by Rusty Ellis
The fear of what Sartori was doing to his daughter and the possibility it could escalate further with Ransom and Gardner involved tore at his emotions. Without Ransom and Gardner’s involvement he had a chance to get his daughter back safely. But in the long run, he would be a slave to Sartori and Sara would be a forever-pawn. Ransom and Gardner were his only hope if he intended to break away and permanently disconnect from Sartori’s web.
Averett looked over to see Ransom and Gardner walking toward his parked car. If he drove away now, there was a chance Sara would still be safe…and he would continue to work for the mob. With the car still running, Averett reached for the gearshift. He had to make a decision. Ransom made eye contact with Averett and gave him a concerned glance as he reached the bumper of Averett’s car.
45
Leesa pulled into the northwest corner of the mall parking lot. Ransom could see the small crowd loosely gathered around a little red import. The car was parked in the middle of the parking lot—a short distance from the front doors of one of the bigger department stores in the mall.
Ransom spotted Turing’s car on the opposite side of the group, “Over there.” Ransom pointed Leesa in the direction of the car, “There’s Turing.”
Leesa made a wide berth around the crowd and pulled toward Turing’s vehicle. She stopped short and Ransom was the first one out of the car. He looked as Turing simply sat in his vehicle. He didn’t move, the engine still running. It seemed curious Turing hadn’t climbed from his car to make his way over to where his daughter’s car was parked.
Leesa joined Ransom as the two headed in Turing’s direction. As they neared, Ransom made eye contact with Turing and could see a look of indecision on his face.
“Watch yourself,” Ransom offered to Leesa and the two moved out of the direct path of Turing’s vehicle.
Ransom watched as Turing put the car in drive and shook his head.
“Don’t do it, Averett!” Ransom called to him.
The car crept forward as Turing eased his foot off the break.
Ransom called out a second time, “Averett, just talk to us. The only way you’ll get her back and finish this is to talk to us!”
Turing pulled his foot off the gas and pushed the brake, bringing his car to a halt. He flipped the gearshift into park and leaned forward with his head against the steering wheel. Ransom stepped to the driver’s side door and opened it. Turing reached up and turned off the engine, all the while his forehead rested against the steering wheel.
“They have her, Ransom,” Turing fought against the anguish and images of his daughter. Turing lifted his head up and looked at Ransom, tears streaked his cheeks. Through bloodshot eyes, he continued, “I can’t win. I can’t beat these guys.” Another wave of stuttered breathing caught Turing’s throat, “They took my wife. Now they have my daughter. If they knew I called you, they’d kill her. What else would I have to live for?”
Turing returned his head to the steering wheel and embraced the emotions he’d been holding back. Ransom glanced at Leesa, a loss for words seeing a father fighting for his daughter. Ransom took a step toward Turing and did the only thing he could do—he placed a reassuring hand on Turing’s shoulder and let the man release the pain and fear engulfing him.
46
At Leesa’s suggestion, her and Ransom followed Turing back to HQ. Leesa drove several car lanes back while Ransom scanned the road around them for any suspicious movements or counter-surveillance vehicles. Turing had been instructed to pull toward the secured parking garage area of HQ where he could park out of sight of the public. Leesa called ahead to have an officer meet Turing at the entrance and open the gate to the garage.
Leesa pulled into the garage seconds later, confident of Ransom’s skills and believing neither of their vehicles were being followed. Pulling up to the entrance of the garage, she swiped her gate card and waited for the gate to open.
“We’re good,” Ransom offered after making one more sweep through the rear window of the sedan.
Leesa pulled through the opening in the gate and found her spot. Ransom noticed Turing standing near the back door entrance with a tan and brown uniformed Metro officer.
Reaching the back door, Leesa commented to the officer, “Thanks, Sarge.”
The man nodded and opened the door for the three to enter. Leesa walked ahead of Turing with Ransom in tow. She located an unused room with a desk and a phone and flipped on the light. Turing sat across from Ransom and Leesa—a sad hollowness in his eyes. His previous release of emotions in the parking lot looked to have aged him somehow.
Leesa disappeared to retrieve a pad of paper to take notes.
“How are you holding up?” Ransom asked.
Turing shrugged and made eye contact with Ransom.
“Look, Averett. I know you have some really tough choices to make right now. There’s two games to this. A short game and a long game.” Ransom held up his index finger, “First game, you do what they say and you hope they give your daughter back. If they do, you continue to do what they say from now on and hope they keep your daughter out of it. That’s the first option. It’s nothing more than a loop. You already realize that though, don’t you?” Ransom held up two fingers, “Second game, we find your daughter and take down Sartori so he and his crew can’t come after you or your daughter again.”
Turing sat quiet. The information seemed to bounce off him. Ransom rapped on the metal table top with the ring on his right middle finger to get Turing’s attention.
“I, I heard you, Ransom,” Turing said through an emotionless gaze. “I know the right answer. But my only thought is how to protect Sara from this today.”
The door to the room opened and Leesa stepped through cradling three bottles of water in one arm and a notepad and pen in the other. She placed a water bottle in front of each of their seats on the table.
Ransom turned to Leesa, “We were just going over his options.”
Leesa nodded at Ransom and looked at Turing while taking her seat, “And…”
Turing took the water bottle off the table and stood up. With both hands on the water bottle, he stepped behind his chair and began pacing in the small area between the two walls of the room. He left the cap on the bottle as he languished back and forth from wall to wall.
Leesa spoke up, “Talk to us, Mr. Turing. Tell us what you’re thinking so we can work through it with you. We can figure this out together. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Turing continued to pace, an obvious mental wrestling match raging in his head.
“Averett,” Ransom called to get his attention.
Turing stopped and turned toward Ransom.
“Averett,” Ransom repeated lower, “have a seat.” Ransom motioned to Turing’s chair and watched as he took a seat.
The three sat quiet—the only sound an occasional conversation in the hall outside. Ransom sat patiently, Leesa as well, both patient to allow Turing the opportunity to choose the start of the conversation. Both knowing the next words out of his mouth would be the clue as to his plans. The patience was the difference between a solid interview and an average questioning.
“Life,” Turing looked at the top of the metal table. He reached for the water bottle again, this time taking off the cap and drinking a short swig of water. “She deserves her own life, not one controlled by them.”
Ransom and Leesa sat silent while Turing continued to come to conclusions about his and his daughter’s future.
“Since they’ve been in control, they killed my wife and kidnapped my daughter.” Turing looked up at Ransom, “All because of me.”
“You did the best you could, Averett,” Ransom answered. “You did what you thought you had to in order to protect your family. Those crooks live by their own rules and rewards. No one is safe with them, inside or outside their organization.”
The tears in Turing’s eyes reemerged. He raised his arms from his sides and asked, “But what can I do? The only way to get my daughter
back is to continue to work for them and go to court tomorrow.”
“When’s the hearing?” Leesa asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon,” Turing said and shook his head.
Ransom leaned forward and put his forearms on the metal table, “Sounds like we better get to work then.”
47
The binding on Sara’s wrists stung. After being put in the chair, one of the men had cut off the bindings on her wrist—a jolt of relief flowed through her hands and forearms.
Was it over?
The excitement diminished when the man grabbed her arm and taped her wrist to the front of the chair’s armrest, then repeated the same with her other arm.
“Aren’t you gonna tape her ankles?” the driver asked his partner.
“Nah, if she tries to run I’ll give the chair a kick and see if anything breaks,” he laughed.
The previous rush of adrenaline at being kidnapped and tied up had faded. Her energy was depleted and she drifted in and out of sleep.
48
The late afternoon soon turned to evening and nighttime. Ransom had called in a couple of favors and Leesa reached out to Metro’s Organized Crime Unit and Fraud Unit. Turing watched silently from a corner chair, his emotions were spent, a sense of defeat in his eyes. He didn’t notice Ransom pulling a chair up beside him.
“How are you holding up?” Ransom asked and rubbed his right knee. Normally by this time of night, he was well into his bottle of ibuprofen and acetaminophen and had his leg propped up. The way his leg was feeling, he would normally have a bag of ice melting on top of it as well.
Turing shrugged, “How would you feel if you failed your daughter and she was being held by the mob?”
Ransom didn’t respond. The words weren’t meant for him—Turing was beating himself up.
“Sorry,” Turing followed up. “I just feel so helpless. She wouldn’t be in danger if it wasn’t for me.”
“We’re going to find her, Averett. You have something they need and they have something you need. For now we’re at a stalemate.”
“But what about next time. I can’t put her through this again. It would be better if I wasn’t around.” Turing leaned forward in his chair with his forearms on his knees.
“I need you to keep your head in the game, Averett. Sara needs you to keep your head in the game.”
Turing continued to stare at the floor.
“Averett,” Ransom got Turing’s attention. “Your daughter has already lost her mother. She doesn’t need to lose you too. You need to fight for her right now. If you love your daughter, you’ll fight for her, or you can mope and abandon her and hope she lives happily ever after without you. Your choice.”
Ransom stood and limped to where Leesa was sitting and talking on the phone. She tapped on the keyboard in front of her while cradling her phone against her ear and shoulder, “Great, thanks!”
Leesa pointed to the screen and tapped the monitor, “That was someone from the fraud unit. They worked with organized crime and were able to find four different businesses being run by the Sartori family.”
Turing heard the information and leapt from his chair to join Ransom and Leesa.
Leesa touched the computer screen in front of her and slid her finger down the row of businesses in the email she’d received from the fraud detective, “Sartori’s restaurant, his limo rental business, a valet company working out of several of the casinos, and a private charter plane service.”
Ransom stood up and pulled a chair closer to Leesa and the computer and sat down, “He would never take her to the restaurant.”
Leesa nodded in agreement, “Too close to Sartori.”
“The valet?” Turing questioned out loud. “Why would they own a valet company?”
“Besides it being good money, it’s a cash business. Sartori can wash quite a bit of cash through the different valet spots he’s running.”
“That’s a lot of casinos to check out. She could be in any number of hotel rooms or sheds around the properties,” Leesa worked out the possibility out loud.
“Sheds?” Turing repeated Leesa’s last possibility.
Ransom looked at Turing, “We have to keep our minds open on this and take in any possibilities. I don’t think they would risk taking her downtown. Too much foot traffic and too many security cameras on property and in-between properties.”
“The same reason I don’t think they would take her to the limo business. Too many eyes. I’m sure they’re trying to limit the number of players involved,” Leesa surmised.
“That leaves the plane charter service,” Turing sounded desperate as they ran out of pliable options. “Do they have an office somewhere?”
Leesa entered the name of the charter service on the computer and a Post Office Box address popped up.
“Nothing,” Leesa sighed and leaned back in the chair. “He could be housing that plane anywhere from downtown at McCarran International to out at the airstrips just south of town.”
Turing began pacing behind her chair, “How do we find out? There has to be hundreds of hangars out there!”
Ransom pulled his phone out of his pocket and grabbed Leesa’s notepad, “What’s the phone number for the charter service?” Ransom turned the volume up to high so the others could hear the conversation he was about to have without turning on the speakerphone.
Leesa rattled off the number and Ransom called it on his phone.
After three rings, a female voice answered, “Hello, how may I help you?”
“Yes, I’m trying to schedule a charter service for my wife and I.”
Leesa mouthed the word “wife” and Ransom shrugged back at her and smiled.
“Well, sir,” the woman sighed into the phone, “this is just an answering service. I can take a message and have them call you back.”
“Can you tell me anything about their flight schedules at least? We’re trying to catch a flight to St. George.”
The woman sounded irritated at Ransom’s question instead of giving his name and number, “Sir, as I’ve said, this is just an answering service. If you would leave me your name and number I can assure you they will contact you shortly.”
Ransom looked at Leesa and gave a cocky raise of his eyebrow, “Thanks for your help, I really appreciate it. You see, the thing is, my wife has an appointment on the day we’re traveling so I want to make sure we have enough time to get to McCarran airport when she’s done.”
“Again, if you give me your name and number I can pass that along, sir,” she repeated.
“My name’s William Melater. My number is seven-oh-two, five-five-five, two-three-six-eight,” Ransom fought back a laugh. “Thanks again for being so patient with me. I’m sure you deal with a lot of difficult people.”
“Sometimes. Thank you and I’ll have them reach out to you,” she replied. “Oh, and sir, the charter service is out of the North Las Vegas Airport, not McCarran.”
“Thanks,” Ransom finished and hung up.
Leesa was shaking her head. She’d worked with Ransom long enough to not be surprised at his techniques.
“William Melater? Really, Ransom? What, are you still in high school?” Leesa looked at Turing who returned a confused look. “Bill Melater? You know, Bill Me Later? Never mind.”
“So the charter service is out at North Las Vegas. Wanna bet that’s where they’re holding her?” Ransom gave up on his failed attempt at humor and moved back to the task at hand.
Leesa stood and looked at Ransom, “Should we call in the cavalry or take a run at the place?”
“We should be able to handle it. Besides, if we stir up too much dust with extra bodies it may spook them.”
“I’m going with you,” Turing interjected.
“Uh, I don’t think so,” Leesa snapped back.
Turing looked toward the door out of the room, “You’re going to have to arrest me then. I’m not staying here while my daughter could be in a plane hangar just a few miles away!”
Leesa raised an eyebrow at Ransom. He shrugged and turned his attention to Turing, “If you swear you’ll stay in the car you can ride along. We’re just doing a drive-by to see what we see. Got it?”
Turing nodded his head in agreement.
Leesa grabbed her notepad off the table and pointed to the door, “Better hit the bathroom, it’s going to be a long night.”
49
Leesa drove along the north side of the airport along Cheyenne Avenue. She kept up with traffic in the outer lane while Ransom and Turing peered through the chain linked fence and scanned the spaces between the private hangars. The dark tinted windows of Leesa’s sedan concealed Ransom and Turing’s faces from being seen by anyone outside the vehicle. Leesa slowed as they passed by the guard-gated access to the rows of hangars. Ransom could see the taillights of a dark SUV stopped at the glass enclosed gatehouse.
Ransom grabbed a pair of binoculars from between the seats and focused on the vehicle’s license plate. He craned his neck backward as they continued by, “Gianni’s car! Take the next left and park!”
Leesa maneuvered into the left turn lane and pulled off the road to a cutout in the road meant for city buses. Ransom handed her the binoculars to watch the vehicle as it passed through the gate. Turing slid across the seat to get a view on Leesa’s side of the car. Ransom watched as the SUV’s headlights preceded the car through the maze of hangars. The headlights glowed bright against the dim-lit single bulbs out front of each bay’s doors.
The SUV pulled alongside an identical vehicle and the brake lights lit up. The car went dark and a man in a suit emerged from the driver’s seat carrying two paper bags. He disappeared through a door into the nearby hangar.