Bridge and climbing Mountain Highway. Visibility steadily declined the further up the mountain we went. I couldn’t help wondering how the hell we were going to find Seth. I looked at Kate. We were in her hands now. She didn’t speak until shortly after Michael announced we were about two kilometres from Batlan’s address.
“Pull over here Bart,” she said.
He immediately pulled onto the shoulder, tucking neatly into a mailbox pull out. The box read 6553.
Without a word, Kate was out of the car and heading up the road.
We piled out of the car and took off after her, walking fast to keep up. She veered off the road into a small clearing. Bart and Michael flanked her. Lucas and I followed close behind.
A short while later, Kate veered again. Now we were in the forest behind the houses on the east side of Marion Way. She seemed to be heading north, although I was
just guessing at this point. We were going uphill.
Beside me, Lucas moved like a cat, constantly scanning the area around us and I did the same, alert to the fact that someone else might be out here looking for Seth. Lucas was right at home hiking anywhere, but then he’d spent his childhood climbing among the Cuchumatán mountains and he loved to hike. Michael was another guy who’d been raised in the mountains. Bart was already panting a little, though it sure didn’t slow him down.
We were still moving uphill when Kate veered again, this time to the right. We were descending now. This terrain was very steep. Kate was forced to slow down. We all struggled to maintain our footing on slippery rocks and tree roots. We continued downward for some time when Kate again veered off, this time to the left, then abruptly stopped.
We gathered behind her. She turned to us and pointed down. She had reached a cliff. It was impossible to judge how high it was.
We fanned out to the left and right, looking for a possible pathway to the cliff base. Michael had gone left and was the first to find a path down. He quietly passed the word along.
“I vote we take it,” he said, after we were all gathered around him at the top of the path. “What do you think Kate? We can always cut back.”
Kate nodded, and moved to start down, when Lucas held up his hand.
“Let me go first, Kate. I’m more sure-footed and you need the insurance. When we get to the bottom, you can take the lead.” She nodded and waited for him to start down then followed him, Bart after her, Michael after him and me last.
It was one of the weirdest experiences I’ve ever had, watching as one by one, my friends disappeared into a blanket of fog, until it was my turn and I too descended. The path down was treacherous and we had to take it slow. It was close to a meter between footholds in some places and at one point, I couldn’t find one. Then, I felt Michael’s hand gently and carefully place my left foot on his shoulder. I continued to hold on tight, resting as lightly as possible on his shoulder, until I found a pocket for my right foot and eased my weight into it. Not long after that, Michael tapped me on the leg, then he reached up and lifted me to the ground. Kate had already taken off to the left, Lucas and Bart behind her and we started after them.
I could hear rushing water, close by. It was eerie not to be able to see the water, only hear it. Large boulders covered the landscape. I kept Michael in my sights as first he, then I, scrabbled around, or over, one boulder, then another.
All of us heard Kate’s loud whisper. “Here.
When Michael and I caught up with them, Bart, Lucas, and Kate were huddled around an unconscious young man. I recognized him from the boat yard. Seth Boyce. His back was against a small section of rock face. It looked as though he’d sat down, then his body slid sideways a little, coming to rest against a smaller outcrop of rock. One leg was tucked under him and the other stuck out awkwardly to the side.
Bart was checking him over. “He’s alive, but his breathing and heart rate are slow—hypothermia. His face is badly bruised. He may have fallen down the cliff face, so another concern is the possibility of a spinal injury. We need to get him to a hospital.”
I texted Alex on his burner and let them know we had Seth and that he was alive, but unconscious.
Seth was wearing a lined jacket, but it was undone. Bart carefully held Seth’s head, while Lucas zippered up his jacket.
I removed my mittens and pulled them onto his cold fingers, then, as Bart held his head perfectly still, I pulled my toque onto his head.
“We can’t call Search and Rescue,” said Bart.
“It might put the kids in danger.”
“Or the police,” said Michael.
“Or us,” I added.
“We’ll carry him out,” said Lucas.
“Lucas is right. We can do it and there’s no time to lose,” Bart said. “But I’d feel a lot better if we could stabilize him in a sitting position, from the head to the base of his spine. We can carry him out on a human chair.”
I had an idea. “How many scarves do we have?” We had four between the five of us.
“If we could find a length of wood, we could secure his head and torso and hips to that with the scarves. Then, we all lift him up and two of us form a chair under him and carry him out.”
Kate stayed with Seth while the rest of us searched for a piece of wood that was long enough to do the job. Lucas found one, about eight centimetres in diameter covered with wet leaves. He tested it and it was strong enough. We cleaned it up as best we could, then set about the difficult task of tying Seth to our makeshift spinal support.
While Bart held Seth’s head, keeping it aligned with his spinal column. Kate, Bart and I carefully moved him away from the cliff face, just enough to ease the wood support down to the base of his spine. The brace was a little too long; it extended above Seth’s head a little, but that was better than too short. Then we moved him out from the face of the cliff a few more centimetres, just enough to ease one long scarf down his back to his hip area, another to the chest area, just below the armpits. Kate and I worked together on the torso scarves, pulling them as tight as we could. Bart continued to hold Seth’s head completely still, his wrists just above his ears on either side, his long fingers fanned out over his neck, while we secured his forehead and then the chin area to the wood brace. We were ready to go.
I sent Alex another text, this one to say we were bringing Seth out and the mailbox number where we were parked. Kate plugged 6553 Marion Way into the Maps app on Bart’s phone and called up the directions on foot—1.5 km across some very rugged terrain.
Somehow, the five of us raised Seth up off the ground. It was harder than I thought it would be, but we used the cliff behind him as leverage and that helped. Bart and Michael were about the same height. They would be Seth’s chair. The rest of us held him steady while the guys locked wrists below and behind him. Kate and I would lead the way, while Lucas walked behind them.
Alex and Jeri found the garage at the top of the driveway and went in through the side door entrance. They found two cars—a silver Suburban and a Fiat. She moved to the Suburban and he headed for the Fiat. She pulled out her flashlight and shone it into one of the windows. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Alex,” she hissed. He was at her side quickly. She moved her flashlight around, as the two of them gazed at the vehicle full of sleeping children. They tried the doors, but they were all locked.
“I count seven,” she said. “If we flatten the tires, they won’t be able to drive it away.”
“But they’ll know we’re here and that could put the kids in jeopardy.”
“Right. We need to take out the driver and get the key, then one of us can drive the kids out.”
Alex’s phone buzzed and he check his messages. “They found Seth Boyce, and he’s alive! They’re carrying him out to the road.”
“They found Seth Boyce! They’re here!”
“No. About two kilometres below us.”
“Thank God. No mention of Search and Rescue.”
“No,” said Alex.
“Nothing we can do now, except pray they make it out safe.” Jeri called Ignace and updated him about the children, gave him their position, a warning about possible perps on foot in the driveway area and the garage and instructions to come up the driveway on the right side, staying behind the laurel hedge. The sergeants left the garage and took up a position close to the side door, alert for the driver and for the approach of Ignace.
Joy stood outside the gatehouse, shivering in the night air. Ange told her to wait there for Fred. He was taking her somewhere. Ange had promised her she would work for him, even after the children were sold. He told her he wanted her to help him raise Carey. He said he’d help bring her boy to Canada and that they could both become Canadian citizens and there would always be enough work for her and enough money to educate her boy. Her boy, only two years old when she was sold. He was nineteen now. All y
oung men at home had to serve in the army. Maybe he was already a soldier.
Fred came through the front door of the gatehouse and grabbed Joy roughly by one arm, forcing her to stumble along beside him until they got to his car. He opened the back door and shoved her onto the seat. She struggled to sit up, but he stuffed a rag over her nose and mouth, forcing her to breathe the fumes. She quickly lost consciousness.
We slowly made our way along the base of the cliff, then came to a fork and took a path uphill. Once we cleared the cliff face, there were no more boulders, although we did have to navigate our way across several fallen trees. One was so big, two of us straddled it and we passed Seth, hand to hand, up, across and over to the other side. It was hard, and it took a while.
We were on this path for ten minutes or so when it levelled out a bit and we all noticed the sound of rushing water. The path veered this way and that and finally it connected with a gravel walkway. The sound of running water, not as loud now, was still on our left.
“We’re heading south,” Kate said, consulting Bart’s phone. “If we can find a decent path heading west, to our right, that should take us to the road.”
After a while, Kate and Lucas took over for Michael and Bart who were exhausted, and I took over navigation. We continued in a southerly direction for what I judged to be about 200 metres and then the walkway seemed to veer west, zigzagging in lazy arcs between north and west.
We wouldn’t have realized we were as close to the road as we were but for a car going by, the glow from its headlights a shimmer of pastel yellow; quickly disappearing.
“What now?” Bart asked. “We can’t risk the road, at least not for long.”
“Go ahead of us and look for an address,” said Kate. “That’ll give us our bearings.”
“Okay” He moved to the shoulder and headed uphill. He was back quickly.
“There’s a mailbox close by with 6163 Marion Way on it.”
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