Simon didn’t look like he was sure he could believe Adam, but the tension in his shoulders relaxed a fraction.
Adam’s phone rang. He snatched it and recognized Ralph Thorn’s number. It hadn’t been twenty-four hours yet. That surprised him. “Hello.”
“I checked you out.”
“Figured you would. Is this a secure line?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Do you have anyone in mind I can turn this video over to?”
“I want to say it’s all good to give it to the Special Agent in Charge.”
“But?”
A heavy sigh came through the line. “I’m just not sure. When I wasn’t clearing you, I was tracking the movements of the guys in the video. Ryan Blanchard is in the hospital.”
“Yeah. He showed up at our safe house ready to do harm. Fortunately Dani outsmarted him.”
“She put him in the hospital?”
“She did.”
“Impressive.”
“I thought so.” Enough chit-chat. “So do I hold on to the video?”
“For now. I want to figure out who the other person is in that room before I start throwing that evidence around. I don’t want to give it to the wrong person and have it disappear. And I don’t want to end up dead either.”
“I understand.” Adam hesitated, then decided to go for it. “I need you to do me a favor if you don’t mind.”
“What kind of favor?”
“I need you to gain access into someone’s house.”
A snort. “I won’t do anything illegal.”
“Then do it legally. I don’t want you to take anything except maybe some pictures. I need to know if this guy has been playing Peeping Tom with my client.”
“Why me?”
“Because you know him. Stuart Harding had cameras set up all over my client’s house. At least we suspect it’s him and I need confirmation. There would be monitors that would allow him to keep track of the cameras.”
“Stuart Harding.”
“Yes.”
“Special Agent Stuart Harding?”
“That’s the one.”
Ralph grunted. “Always thought he was a bit odd. Any ideas on how I’m supposed to accomplish this?”
Adam laughed. “You’re FBI, I’m sure you can come up with something.”
“Right.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“I don’t know why, but yeah, I’ll see what I can find out. And hang on to that video, I’m still checking on a few people.”
“What about OPR? The Department of Justice? Or at the very least, the local US Attorney’s Office?”
“I’m going to send it to OPR. Just double-checking to make sure the person who gets it isn’t Stuart’s golfing buddy or something.”
“Right. Let me know.”
“I will.”
“Thanks.”
26
EARLY FRIDAY MORNING
DECEMBER 12
Simon had had enough. With the danger, the moving, the boredom. But mostly with his mother’s sadness about their inability to live life the way it was meant to be lived. How many nights had she sat on his bed and talked to him, weaving story after story about people who didn’t live like them and that one day he would be able to escape and be happy?
Too many to count.
It was time to go after that life.
Christmas was coming and it was going to be another fiasco if things kept on this way. The adults were trying, but what they were doing just wasn’t working, in his opinion. Stuart needed to be stopped and Simon decided he would have to be the one to do it. And he’d figured out exactly how he was going to get to Stuart.
He glanced at the clock. Three in the morning. Everyone except whoever was on night duty should be asleep. He hoped it was Adam who was awake and not Isaac.
Simon slid from the bed, careful not to wake his mother who slept in the other full bed against the wall. A sharp pain in his stomach made him gasp. He pressed a hand against his belly button and waited for the moment to pass. It finally eased enough that he was able to move.
Even though he couldn’t hear himself or any noise he might make, he’d learned over the years how to be quiet. Thanks to his dad. It didn’t pay to make any sound that might attract his father’s attention, therefore, he simply learned how to avoid it. He removed the batteries from his hearing aids and pushed them deep into the pocket of his sweatpants. No sense in having the dumb things start to whistle and announce his departure.
Simon reached for the end table and, with his eyes on his mother, eased the drawer open. She stirred and sighed, but didn’t wake. Simon reached in and wrapped his fingers around the butt of his father’s Glock, then shoved it into his pocket. It weighted down his sweats and he quickly tightened the waistband’s drawstring. The gun was a little different than Adam’s but similar enough that he didn’t think he’d have any trouble figuring out how to work it. He knew it didn’t have a safety so he’d have to be extra careful.
He snagged his shoes and his hoodie, leaving his heavy coat behind. He hated the thing. In socked feet, he climbed the stairs and paused at the top to shove his feet into his shoes and pull on the hoodie over his sweatshirt. He’d gone to bed in his sweatpants, planning the move on the way to the new safe house. A split-level that smelled like mold. It made his nose itch just thinking about it and he stifled the sneeze he felt building.
Simon peered around the edge of the wall into the living area. Seeing no one, he walked up the next set of stairs to the bedroom he knew Isaac was using.
The bathroom door to the right was cracked. Light filtered through, allowing Simon to see the sleeping man. Isaac dwarfed the double bed, and while Simon couldn’t tell if he was snoring or not, the even rise and fall of his back said he was asleep. Moving carefully, cautiously, using the light from the bathroom, Simon made his way to the end table.
Just what he wanted. Isaac’s iPhone.
He knew that he would only be able to use it on a limited basis, but that was fine. Once he had the information he needed, he’d turn it off. When he found Stuart, he’d turn it back on. He definitely wanted them to trace his movements, just not too fast. Guilt over using the Wi-Fi and leading Stuart to his mother hit him hard. He hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t known they could trace them through the game. His jaw tightened. Stuart had probably planned it that way.
He was still confused how they did it, but vowed not to get on the internet again with the game.
He knew Adam and Isaac would figure out he took Isaac’s phone, but there was no way Stuart would know, so there was no way the man could track him. Confident in his ability to talk Stuart into leaving his mother alone, Simon slipped the phone into his pocket and headed for the walk-in kitchen pantry. When Adam went outside the front door to check the perimeter, he would turn off the alarm for a brief moment.
Simon had watched and learned. With Isaac’s phone, Simon punched in a text to his buddy, Mitchell Lee. He waited for the confirmation vibration and gave a silent nod of satisfaction.
From the cracked door of the walk-in pantry Simon stayed still, barely breathing while keeping his eyes on the alarm panel, waiting for it to indicate it was off. He just hoped Isaac didn’t wake up and discover his phone missing before Simon had the chance to slip out the back door. He grabbed several bags of chips and stuffed them into his backpack. He’d need some fuel before he got to his destination.
Dani rolled over to see Simon’s lump under the covers. She gave a brief smile. He’d flourished under the attention of Adam in the last couple of weeks.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and froze. The end table drawer was open and her Glock was gone. The dread that she’d become so familiar with was back and had settled firmly in her gut.
“Oh Simon, what have you done?” she whispered to the empty drawer. She sank onto the bed next to Simon and reached for his shoulder.
And grasped a pillow. Dani yanked the covers off and gaspe
d. “Simon?”
She threw on her clothes and raced for the kitchen. “Adam?”
Isaac stumbled down the stairs. “Anyone seen my phone?”
Adam opened the kitchen door and stepped inside to rearm the alarm.
Dani absently noted he looked tired. “Have you seen Simon this morning?”
“No, I just got back from checking the perimeter. When I glanced in earlier, he was sleeping.”
“No, his pillows were sleeping.” She ground her molars and forced herself to calm down. “He’s not in his room.”
Adam frowned. “He didn’t come outside, I would have seen him.”
“Did you take the gun from my end table?” she asked Adam.
Adam’s eyes sharpened. “No. What gun?”
Impatience bit at her, but succumbing to it would do nothing for Simon. “The Glock I had. It was Kurt’s and it was in the safe. I took it from the bag and carried it in my purse. When we got here last night, I put it in the drawer of the nightstand.” It was heavy and unwieldy, but she’d felt safer for it.
“Do you know how to use it?”
She looked him in the eye. “Yes. I don’t know what compelled me to do it, but shortly after Kurt’s death, I started going to a firing range three times a week. I know how to shoot and I know how to hit what I aim at.”
“But you had me teach Simon.”
A hint of a smile wanted to break loose. She held it back. “Yes.”
A glimmer of an answering smile graced his lips. “Ah.”
She shrugged. “I’m sorry. And I’m not. Simon needed—needs—a positive male influence in his life even if it is for a short time.” Her frown returned along with her panic. “And now I don’t have the gun in my drawer or Simon in his bed. I need to know where my son is.”
“Is anything else missing?”
“You mean besides my phone?” Isaac asked.
“Yes.”
Barely controlling her panic, Dani hurried back to the bedroom and went through Simon’s stuff. “His dirty clothes are here. His backpack, Nintendo DS system, clean clothes, shoes, and hoodie are gone.” She clutched the heavy coat to her. “Of course he didn’t take this.”
Adam blew out a sigh. “How did he get out of an alarmed house and past me? Because he had to be the one to leave. No one came in here and took him.”
Dani shook her head. “It never occurred to me he’d do something like this. Not that he couldn’t, you understand, I don’t underestimate his intelligence. He’s borderline genius. But I didn’t think he would.” She was rambling, her words tumbling over one another as her fear attacked her. Where had he gone? What was he doing? And how long had he been gone? And had he had help? If so, who? Why? The questions ran circles in her brain.
Adam got on his phone.
Adam tried to figure out how Simon could have gotten past him and decided the kid had waited until the alarm was turned off and then slipped out the door before it was turned back on. He led Dani to the couch and she dropped onto it. He sank down beside her. “Where would he go?” Dani stared at him, the terrified, lost expression nearly his undoing. “Come on, Dani, think. Where would he go?”
She spread her hands. “I don’t know. The only friend he has is Mitchell.”
“You have his mother’s number?”
“Of course.” She gave it to him and Adam passed it on to Isaac.
Who held his hand out. Adam lifted a brow and then remembered. He handed Isaac his phone. “Get someone over to his house, make sure he’s safe and watch for Simon.”
The man stepped aside and dialed the number.
Tears slipped down her cheeks and she shivered, clasping her arms across her stomach. “He’s got to be okay, Adam. He just has to.”
“He will be.”
She bolted to her feet. “You can’t promise that!”
He stood too. “No, I can’t, but I can promise that we’ll do everything possible to get him back.”
“Just like you’ve been doing everything possible to keep us safe?” she lashed back. She slapped a hand to her mouth and stared at him, eyes wide.
Inside, he flinched. He knew Kurt would have backhanded her. And while her words wounded, he simply held out his arms. Shock seemed to hold her still for a second, then she moved toward him to bury her face against his chest. For the next few minutes Adam let her cry, feeling the wetness of her tears through his heavy sweater.
“Come here,” he whispered. He led her back to the couch. She settled down beside him and pulled away at the same time. His arms ached with the emptiness. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to analyze his growing feelings for Dani.
She stood and scrubbed her eyes with her palms and drew in a ragged breath. Then firmed her chin and stared at him. “I’m scared to death, Adam. No. I’m terrified, but I won’t give up. I won’t let them win.” Her fingers curled into fists held tight at her hips. “And I won’t let them have my son.” Adam watched her eyes harden to a coldness that almost scared him. “Are you driving me or am I going alone?”
Dani sat next to Adam in the front seat while he drove with determined purpose. His phone rang and he snagged it. “Yes?” While he listened, Dani watched his face for any clue as to what the call might be about. He glanced at her and nodded. “Great.”
“What?” She pounced as soon as he hung up.
“Our buddy Ralph got a hit off the Lee phone line.”
“What did he find out?”
“Someone—probably Mitchell—sent a fax to the bus depot, supposedly with your signature on it, authorizing Simon’s bus ride.”
She gaped. “What? How—never mind. So we just go to the stop and get him?”
“No, the bus left at 6:00 this morning and it’s only a three, three-and-a-half-hour ride, depending on traffic.”
She glanced at the dash clock. “It’s 9:30 now. Has the bus gotten there yet?”
“A few minutes ago.”
“Too late to send someone to meet him.” She gasped as a thought hit her. “And if we can find out that easily, so can someone else, right?” He didn’t say anything and her heart thudded against her chest. “Stuart won’t hurt him,” she said. “He’ll just use him to bring me to him. Probably.”
“If it’s Stuart that’s after you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I can’t help but think there’s something else going on. I know Stuart works for the FBI and he’s not exactly a standup guy, but Blanchard killed a man in your house. Then he shows up on the boat. Something is off.”
“But what about Stuart showing up at the first safe house? We know now he tracked us through the game. Not once, but twice.” She thought about that. “And if he could do it, so could someone else, right?”
Adam shrugged. “Of course.”
“But who?”
“Whoever knows you saw the murder.”
She closed her eyes. “Kurt is dead, Ryan is in the hospital, Trennan is dead.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Those are the only three I could see from my vantage point by the door.”
“So the only other two who were there are the person taking the video and the shadow by the door.”
“Yes.”
His phone rang again. “Hello.” A pause. “See if you can track him down. They’re probably together.” He hung up. “Mitchell left right before Isaac got ahold of his mother. Any idea where they’d meet up?”
Dani groaned. “No, not really. Since Kurt’s death, they’ve gotten together almost every day. We’ve met at different places or they’ve gone to each other’s house. We live about two miles apart.”
“All right, see if you can find a piece of paper and a pen in here and list all of the places you think they might go.”
Dani searched the glove compartment and came up with a gas receipt and a pencil stub. It would do.
27
Simon avoided the woman who seemed to be looking for him. He’d told her his mother was in the bathroom and that he was waiting on
her. The three-hour ride had seemed to go on forever. He couldn’t relax for thinking someone was going to stop the vehicle and drag him off of it.
But nothing had happened and he now found himself back in Greenville trying to gather his courage to face down his uncle. Simon took a deep breath and headed for the door.
He glanced over his shoulder to see the woman bearing down on him. He burst through the glass door and raced down the sidewalk toward the school where he’d told Mitchell to meet him. Thankfully, the bus station was only about a mile from his school. Getting from the school to Stuart’s house would take a little more thought. He’d worry about that later.
He looked back to see that he’d lost the woman, but was willing to bet that she’d called someone to report him. Whatever.
It took him about fifteen minutes to make his way to the school. By the time he arrived, he felt nearly frozen and wished he’d brought his heavier coat.
He rounded the building, staying out of sight of the road or the main office. Simon slipped up next to the building and shivered.
The low roar of a motor caught his attention and he peeked around the corner.
Mitchell. But what was he driving?
Simon walked out to meet his friend. “What’s that?” he signed.
“Our ride, my man,” Mitchell signed back and grinned. “Hop on.”
“No way.” Relieved, Simon climbed on behind Mitchell and held on tight. The motorized bike was small, but when Mitchell gave it gas, Simon realized it was also quite powerful. He held on to Mitchell with his left hand and moved his right hand in front so Mitchell could see him sign. “Turn left.”
Mitchell did. Simon looked back and noticed the black car. “Turn right,” he signed.
For the next five minutes, he took them on a meandering route. The black car followed, staying back, but keeping pace.
Dread centered itself in his gut. With his right hand, he signed, “Someone’s following us.”
Mitchell gunned the bike and it shot forward.
Simon tightened his grip on Mitchell. “Where are we going?”
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