by Rebecca York
Glad to leave the warehouse, Ben picked up his pace as he headed for the door. It was almost evening now, and the sun was just above the treetops on the other side of the river.
When he stepped outside, he saw three uniformed men standing a few feet back from the entrance.
A hard voice spoke. “Stop right there. Hands in the air.”
Chapter Ten
The man who had spoken was Chief Judd. With him were two patrol officers, both young and both looking pleased to be along on this expedition.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Ben said, addressing the chief. “We found a skeleton inside. We think it might be one of the missing girls. Magdalina Sawicki.”
The Chief’s expression hardened. “I said hands in the air, unless you want to get Tasered.”
Ben shuddered and raised his hands. In his present condition, this was all he needed. Beside him Sage did the same.
As he faced the chief, he asked, “What are we charged with?”
“Trespassing.” He read them their rights and asked if they understood.
Ben glanced at Sage who looked as white as the skeleton inside the warehouse.
“Isn’t this a rather extreme reaction?” he asked.
“I’ll be the judge of that. This property has a chain-link fence around it plastered with No Trespassing signs for a reason. It’s dangerous in there, as I’m sure you discovered. You could have gotten injured—or killed. Then the liability would be on the owner.”
As he finished the explanation, the chief peered at Ben. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you went in there to get high.”
Sage started to speak, then closed her mouth.
Judd looked at her. “You were going to say?”
“We climbed up to see what was on the second floor, and Ben . . . got dizzy.”
He suppressed a groan, wishing that Sage had simply kept her mouth shut.
The chief made a huffing sound. “Yeah, right. And what brought you here in the first place?”
Ben answered. “There are gaps in the walls. As we were driving past, I saw something inside that made me think of the dresses that Magdalina left at Mrs. Borden’s when she disappeared.”
“And you know that how?”
“We went over to look through her possessions. With permission,” he added.
Judd gave him an incredulous look. “You expect me to believe that you’re here because you saw fabric that reminded you of that girl’s dresses?”
Ben raised a shoulder. “It’s the truth.”
“What—do you have X-ray vision?”
“I told you, I was looking at the building, and I saw something through the gaps in the walls.”
The man continued to stare at him, his expression incredulous. “This isn’t the road back to town. Why were you out here in the first place?”
“We were taking the long way home, so we could talk in the car.”
The chief kept his skeptical gaze fixed on Ben. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing.”
“Turn around. Hands against the wall. Legs spread.”
Beside Ben, Sage gasped.
“Do what he says,” he advised, hating that the bastard was technically in the right. They had been trespassing. He’d known it, but he’d figured that nobody else would find out about it until long after the fact—and the chief would be glad to get the information about the ceremonial burial inside. Wrong.
His mind raced as he tried to imagine what had brought Judd here in the first place. Then he remembered the cars he’d seen when they’d driven out to Mrs. Borden’s and later. The chief must have had them followed, but not by one vehicle. He’d used tag teams with cell phones to keep each other informed of Ben and Sage’s location. That was certainly going to a lot of trouble, but it was the only explanation that Ben could come up with.
He turned, placed his hands against the wall and spread his legs, glad that he’d left his Sig in the car. The chief did a very thorough pat down. Beside him, Sage got the same treatment, and he heard her make a small sound as masculine hands invaded her privacy.
He ached to turn and slug the guy, but the way these twitchy cops were acting, that would probably get him shot.
When the search was finished, the chief clanked handcuffs onto his wrists, then onto Sage’s.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said to her in a low voice.
“Shut up,” Judd ordered, then grabbed Ben by the arm, leading him around the building. When they reached the front, Ben saw that the previously locked gate was open. Instead of climbing under a section of fence, they walked through and across the field, where two cop cars were waiting.
Ben wanted to ask how the chief happened to have the key, but he kept his mouth shut. Probably he had said too much already, and he’d better wait until his lawyer arrived before saying anything else.
The cops put Sage into the back of one car and him into another. The last glimpse he had of her was her pale, frightened face as they drove her away.
Fear leaped inside him. What if he arrived at the station and she wasn’t there? Or what if neither one of them was going to police headquarters? Judd couldn’t be that stupid, could he?
On the other hand, who would know where he and Sage had disappeared? He watched out the window and was relieved to see they were heading for town.
They arrived at the police station, and he found Sage already waiting in a room behind the desk.
“I’d like my phone call,” Ben said.
“After we book you.”
“You’re kidding.”
“We’re adhering to procedures,” Judd snapped as he unlocked their cuffs.
Ben pressed his lips together. When in police custody, he knew that cooperation was the only reasonable option. No telling what would happen if they gave the cops any trouble, and he didn’t want to provide them with any excuses for getting rough.
Sage’s glance was pleading. All he could do was try to look reassuring.
But he knew how much Chief Judd was enjoying having them in his power.
After Ben and Sage surrendered their personal possessions, they were photographed and fingerprinted, and he suspected the chief was slowing down the process, since there didn’t seem to be any other police business that evening. When the procedure was finally over, Ben had to stiffen his legs to stay on his feet. He’d needed a drink of water before they’d gone into the warehouse. And he’d needed to rest after his session with the skeleton. Instead he’d been subjected to a parade of police procedures.
“Phone call,” he said.
The chief handed him a phone.
Ben glanced at the clock on the wall. It was now after hours at work, which had probably been the chief’s intention when he’d slowed down their processing. Instead of dialing the main number, Ben dialed Frank Decorah’s private line and held his breath waiting for Frank to pick up.
He’d guessed wrong. When the line kicked into voice mail, he cursed under his breath, then left a message. “This is Ben Walker. Sage Arnold and I have been arrested for trespassing on a property at 717 South Town Road in Doncaster, Maryland. It’s a warehouse that’s on its last legs. Can you send Mark Linton down here as soon as possible?” Mark was the lawyer on staff at Decorah.
He looked at Sage. Whom do you want to call?
She gave him a helpless look. “I don’t have a lawyer. There’s no one who would know what to do.”
Ben handed the phone back to the chief. “Do you object to releasing me and Sage on our own recognizance?”
“Yes, you’re a flight risk.”
“For trespassing?”
“We’re going back to the crime scene to see if you’ve destroyed any property.”
Ben glanced at Sage, seeing the panic on her face and hating that this was happening to her. He’d endured worse. He was pretty sure this was beyond terrifying for her, which was why he kept talking.
“The hole in the fence was already there. Somebody opened it up s
o they could get in to leave the body. Aren’t you interested in checking out a homicide?”
“Homicide.” Judd snorted. “For all you know, it could be a runaway who got in there and died. Unless you were the one who killed her and came back to check on the body.”
“If you do a DNA analysis, you’ll find out who she is.”
“What are you, a forensics expert?”
“A former Baltimore City police detective.”
“And you think you know more about running my department than I do?”
Ben knew the chief was trying to provoke him. “No.”
“This way,” Judd said, leading them toward the back of the building. Ben had wondered if there was a cellblock in here. Now he was getting an up close and personal look.
The chief escorted them to two small, dingy cells, separated by three feet of space. Each was about eight feet square with a narrow bunk along the back wall. Next to the bunk was a toilet-sink combination. The cells managed to smell like disinfectant and look dirty at the same time. Ben watched a roach skitter across the floor and disappear under the bunk.
Judd pushed him into one cell and locked the door. Then he shoved Sage into the other. She stood with her shoulders hunched and her head down.
“One of my men will bring you some dinner later,” the chief said. Pausing by the door, he added, “See you in the morning.”
Sage gasped. “Are you saying we’re going to spend the night in jail?”
“Afraid so,” the chief said, sounding pleased with himself. “It’s already after business hours, and we can’t go before a judge now.”
“Wait a minute,” Ben said.
“Tomorrow,” the chief tossed over his shoulder before stepping through the outer door and leaving.
The moment they were alone, Sage turned to Ben, panic on her face.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said.
“This place is awful.”
“I know. But we won’t be here long,” he answered reassuringly.
“Overnight.”
Ben turned toward her and thrust his hand through the bars. Sage did the same and their hands connected. It was an awkward way to touch, but it was the best he could do. For now. Later he would hold her tight and hope he could wipe the memory of this experience out of her mind.
“I’m sorry you’re here,” he said as he clasped her hand. “I didn’t know the chief was having us followed.”
“He was?”
“Yeah. I figured it out too late. After he showed up. He had several cars keeping track of us. One would take over from the next, so I didn’t catch on right away. Sorry.”
She squeezed his hand. “I’m not blaming you.”
“We shouldn’t have gone into that warehouse.” He gave her a probing look, hoping he was warning her not to talk about his episode with the body.
She nodded.
He squeezed her hand tighter. “We might as well lie down.”
She looked back toward the narrow bunk. “That bed is probably filthy.”
“Better than the floor.”
“Is it?”
He squeezed her hand, then let go. “I need a drink, and I need to lie down.”
She gave him a critical look. “Sorry. I know . . .” She let her voice trail off.
“They’re probably hoping we’ll say something they can use against us,” he said.
She nodded.
He cupped his hands and drank water from the sink, then took the scratchy blanket off the thin mattress and lay down. Sage was still standing by the bars.
“Try to sleep,” he advised.
“I don’t think I can. Are they going to keep the lights on all night?”
“Probably.”
He flopped onto the bed. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m done in.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
He could hear Sage rustling around. Looking up, he saw her unfold the blanket, lie down on her side with her knees pulled up and cover herself. She looked so forlorn that his stomach knotted, but there was nothing he could do for her. And when he thought about it, the cell reminded him too much of the brig on the Windward. Where he’d sent Bruno Del Conte’s slaves who were misbehaving.
Now he was the one in a cell, and he couldn’t help thinking of it as poetic justice. He didn’t want to dwell on that. Which meant his best option was to get some sleep. Closing his eyes, he turned toward the wall, trying to block out the light. He was so exhausted from his trip into the dead woman’s memories that he dropped off almost immediately. It seemed like only moments later when one of the deputies brought in dinner. Bologna on white bread sandwiches and bottles of water.
Sage looked across at him. “How do you feel?”
“Better,” he answered, meaning it.
She looked at the paper plate with her meal. “They expect us to eat this?”
“I’m going to,” he said, sitting on the side of the bunk and taking a bite. “We haven’t had anything since that bagel and coffee this morning.”
She nodded and sat on her bunk, balancing the plate in her hand before taking a bite. She made a face but ate the sandwich, and so did he.
“What time is it?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No way to be sure.”
She gave him a pleading look, and his chest tightened.
“We’ll get through this,” he said.
She kept her head turned toward him but directed her gaze over his right shoulder. “I’ve got to pee.”
“Me, too. You can go first.”
“There’s no toilet seat.”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
He stood up and turned around, but he was still very aware of her in the next cell. When she had flushed, he took his turn, aware of her a few feet away, listening to him.
When he came back to his bunk, she said, “I think embarrassing us is part of the chief’s punishment.”
“I think you’re right.” He hated the way the man was using his power over them, but there was nothing he could do about it. And any show of anger or fear was only going to make it worse.
Getting as comfortable as possible on the bunk, he propped his hands behind his head and cast around for a subject that might take their minds off the long night.
“What was your favorite book when you were a kid?” he asked.
There was a smile in her voice as she answered, “The Wizard of Oz.”
“How come?”
“I guess at first because a favorite teacher gave it to me. When I read it, I liked it. Maybe I wanted to get away from my life and escape to an imaginary land. I read that first book, then a bunch of the others in the series.” She laughed.“I even named my cat Princess Ozma after one of the characters.”
He couldn’t see her face, but her voice had taken on more color.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Red Planet by Robert Heinlein.”
“I’ve heard of him, but I never read any of his books.”
“More escapist literature. It’s a story about a boy who was a colonist on Mars. I’ll bet we both would have liked Harry Potter if it had come out when we were kids.”
“I did like those, even though they were supposed to be for children. I read the first one, and I was hooked.”
“Your turn to ask a question,” he said.
“I don’t even know where you grew up.”
“Chicago. Not far from Wrigley Field. We used to go to the Cubs’ games when we could. We’d sit way up in the cheap seats.”
“But you were on the football team in high school.”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“It fits.”
“I wasn’t a star.”
“But you were good,” she said firmly, then asked, “What was your first job?”
“You mean after working at a fast-food restaurant when I was in high school? I joined the Army right after I graduated. I figured it was a good way to get away from home.”
“You too?”
&
nbsp; “Yeah. I resented my old man’s discipline.” He laughed. “Of course, the Army’s was a lot worse. I was in Special Forces, which is where I got a lot of my training.” He shifted toward her, hoping to take the focus off himself. “And how did a nice girl like you end up as an accountant?”
“It sounded reliable. Not like my mom, dependent on men or working low-paying jobs. I’m detail oriented, and I figured there would always be death and taxes.” Her voice hitched. “Well, I was thinking about taxes. Not death.”
“Yeah.”
“That thing you did with the skeleton.”
“Let’s not talk about it here,” he said sharply.
“Oh, right. I keep forgetting they’re probably listening to us. Do you think the chief will order a DNA test?”
“I hope so,” he answered, thinking he wasn’t going to try and push the chief until Mark Linton got them out of custody.
Now that the conversation had started, Ben and Sage kept talking to each other.
He found out her favorite fruit was raspberries, and her favorite color was blue. And she found out that he liked watermelon and black.
“Black! That’s not a color,” she objected.
“I can’t help what I like.”
“What do you do to relax?” he asked.
“My apartment has a big window with a southern exposure. I have a lot of plants.”
“What kind?”
“I love orchids. I have a lot of them.”
“You’re not home to water them.”
“They don’t need much water. Besides, a neighbor will do it for me.”
She went on to talk about her collection, and he smiled as he listened to the enthusiasm in her voice. The conversation was keeping her mind off the nastiness of the night. But he knew that as soon as they got out of here, she was going to try and make up for lost time. She would find her sister or die trying. And he prayed the latter wasn’t going to be the case.
oOo
Laurel was sleeping when she heard the outer door open. She wished she had a watch. She had the feeling it was very late at night or early in the morning, but she had no way of knowing for sure. Her waking and sleep cycle was all screwed up.
She heard Mr. Hood banging around out there. Usually he took his time about coming in. Today he came barreling into her room only a few minutes after he’d entered the house, and his hood wasn’t on quite straight. He stood in the doorway, panting as he adjusted it. She could see he was upset about something. Something she’d done? Or something in the outside world? She was afraid to ask what was bothering him.