We Can See You

by Simon Kernick

  Klaus didn’t look happy, but he didn’t argue, either. ‘This way, please,’ he said curtly, and they followed him inside and through the restaurant. Most of the customers turned and looked their way with interest, and Giant felt strangely important as they were led into an office at the back. Klaus sat down at a desk, pressed a few buttons on a keyboard and brought up a split screen containing two different views of the restaurant parking lot. He clicked on the right-hand one and began rewinding the footage, which Giant was pleased to note was HD-quality, keeping it at a steady speed as the two detectives looked on.

  It didn’t take long for the sky-blue Porsche to appear on the screen as it reversed out of a space.

  Giant told Klaus to slow down the rewind and they watched as the passenger door opened and a woman in a black beanie hat appeared in the shot, definitely pulling something from beneath the back of her jacket.

  Giant let him rewind further, then told him to play the footage forward at half-speed. Now they watched as a woman he immediately recognized as Maria Reyes came into view from the right of the screen, taking out her keys and unlocking her car, while simultaneously checking her phone. As she climbed inside, the woman in the beanie hat came into shot, her head down, moving quickly, until she too reached the car. It was impossible to tell from the camera angle whether she was pulling a gun from her waistband, because she was angling her body slightly away from the camera as she reached round, and then she was yanking open the door and getting in. The Porsche’s windows were tinted, so they couldn’t see what was going on inside, but there was a pause of thirty-seven seconds before the Porsche reversed out and then drove out of shot.

  Giant asked Klaus to get a close-up of the woman in the beanie hat. The image was slightly blurred as he focused in, but even so, she still looked a lot like Brook Connor.

  The other camera showed the Porsche coming out of the parking lot and turning right towards Monterey. The time in the corner said 7.58 p.m., just over twenty minutes ago.

  ‘Do you recognize either of those two women?’ Giant asked Klaus.

  He looked conflicted, and Giant could tell he didn’t want to say, but eventually he nodded. ‘The dark-haired woman is quite a regular client of ours. Her name’s Maria, I believe.’

  ‘Maria what?’

  ‘Maria Reyes,’ Klaus said reluctantly, as if mentioning her name would hex him. ‘The other woman I don’t recognize. She wasn’t in the restaurant tonight.’

  Giant thanked him and walked outside with Jenna. He announced to the uniforms who the likely victim and suspect were and put in a call to the dispatcher, ordering her to get an urgent APB out for Maria’s Porsche Carrera, then he put a second call in to the Chief.

  ‘Are you sure it’s Brook Connor?’ demanded the Chief.

  ‘As sure as I can be.’

  ‘What on earth is she doing carjacking Tony Reyes’s wife?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know, sir,’ he lied, ‘but it’s definitely Maria Reyes, and I’m 95 per cent sure the ‘jacker’s Connor.’

  ‘I’ll take those odds. Good work, Tyrone.’

  When he was off the phone, Jenna looked at him. ‘Where do you think they’ve gone?’

  ‘I don’t know, and they’ve got twenty minutes’ head start on us, so the chances of you and me finding them are pretty slim. But there’s one person we can talk to who might be able to shed some light on things.’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘Who?’

  ‘Maria’s husband. Tony Reyes.’

  32

  Brook was lying on her side in the space behind the front seats of the Porsche. The space was tight, and Brook’s back hurt like crazy, but unless someone poked their head through the window and looked very closely, they weren’t going to see her. Brook still had the gun trained on Maria and had already informed her more than once that she could hit her very easily from the angle she was at.

  Maria was talking to her husband on the phone, saying they needed to talk about Peter, their youngest son, and that she’d be home shortly.

  ‘Okay, Tony’s at home,’ she said, coming off the cell. ‘And I don’t think he’s suspicious. Peter’s been having some issues at college, so it’s not a big surprise that I want to talk about it. But I’m just setting this up for you, okay? Then I’m out of there.’

  ‘No,’ said Brook. ‘We need to leave together. Otherwise I’ll be stuck here high and dry without a car.’

  ‘There’s a back way out of the house,’ said Maria, as she drove up the hill to the house. ‘It’s an emergency exit, in case the police ever come for Tony. You reach it through the outbuilding directly behind the house, next to the back wall. The code to get inside is nine-nine-nine-nine, and there’s a trapdoor in the middle of the floor, underneath a rug. It leads to a tunnel that takes you out the back of the property and up into a copse of trees at the base of the mountain. You can get out that way.’

  ‘It’s still no use to me. I’ll need a car.’

  ‘There’s a car there, hidden in some bushes with a full tank of gas, and the keys are under the front seat. The track next to it will take you back down to the highway.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Brook. ‘But first you need to lead me to your husband, remain there while I question him, then we leave together. After that, you can go straight to Angie’s place or to the police, and I’ll be on my way.’

  ‘Let me go into the house and confirm where he is, while you stay in the car,’ said Maria. ‘Then he and I will talk for a few minutes, I’ll make an excuse – like I need the bathroom – and then I’ll come back out to you, let you know how to find him. You go in, do what you have to do and I’ll leave. There should only be two men up here tonight. One will be on the gate, the other’s usually patrolling the grounds and won’t be in the house.’

  ‘It’s too risky.’

  ‘It’s the only way I’m doing it.’

  ‘I’m the one pointing a gun at you.’

  ‘Then fucking shoot, but that way you’ll never get through the gate and you’ll never get answers out of my husband.’

  Brook knew she had no choice. There was no way she could pull the trigger on Maria. Not now.

  Maria took a deep breath. ‘We’re coming to the main entrance now. I need to stop talking.’

  Brook tensed, keeping her finger firmly on the trigger, knowing that this was the moment when things could go spectacularly wrong.

  The car stopped and Maria waved at someone Brook couldn’t see and said something in Spanish. A few seconds later the car started moving again and they drove inside the gates, turned a corner and eventually stopped.

  ‘Okay,’ said Maria quietly. ‘I’m going into the house now. I will be back soon, I promise. Stay where you are.’

  She got out of the car, shutting the door behind her, leaving Brook feeling vulnerable and alone. Brook stayed as still as possible, only moving enough so that she could see the time on her watch. It was 8.30 p.m. and darkness had finally fallen. Her heart was pounding with anxiety. The minutes passed, each one seeming to move interminably slowly; 8.30 became 8.35; 8.35 became 8.40. Maria could easily have betrayed her to save herself, and Brook wondered if, even now, men with guns were creeping up on the car, ready to put a bullet through her head. Her imagination played tricks on her. She thought she could sense movement, hear the scrape of a foot on gravel; feel the weight of a body leaning against the trunk.

  A shadow moved across the front of the car and Brook almost pulled the trigger by mistake, such was the tension running through her, but then the door opened and Maria got inside, looking just as tense. ‘All right, you need to go now,’ she hissed in the darkness. ‘Go in the front door, turn right down the corridor and take the second door on the left. Tony’s in there, waiting for me to come back, and there’s no one else around.’ She started the engine to demonstrate that this conversation was over and, moving as fast as she could manage, having lain in the same uncomfortable position for the past twenty minutes, Brook lifted the passenger seat a
nd climbed out the door without a word.

  The car reversed immediately and Maria turned it round, before driving around the corner towards the gate, leaving Brook standing in the shadows of the house, feeling horribly exposed.

  There were lights on inside, but nobody around as Brook crept quickly across the courtyard to the front door, opening it slowly while holding the gun in front of her.

  She found herself in a large ranch-style entrance hall with whitewashed stone walls, a large wooden staircase and corridors running off on both sides. She could hear the faint sounds of classical music coming from the right-hand corridor, and she suddenly felt as if she was in some kind of strange dream and this wasn’t really happening to her.

  She took a deep breath and took the right-hand corridor, creeping on tiptoes. Grand, very expensive-looking paintings of landscapes, many of them featuring horses, adorned the walls, and Brook found it hard to believe that someone with such a fine appreciation of art could be the monster that both Chris Cervantes and Tony Reyes’s own wife had made him out to be. And yet it was very probable that this man, with his classical music and his incredible paintings, had arranged Paige’s abduction and Logan’s murder.

  The second door on the left loomed up in front of her and she swallowed. The music was coming from behind it. This was it. Taking a single deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  She saw him immediately: a surprisingly handsome man of about fifty, with a fine head of curly silver-black hair and a beard of the same colour, sitting in a comfortable-looking armchair next to a huge open fireplace. He was wearing suit pants and a dark suit jacket with silver cufflinks. In his hand was a glass of red wine, and when he looked Brook’s way and saw a strange woman in a beanie hat pointing a gun at him, he looked surprised, but not exactly scared.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ he asked, in a very slight Mexican accent.

  ‘You’re Tony Reyes,’ said Brook. It wasn’t a question.

  ‘That’s right,’ he said. The beginnings of a smile played around his lips. It was disconcerting. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘My husband is Logan Harris, and my daughter is Paige Harris. She’s five years old, and I know you’ve kidnapped her. If you don’t tell me where she is, I’ll kill you. Right here. Right now.’ She took a step forward, trying to look a lot more confident than she was feeling.

  ‘You’re the woman I saw on the news today. You killed your husband, didn’t you? That’s what they’re saying on the TV.’

  ‘I didn’t kill him,’ said Brook. ‘You did.’

  Reyes looked towards the door. ‘How did you get in here?’

  ‘Your security isn’t as good as you think it is.’

  ‘Did you use my wife? Because it seems coincidental that she arrives back home, visits the bathroom and then you appear five minutes later.’

  His voice was calm and melodic, and Brook couldn’t help feeling that she was losing control of this conversation.

  ‘Tell me where my daughter is.’

  The gun wobbled slightly in Brook’s hands. There was so much adrenalin pumping through her now that it felt like she was about to explode, but in reality she was confused. Here she was, facing the man she needed answers from, but he wasn’t playing ball. Instead he was staring at her with a look in his eyes that was almost playful.

  ‘Why do you think I know?’

  Brook didn’t want to tell him, for fear of compromising Maria. She owed his wife that much. ‘Just answer the question.’

  Reyes took a sip of his wine and started to get to his feet.

  ‘Do not move,’ hissed Brook. ‘Stay exactly where you are.’

  He ignored her and stood up. She followed him with the gun, pointing it at his chest. They were in a big room and a good twenty feet separated them, so she took two steps forward, trying to show Reyes she wasn’t intimidated as she planned her next move. A warning shot might alert one of his men, but she knew she had to show him that she was serious. A vision of herself and Paige laughing at the beach came to her, followed by the image of Paige that the kidnappers had sent them, dressed in different clothes and looking all alone. If Tony Reyes knew anything, then she had to get it out of him.

  ‘I’m going to give you five seconds to tell me where my daughter is, Mr Reyes. And if you don’t tell me, I’ll put a bullet in your belly and ask again. Soon enough, you’ll tell me.’

  The playful look in his eyes disappeared and they became hard. ‘You’re out of your depth, I’m afraid, Mrs Harris.’

  ‘It’s Ms Connor, and I’ve been out of my depth for the past three days, but do you know what? I’m still here, and right now I’m the one with the gun. Remember that.’

  The music was coming from a speaker on a corner table and Brook walked over to it now, still keeping the gun trained on him. She was about to turn up the volume, to mask the noise of the pistol firing, when the door opposite her opened and Maria Reyes appeared in the doorway, a terrified expression on her face. She was being held in a head-lock from behind by a hard-faced Hispanic man who also had a gun to her temple.

  As Brook turned towards them, the door she’d come in from opened behind her and another Hispanic man stood there, armed with a machine gun, which he was pointing straight at her.

  ‘As I said,’ continued Tony Reyes, slowly pulling out a pistol from under his jacket, ‘I’m afraid you’re out of your depth. Now put the gun on the floor. Slowly.’

  For a moment Brook didn’t move, as she realized, almost with a deep regret rather than fear, that she wasn’t going to recover from this. There were now two weapons pointed at her. She was still pointing her own pistol roughly in Reyes’s direction, but there was no guarantee she’d even get off a shot before she was torn apart by machine-gun fire.

  Out of the corner of her eye she could see the terror on Maria’s face. If Maria was that scared of what her husband would do to her, then what would he be prepared to do to Brook herself?

  In the end, it’s human instinct to try and delay something bad for as long as possible, so she slowly crouched down and placed the gun on the floor, before standing back up and taking a deep breath to prevent herself from hyperventilating.

  ‘Take three steps backwards, away from the gun,’ demanded Reyes, his voice calm and authoritative, just like a cop’s.

  Brook obeyed and he walked over and picked up the gun, placing it in the waistband of his pants.

  Reyes then looked at Maria and shook his head. ‘So, it seems the two of you have been having a nice little conversation about me in the car. So I’m a monster, am I? The man who’s given you everything – money, a beautiful home, two beautiful sons …’

  Maria made a small whining sound. ‘Please, I …’

  ‘Shut up!’ The words were like a slap. ‘I heard everything you said, you treacherous bitch. Everything. And do you know the real irony here? The only reason I put a listening device in your car is because you’ve been acting so strangely these past few days. I knew something was wrong. But until it came on the news today, I had no idea who this Logan Harris even was, let alone that you’ve been sleeping with him and planning to betray me.’

  ‘Please, Tony, it wasn’t like that …’

  ‘I told you, shut up. You no longer have the right to speak. And you.’ Reyes turned to Brook, all the coolness gone. ‘You come into my home and threaten me? Me?’ He struck his chest in a pure alpha-male gesture. ‘Nobody does that, least of all a loud-mouthed whore like you.’ He said something in Spanish to the man with the machine gun. The man slipped away with a nod and Reyes waved his pistol at Brook. ‘We’re going to find somewhere a little quieter,’ he said. ‘Move!’

  He directed her down the corridor until she came to a door at the end, and told her to go inside.

  She opened the door and walked into near-pitch darkness, and a second later a series of strobe lights came on overhead, temporarily dazzling her.

  She was in a large, square room with with two floor-to-ceiling windo
ws that looked out into the darkness. Half the room was completely empty, while the other half was filled with various pieces of brand-new gym equipment. It was cold in there and she shivered, turning round as Maria was also led into the room, a gun still held to her head. Reyes pressed a button on the wall and shutters came down on the windows, then he said something in Spanish to the other guy, who immediately let Maria go. Reyes grabbed her and manhandled her further into the room.

  A few seconds later the guy with the machine gun came in as well, except that this time the machine gun was slung over his shoulder and he was carrying something under each arm.

  Brook’s heart sank as she realized what they were. Rolls of tarpaulin.

  Reyes said something in Spanish to the man and he walked to an empty part of the room and laid each sheet out, so they made a square strip on the floor about ten feet across. He then produced a roll of tape and taped them down.

  ‘Go stand in the middle of the tarpaulin,’ Reyes said to Brook, his face cold and hard.

  Brook hesitated because she knew that if she stood on it, it would be the place where she died.

  ‘Go,’ he demanded through clenched teeth, ‘or I’ll shoot you in your fucking pussy.’

  The urbane middle-aged gentleman listening to classical music, with a glass of wine, was long gone now, and Brook knew there would be no mercy from Reyes.

  Slowly, with her legs feeling like they might buckle at any time, she walked over to the tarpaulin, listening to it crinkle under her feet as she turned round to face them: three hard-faced men with guns, all of whom were now donning clear plastic gloves, while off to one side Maria stood alone, crying and literally shaking with fear – a far cry from the confident, attractive woman who’d walked out of the restaurant barely an hour earlier. It hurt Brook to know that it had been her own actions that had got Maria into this position. But it hurt far more to know that she’d also failed Paige.