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Distortion (Moonlighters Series)

Page 22

by Terri Blackstock


  He closed his eyes and lay still, waiting for God to tell him what to do.

  CHAPTER 52

  Juliet dreaded going into the Court Street house again. She passed it once, looking through the gates, hoping to see the FBI’s crime scene investigators there, but the courtyard looked empty.

  Now she wished she’d bought two Go Phones and used one to call Michael. No, she wouldn’t need to do that. She could call on this phone. They hadn’t had time to tap it, had they?

  But what if Miller or Amber or whoever else had taken the boys had bugged Michael’s phone? Or Cathy’s? They knew things they weren’t supposed to know. If she took the chance and they found out, her kids could pay the price.

  She parked in a common area near the water, about ten houses down from the Court Street house. She pulled the page with the codes out of her pocket—and noticed with surprise that her hands weren’t shaking. A strange resolve had come over her, filling her with determination.

  She didn’t get out of her car yet. She looked around to see where the kidnappers might be parked. There were no cars parked along the street.

  She blinked back the tears in her eyes. What if the kidnappers murdered her after she got them into the house? Especially after they realized that the FBI had already been there? Was the money even still there? They might have taken it as evidence.

  If they killed her, then Zach and Abe would grow up without either parent. She squeezed her eyes shut. She would gladly give her life if it meant they would be free. Jay or Cathy or Holly could raise them. They would be in good hands. They wouldn’t be homeless; they would still have family.

  But why would the kidnappers ever let them go? If they killed her, they’d kill them too.

  She pulled in a deep breath as if drawing in courage. Think like a detective, she told herself. What has Michael taught you?

  She thought of strapping her gun to her shin, but she knew they would pat her down. She couldn’t take the chance of making them mad. In the end, she left it hidden in her van with her purse. Stuffing a phone into each of her front jeans pockets, she got out of the car and locked it. Clutching only her keys and the page of codes, she strode up the sidewalk, her posture purposeful and confident. She walked beside the walls to the canal and came up in the backyard as she’d done earlier. Then she went around to the front door and waited.

  A few minutes passed, and suddenly Leonard Miller came around the house with a big man—a bodyguard?—with something in his pocket that looked like a gun.

  “Hello, Juliet.” Miller’s was the voice she’d heard on the phone.

  She stared up at him. “Let’s get this over with so I can get my kids back.”

  He smiled. “We have a sniper with an assault rifle pointed at your head at this very moment, as well as a .357 up close and personal, so don’t do anything stupid.”

  She glanced around and didn’t see any place for a sniper to hide, unless maybe they were on a roof somewhere.

  Miller knelt and patted her legs down, then her torso, then her arms. Juliet endured it, praying someone would drive by and look through the gate, see this, and call the police. He took both of her phones and stuffed them in his coat pockets. Apparently satisfied that she wasn’t armed or wired, he nodded toward the door.

  “Open it,” he said.

  She punched in the code on the paper, held her hand up to the print pad, then pressed her forehead against the scanner and let it scan her eye. The door clicked open—which surprised her. Hadn’t Darren told her he was changing the codes? Or had he just added himself and Agent Blue to the people who had access?

  Miller pulled it open and shoved her inside. As the other man stepped in, he closed the first door behind them.

  She smelled their sweat and felt the sour dampness of their skin in the small area, keenly aware that no one could see them now. Holding her breath, she typed in the next code and did the scans again. She pulled the door open and they stepped inside the living room.

  “Bob was a brilliant man,” Miller said. “The security here is amazing.”

  She didn’t have anything to say about her husband. “If you’re looking for the cash, it’s in the back, in the safes. I have access to those codes too.”

  The other man gave Miller a puzzled look. “What cash?”

  “The cash I promised you,” Miller said. “Wait here, Steven. Watch out the window and let me know if anybody comes.”

  Juliet looked at Steven, wondering if he bought that.

  Miller followed Juliet to the back bedroom. The safe doors were closed now. She released the lock and he pulled the steel door open.

  But the safe was empty. Juliet felt a surge of fear, then quickly quelled it. Surely the FBI knew these people would come for it. They had to be watching. She prayed they would show up while she was here, that they would bolt in and arrest Miller and force him to give her kids back to her.

  “Where is it?” Miller bit out.

  Her heart raced. “The other one,” she said. “I must have gotten them mixed up. The cash must be in the other one.”

  He didn’t look like he believed her, but she led him up the hall to the next bedroom and opened the closet. When he saw the safe, he shoved her toward it.

  She tried the codes again, wondering what would happen if this safe was empty too. If Clement and Blue had cleaned out the first one, wouldn’t they have done the same with this one?

  But when the door clicked open, the money was still there.

  Miller raised his fists. “Sweet!”

  He opened a box and bent to count the stacks of cash. Juliet stood back, letting him work. She didn’t care a whit about the money.

  “Now that you’ve got it, it’s time to give me my kids,” she said. “Can you tell whoever’s holding them to let them go?”

  “We have to load these into the van. Do you know how to open the gate?”

  She had seen Michael do it earlier. “I think so.”

  “Then I’ll send my partner for the van and we’ll load it.”

  “And then you’ll give me my kids?”

  He didn’t answer. His eyes were like saucers. “When we get out there to Steven, don’t talk about what’s in the boxes.”

  “No honor among thieves?” she asked.

  He breathed a laugh. “We’re not thieves. I earned this money fair and square. It’s mine.”

  “Does Amber get any of it?”

  He shot her a narrow look.

  “Does she have my children?”

  “Just shut up and help me close these boxes.”

  She did as he said, folding the boxes shut, probably so Steven wouldn’t see inside them.

  Miller led her back through the house and told Steven to get the van and bring it in. Juliet went out and opened the gate. Steven brought the van inside the enclosure, and he and Steven brought out the boxes of money.

  As they did, she scanned the inside of the van, looking for any sign of her sons. Had they used this van to take them?

  She saw nothing, but the wheels were mud-covered. Where could they have taken them?

  When Steven asked what was in the boxes, Miller diverted his attention and had him stand with Juliet, his gun aimed at her through his pocket.

  “Are you one of the ones who took my children?” she asked him quietly as Miller loaded the boxes into the van.

  No answer.

  “I just want to know that they’re okay. Did you hurt them in any way?”

  He glanced toward the van, as if to make sure Miller didn’t hear him. “No,” he said. “They’re not hurt.”

  She swallowed. “Are you a father?”

  The man didn’t answer.

  “Because those two boys just lost their dad a few days ago, and they’re grieving. They’re having a really hard time.” Tears sprang to her eyes, ruining her confident image. “I’m just so scared for them. Did they struggle?”

  “They didn’t even know what hit them.”

  She didn’t like the sound of
that.

  Her voice trembled. “Will you tell them . . . My son Zach is twelve years old. He can be a smart aleck sometimes, but he’s a good kid. Please don’t hold his attitude against him. And Abe . . . he’s only nine. He’s really fragile right now.”

  “Your kids are fine,” he bit out. “Just shut up.”

  When the van was packed, Miller told Steven to bring his car in. Then he locked up the van and the house, opened the gate as Juliet had done, and waited for Steven.

  “How did it work?” Juliet asked in a dull voice. “Did Bob come here himself, or did he unlock things remotely to let you in?”

  Miller just gave her a long look.

  “Of course he did it remotely,” she said. “He would never want to be here, in case things went bad. He would have let you take all the risks, right?”

  Miller’s lips tightened.

  “Was he keeping the cash from you? Is that why he was killed?”

  Miller said nothing, just opened the gate as the car pulled in. Steven got out.

  “All right,” Miller said, “let’s go. I’ll drive the van, and you take the car. She goes in the trunk.”

  Juliet sucked in a breath. “What? I can’t get in the trunk!”

  Steven backed the car up next to the van. It was a blue Chevy Cruze, and the trunk was small. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the car. She thought of screaming, but then they might kill her. She tried to see if anyone across the canal could see her, but the van was between the Cruze and the canal, cutting off the view.

  Seeing no choice, she got into the trunk. It was tight, hard, and uncomfortable, but she could do this if they were taking her to her kids. “You are taking me to them, right? I won’t . . . I won’t tell anyone anything if you just let them go. We don’t care about any of this. Let us get on with our lives. You got what you wanted.”

  Steven closed the trunk, locking her in the darkness. She heard the building’s doors closing, then car doors. The engine started. She tried to record in her mind every time they went over gravel, every bump, every hill, but after a while she lost track.

  What kind of PI was she? Michael would have been able to record every turn in his mind. It grew hot in the trunk as the sun beat down on the car, and sweat dripped from her hair into her eyes. Her neck hurt. She shifted her body so she could keep her head straight. But there wasn’t room.

  The boys were okay. She would know in her bones if they were dead. They were alive. She felt it.

  Oh, God, please let them be alive.

  She prayed that someone would realize that she and her boys were gone. Maybe if the FBI tried to reach their guard, the one who was supposed to be protecting her. Was he dead somewhere, or had they abducted him too? Or had he just walked away?

  And surely Cathy or Holly, who thought she was at the safe house, would try to reach her soon. Would her failure to answer her phone be enough to alert them?

  It could be hours before they realized something was wrong.

  CHAPTER 53

  Cathy tried Juliet’s number again, but she still didn’t answer. Juliet wouldn’t just ignore her phone, today of all days. Not when her life was in danger and so much was going on.

  Cathy tried calling Agent Blue, but there was no answer. Clement didn’t answer either.

  What if something had gone wrong? What if Amber had talked with the transporter by now and learned that someone had impersonated her? What if they figured out it was Juliet?

  Unable to stand it any longer, she searched her mind for a way to locate Juliet. Her computer, she thought. Maybe if she could get on Juliet’s laptop, she could use her iPhone’s Find My Phone feature.

  Jay wasn’t home, so Cathy walked to the back of the house and used the key he kept hidden for family to unlock the back door. It didn’t look like the kids had been home—no backpacks carelessly dropped, no shoes by the door. Juliet and the agents must have taken the kids straight from school to the safe house.

  She heard the garage door opening—Juliet? She ran to the garage’s side door and threw it open. It was Jay’s car. She waited as he drove in, but as soon as he was stopped she pulled his car door open. “Jay, have you heard from Juliet?”

  He shook his head. “No. When I talked to you earlier you said she was going to a safe house.”

  Jackson bounced out of the backseat. “Hey, Aunt Cathy!”

  Cathy bent over to kiss him, then straightened. “Jay, I’m worried about them. She’s not answering her phone. She wouldn’t just not answer her phone. I can’t reach the FBI agents either. I want to get her computer and see if I can track her phone.”

  “It’s probably upstairs.”

  Cathy went back in and trotted up the stairs. She could hear Jay downstairs turning on the TV for Jackson. “You watch TV for a while, kiddo, and I’m going to be upstairs helping Aunt Cathy.”

  When Jackson was settled, Jay joined Cathy in Juliet’s room, where she’d sat on the bed with the laptop. She navigated to iTunes and checked to see if Juliet had the Find My Phone app. “She has it. How does it work?”

  Jay took over. “I had to do this a couple of months ago when I misplaced my phone. First I have to sign into her iCloud account.”

  “Are you sure she has one?” Cathy asked. “She’s not the most technical person in the world.”

  “Yeah, she has one. I helped her set it up. Unless she’s changed her password . . .” He went to iCloud, and her computer logged in automatically. “Perfect.”

  A map came up. “Okay, there she is. Looks like . . .” He zoomed in, staring at the screen. “There. She’s on Bellamy Street. Looks like it’s over in that area behind Costco.”

  Cathy felt the veins bulging in her temples. “What’s she doing there?”

  “Maybe it’s where the safe house is. Come on,” he said. “Let’s go find them.”

  “What about Jackson? I don’t feel comfortable taking him, in case this gets crazy.”

  Jay looked toward the stairs, then back at Cathy. “See? I told you this would get dangerous, but no, everybody insisted that all you do is make phone calls and do computer searches.”

  “This is different. We didn’t take this assignment. It chose us. So what’s your point?”

  “My point is that my sister should be answering her phone. You stay here with Jackson. I’ll go find her alone.”

  “No, Jay. You stay with Jackson and I’ll go. I’ll get Michael to help me.”

  He sighed. “You have to have an Internet connection to follow her.”

  “I can tether it to my phone. We can get a signal through that. I know what I’m doing, Jay, and I’m armed. I don’t have time to talk about this anymore.”

  She left the laptop open and took it to her car, and Jay didn’t try to follow her. Settling into the driver’s seat, she used her phone as a hot spot, synced it with the laptop, and checked the screen. The phone wasn’t moving. It was still at the location it had shown upstairs.

  She drove to the location, using the map on the screen and praying that she didn’t lose the signal. When she got there, she saw only a convenience store. She refreshed the computer page to make sure she had up-to-date information. The phone was still there.

  She went in the convenience store and looked around. Juliet wasn’t there, and her car wasn’t outside. She went to the clerk at the cash register. “Have you seen a woman with two boys in here in the last hour or so? The woman has short red hair, and she’s about five-eight.”

  The woman was opening a roll of quarters and seemed intent on peeling the paper off carefully. “I don’t remember seeing her.”

  Cathy found a picture of Juliet on her phone and showed it to her. “Here. This woman.”

  She shook her head. “Nope, sorry. She’s pretty. I think I’d remember that red hair.”

  “Can you check the gas receipts? Juliet Cole. Did she buy gas?”

  The woman got on her computer, clicked through some things. “No, she hasn’t used a credit card here today.” />
  Cathy wanted to scream. She went outside and looked in all directions. Maybe the computer had it wrong. Maybe she was nearby. Across the street or something.

  She quickly dialed Juliet’s number again. “Answer, Juliet,” she whispered. “Pick up the stinking phone!”

  Suddenly she realized what she was hearing: the chorus of “Cathy’s Clown,” the ringtone Juliet used to identify Cathy’s calls. She followed the sound toward the pay phone on the wall. There was a trash can next to it. She dug into the garbage and found the phone . . . still lit up and ringing.

  Why would Juliet have thrown her phone away?

  She wouldn’t. Someone else had put it here so that it couldn’t be used to lead them to Juliet.

  Feeling sick, Cathy got back into her car and called the FBI agents. Finally, Agent Blue answered.

  “Where is my sister?” Cathy said, her voice shaky.

  Blue hesitated. “She’s at the safe house, Cathy. You know that.”

  Increasingly frantic, Cathy told her about finding Juliet’s phone in the garbage. “Has she tried to call you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, aren’t you monitoring her? Isn’t there a guard or anyone—?”

  “Yes, but we haven’t been able to reach him for the last half hour. The cell phone reception isn’t that good where they are. I’ll call again now. Just calm down.”

  Tears filled Cathy’s eyes, and she pictured the top of her head exploding right off. “Find her!” she screamed. “For all we know, Miller took her, took the kids—”

  “Hold on, Cathy. Don’t panic. I’m sure she’s fine.”

  “Don’t panic? You’re telling me not to panic?” she shouted. “Where is that house?”

  Blue wouldn’t tell her, but she promised to do everything in her power to find her. Cathy hung up. Gripping the steering wheel, she dropped her head. “God, if you still listen to me, please take care of them!”

  Her prayer was desperate, and her thoughts grappled with horrors rather than faith. She hoped God listened anyway.

  CHAPTER 54

  Cathy had just met Michael and Holly at his office when Agent Blue called her back. She put her on speakerphone. “What have you found out?” Cathy demanded. “Where is she?”

 

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