Glancing up, Eryn studied the street. “There’s a coffee shop up ahead. I need someplace where I can borrow Wi-Fi and get these images to Koenig.”
Callan put the car in gear, glanced over his shoulder and pulled back into traffic.
“Hey, dude.”
Callan straightened up in the car seat and held the cell phone to his face. He felt tired and knew that his body hadn’t fully recovered from all the travel the past few days, in addition to the late hours. Some of the old injuries were taking their toll as well because of the sitting and the lack of the exercise regimen he followed to stay limber. Not only that, but the few minutes of intimacy he’d shared with Eryn in the apartment wouldn’t stay out of his thoughts. He kept smelling her and feeling her soft skin beneath his fingertips.
“That was fast. Eryn sent you those pictures just a few minutes ago.” Callan gazed through the windows of the coffee shop. Eryn was standing in line in front of the barista.
“I would say I’m getting back to you so fast because I’m that good, but the truth of the matter is that this guy was really easy to find. I loaded the pictures up into the facial recognition software I have and shoved them through databases. I got an almost immediate return. The places I look, that’s never good.”
Callan shifted uncomfortably at that. “He’s got a record?”
“Big-time, dude. He’s an IRA hitter who got too hot in Merry Old England and evidently came to Las Vegas to cool off. He’s been in Vegas for almost two years under the name Dylan Mott. The Invincible Security Agency is his, lock, stock and barrel. He’s got it set up as an LLC, limited liability company, and even provides his employees a retirement package.”
“Hiding in plain sight.”
“Yeah. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That Mott may be using Daniel’s kidnapping as a means of moving on with his life.”
“What I see when I’m looking through his financial data, Mott was pulling in the bucks, but he was spending them, too. Maybe he was tired of living hand to mouth, got hungry for a big score and maybe he was homesick. He could have seen Daniel Steadman as one last big payout in Vegas before he ran back to Ireland. That’s how I see it. Or maybe he’s going to take an extended vacation somewhere on an island. Either way, dude, this doesn’t bode well for your future brother-in-law.”
“Mott’s planning on killing Daniel.” Callan’s words hung heavily in the muted noise coming in through the car’s windows.
“I didn’t want to say it straight out like that, but yeah. That’s exactly what I’m thinking. You gotta get Daniel back. If this goes through cop channels, he’s going to get burned.”
“I know.” Callan rubbed his gritty eyes. “Can you put me next to Mott?”
“I don’t have anything here. All of Mott’s business dealings with Invincible Security are buried in lawyers and post office boxes. I can’t get a real twenty on him anywhere.”
That was bad news. A sour ball formed in Callan’s stomach.
“However, I do have something to report. You know when I asked you how Mott and his crew got into the bachelor party room and you didn’t know?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, now I know. They had a card.”
“They managed to get one from the hotel?”
“I went there first, too, but here’s where everything gets wonky. The hotel there has individual keycards. Very fastidious about their security, those people.”
“Except for the times they let people get kidnapped.”
“Ain’t that the truth. And they can’t keep out guys like me. Turns out, according to the hotel security, only two key cards were made up. Both of them were made out to Toby Ballard.”
“The best man.”
“Exactly.”
Callan tried that thought on for size and couldn’t quite get the idea to fit. “Toby’s not someone I’d figure for this.”
“Mott could have had a hammer on him, dude. You know this business as well as I do. Ballard may not have had a choice.”
“I know.”
“All Ballard had to do was give up the card at the right moment.” Koenig cleared his throat. “Turns out, Ballard may have had a personal reason to do that. Got something else I stumbled on that might help you wrap your head around Ballard’s guilt or innocence.”
“What?”
“I prowled through Ballard’s Facebook account. Did you know he and Jenny used to date?”
That surprised Callan, then it didn’t. He hadn’t known much about Daniel, maybe a handful of mentions in conversations with Jenny, before she’d told him she was getting married. Usually they’d talked only superficial stuff, just enough to know that they were both alive and if they needed anything. Callan had never needed anything, and he’d provided enough for Jenny that she’d never had to ask. “No.”
“Back in college. Evidently Ballard introduced Jenny to Daniel and the two of them hit it off. I’m thinking maybe Ballard didn’t adjust too well to the breakup. And he’s having to eat a double whammy. Lost a girlfriend and his best buddy all in one fell swoop. Mott may have leaned on Ballard after he found out about the breakup and used him to get the key. Jealousy is a big motivator, my friend.”
“I’m going to find out.”
“Figured you would. In the meantime, I’m digging into Dylan Mott as deep as I can, see if I can figure out some leverage for you that will help you run this guy to ground.”
“Thanks, Koenig.”
“Don’t mention it, dude. After all the times you came in to get me out of some hot zone, I owe you this and more.”
As Callan put the phone away, Eryn came out of the coffee shop with two cups and a small bag. Callan got out of the car to meet her. He took one of the coffees and the bag, then opened her car door with the other hand.
“Koenig came through, but how we handle the information is going to be dicey.”
“Well, they were definitely dating.” Eryn scrolled through the Facebook pages on Toby Ballard’s account. The guy definitely had some guts—or a lack of sense—because several of the pictures showed Toby holding Jenny’s hand or kissing her. That was something, she felt certain, that neither Daniel Steadman nor Jenny were entirely comfortable with.
Callan studied the images on the monitor. Streetlights and neon washed over his face from nearby businesses. Anger tightened his features.
“Is this bothering you? If Toby is part of the kidnapping, your sister couldn’t have known it. Especially not back then.”
Back then wasn’t so far away according to the dates on the pictures. Less than two years had passed between Jenny dating Toby and marrying Daniel. Toby and Daniel had been friends since they’d been in grade school. Facebook had the pictures to prove it. The way people could be seen growing up on Facebook still amazed her.
“That doesn’t bother me. People make mistakes.”
Like Ilsa? Eryn stopped herself just short of saying that and chose not to—with a certain amount of regret. “Then what’s bothering you?”
“In those pictures, Jenny’s happy.”
“She’ll be happy again. Once she’s back with Daniel she’ll be fine.”
Callan took in a deep breath and let it out. His voice was strained as he started to speak. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that happy since we were kids. Not in person. Since I left her in those foster homes, we haven’t gotten to see each other much. It’s always been kind of business between us. I think we talked easier on the phone or through letters than we did face-to-face. We’ve always been kind of uncomfortable in the same room since I left.”
“You wrote letters?” Eryn tried to think of the last guy she’d known that had written an actual letter.
“Yeah. Not much email out where I’ve been. But I wrote to her. A lot. It just never seemed to be enough, you know?”
Looking at the pain in the Callan’s eyes, Eryn’s heart hurt for him. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to leave a kid sister behind
to fend for herself, even it had been the best thing he could do under the circumstances.
“I know. But sometimes, Callan, sometimes you don’t get a lot of choices about what you can do.” Eryn took a deep breath and knew she was going to her Dark Place, a memory that she hated touching on. “When I was fifteen, my best friend, Megan, was being sexually assaulted by her mother’s boyfriend. I found out and I persuaded Megan to tell. I told her I’d tell if she didn’t.” She looked away from Callan, through the windshield, and out at the neon-lit city that promised so much and gave so little. “She told. The police took the man out of the house. But it didn’t work out. Almost a month later, the boyfriend came back to the house. And he killed her.”
“I’m sorry.”
Eryn looked at him. “Sometimes I think if I hadn’t made her say anything—”
“He might have killed her anyway. That’s how a lot of those predators work.” Callan leaned in close to her. “You were fifteen. You did the best you could do in a bad situation. The law failed her. And you.”
“I know. That’s one of the big reasons I got involved in security. I wanted to help protect people.”
“I got involved in the work I do to protect my sister. I understand.”
“I know that playing by the rules doesn’t mean everything is going to be okay. I get that, and I know why you’re out here—why we’re out here.” She fixed him with her gaze. “But if you’re going to tell me that I did everything I could do—if you’re expecting me to believe that—then you’ve got to believe it, too.”
He stared at her for a moment, then he leaned in and kissed her. The hunger was still there, still simmering in her and she felt it resonating in him, but the passion was more gentle this time, though no less strong. After a moment—far too short—he pulled back and spoke in a husky voice. “I will.”
“Good.” Eryn tried to breathe normally and knew it would be a little while before that happened because her heart still banging around like a wild thing inside her chest. “We need to talk to Toby, right?”
“Yeah. But that’s going to be hard. He’s with Jenny.”
“And the LVPD and the FBI.”
Callan nodded in disgust. “Not much chance of slipping in under their radar.”
Eryn thought about that. “If we can’t go to him, we have to get him to come to us. I think I have an idea.”
Chapter 18
Eryn’s idea was simple, but required stealth and a tech boost from Koenig. It started out with burgling Toby Ballard’s hotel room.
After Koenig infiltrated the hotel and reset the hotel room door’s security parameters, Eryn was able to get inside the room with her debit card. They took Toby’s netbook, which was sitting on the small desk, and Callan pulled out the drawers, scattered clothing from the suitcases and the closet, and flipped the mattresses. In less than two minutes, he made the room look thoroughly ransacked.
Looking at the damage, Eryn smiled. “I’m impressed. If I were Toby and I received a call from the front desk saying my room had been broken into and my computer had been taken, and I checked my room first, I’d believe it happened.”
“Good. Let’s go give him a call.” Callan led the way back out of the room.
“Mr. Ballard? I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but this is Amelia Hodges with the front desk.” Koenig had masked her cell phone to show the hotel’s main number on caller ID. Eryn used her most seductive and apologetic voice as she stood in the downstairs lobby.
“What is it, Amelia?”
Toby’s interest in her was immediately apparent. That was one of the reasons she had called instead of Callan. Jenny might have been interested in Toby for a while, but she’d smartened up. Given his Facebook history of conquests, Toby was somewhat superficial when it came to the romance department.
“I’m afraid there’s been some trouble, sir.”
“Evidently it’s a night for it.” Toby sounded tired.
“I believe we have your computer here.” Eryn glanced at the netbook sitting on the small table in front of Callan. Yep, they had it.
“My computer? No. You’ve got to be mistaken. My computer is in my room.”
“Perhaps you should check on that, Mr. Ballard. According to the man our hotel security staff caught sneaking out the back door, he got it from your room. Perhaps you can come downstairs to check it out?”
“I’m on my way.”
“Hey, girl detective, he’s coming alone.”
At Koenig’s declaration in her ear through the Bluetooth earpiece connecting her to the cell phone, Eryn relaxed a little. There was a good chance that Toby would have brought a police officer or FBI agent with him even though those people were there for the Steadman family. If that had happened, she and Callan would have disappeared.
As Toby strode toward the front desk, Eryn moved out of the bar on an interception course. “Mr. Ballard.”
Toby yanked his head around to look at her. “Amelia?” A boyish grin followed immediately afterward.
Lothario or psychopath? Eryn still didn’t know the score on that particular question. Also, fully dressed now, he didn’t recognize her, which was exactly what she’d hoped. “Yes. I thought we could talk in the bar.” She waved toward the entrance to the bar.
Toby led the way toward a back table. “Perhaps I could buy you a drink. As a show of appreciation.” He tried a big smile, but it was the same one he’d used when he’d first met her last night.
The smile vanished when Callan stood up out of the shadows.
Toby glared at Eryn, then turned his attention back to Callan. He tried a different grin. “Big man, what’s going on? The police are looking all over for you. They think you killed some guy.”
Callan was quiet and professional. “We need to talk.”
“About what?” Toby took one step back from Callan. “I’d love to talk to you, bro. About anything. We’re almost family.”
“I’ve been checking into Daniel’s abduction.”
A troubled expression flitted across Toby’s face. “So have the police and FBI. Maybe you guys should compare notes and save everybody some time.”
“I found out the team that got into the suite used your key card.”
Immediately, Toby held his hands up. “Whoa! Slow down!” The smile was gone now and panic was setting in. “I don’t know what you’ve been smoking, but that is not the truth. I didn’t have anything to do with that. Daniel is my friend.”
Eryn admired the way Callan kept everything professional. He spoke in a quiet, nonthreatening tone and let the facts speak for him.
“Besides that, I’ve still got my key card.” Toby reached into his pocket.
Callan reached out and caught Toby’s arm, pinning it close to his body and keeping him from removing it from his pocket. Eryn had already stepped forward to take part but saw that she wasn’t needed. Gently, carefully, Callan took the man’s hand from his pocket and revealed the plastic rectangle.
“See? Still got it. It wasn’t me.”
“Then how did those men get a copy of your key card?”
Toby shook his head, but he hesitated in the middle, then shook his head even more vehemently. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I even believe you about the key card.”
“You need to believe me. We know about Dylan Mott and his crew.”
“Dylan?” The tension on Toby’s face revealed that he knew the name, and that he was afraid Callan’s Dylan and his Dylan were the same. “I know a lot of Dylans.”
“How many do you know that run their own security business here in Las Vegas?”
From Toby’s widened eyes, the question was a direct hit. Desperately, he looked over Callan’s shoulder. The young man had to stretch to do it. His eyes lit with hope. “Hey! Hey, Special Agent Lempke! Special Agent Pope! Here’s Callan Storm!”
Two men in suits had been passing the doorway looking out into the lobby. Both of them were in their late thirties or early forties. They took one look at Callan
and reached under their jackets.
The taller one managed to call out a declaration as he brought out his gun. “FBI! Don’t move!”
By that time, Callan had a large pistol with a long barrel in his hand. He fired immediately and the basso thump of the air-compressed shots filled the immediate vicinity.
Feathered darts, two for each man, struck them in the throat or collar. In the next second, the FBI agents staggered and tried to fight the effects of the drug skating through their systems. Then they went down in loose-jointed sprawls and pandemonium erupted inside the bar and the lobby. The tranquilizer gun had come in Koenig’s care package.
Callan looked back for Toby, but the man had gone. He glanced at Eryn. “Where did Toby go?”
She shook her head helplessly and swore to herself. “I lost him. I was watching them.” She gazed around but didn’t see Toby anywhere. He hadn’t wasted any time departing the premises, but she didn’t know if that testified to fear or guilt.
The excitement inside the bar spilled over into a full-fledged panic that sent several patrols scurrying for the doors or hiding under their tables.
“We’ve got to go.” Callan took Eryn by the arm and hurried her toward the door. “Security’s going to lock the hotel down tight.”
Already in motion, Eryn sidestepped a little and made a frantic grab at the netbook computer and case they’d taken from Toby’s hotel room. She stayed close to Callan as they headed through the door and back out onto the Strip.
“I need to talk to her now.” Callan pulled the car into the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour copy store as he talked to Koenig. Eryn nodded at him to let him know she could get the internet. He kept himself calm, but things weren’t breaking in the pursuit the way he needed them to. There was something he was missing and he knew it. He was dancing all around the string that bound everything together. A kidnapping wasn’t a confined event. There were generally things that bound it.
Best Man for the Job Page 18