by Faith Wood
“Shut up and eat,” Remington commanded, perching on a rickety stool by the door. Once attractive, in the dim light she morphed into something akin to a harpy or gargoyle standing sentinel at the threshold of its domain.
“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to pry. But, are you okay? You seem a little . . . different.” Brian peered at her as if intently interested in her, not just what she had to say.
“What does that mean? I’m the same as I was yesterday, the day before, and the day before that—as if it’s any of your business.”
“I dunno—I guess I’m getting the feeling you’re being talked into this whole thing. You just don’t seem like a person who would do something like this . . .”
“You never met me before in your life—how do you know what kind of person I am?”
“You’re right—I don’t.” Brian paused. Even though he didn’t approve of Colbie’s career choice as a profiler, he did manage to learn a thing or two from her days as an officer. She often talked about how to get a suspect to trust her and, in his present situation, he gained an appreciation for her gift to engage a subject as if she were a trusted member of the family. I know you’re looking for me, Colbie . . .
Remington shifted her weight, studying the pathetic figure in front of her, thinking about his question. He was right—she wasn’t the kind of person to treat someone horrifically. She wasn’t a willing party to any of this, but what choice did she have?
“I’m sorry—I went too far. I didn’t mean to get personal.” Brian played his part to the hilt, catching Remington off guard with his apology.
“Forget it . . .” Without word she watched him. He didn’t seem like a bad guy . . .
His only crime was living with Colbie Colleen.
There was just enough time to stop by the precinct before meeting with Kirk. She decided to talk to Kirk before trying to contact Vinnie, and he didn’t sound any too thrilled about the prospect of having anything to do with her. But, Colbie made her best pitch and he finally agreed. If her assessment about Kirk’s being a follower were accurate, she had to count on his being relatively weak in character. That was okay—just the way she wanted it. She was certain she could get to Vinnie through Kirk, but she had to plead her case as an overwrought girlfriend instead of an ex-cop.
Intuition told her Kirk had a tendency toward the emotional, and appealing to him on that level may work. As with anything, it was a crapshoot—nonetheless, her progress over the last few days was significant and, for the first time in the investigation, Colbie felt rejuvenated and encouraged. Every day for the last three weeks, she mentally reached out to Brian with hope he would pick up on her search. Would he feel her trying to reach him? She hoped so—but, since he was so against her being a profiler and her abilities, she wasn’t so sure.
She checked her watch as she pulled into a visitor’s spot in front of the precinct’s door. Ten-thirty. Her appointment with Kirk was at eleven-thirty, so the plan was to catch Sarge up on everything she learned within the past several days. She knew he wasn’t making progress on Brian’s disappearance since he hadn’t contacted her, and although the murder investigation died down some in the press, it was ongoing. This meeting would be a quick in and out.
As she crammed notes in her purse, a large shadow appeared at the driver’s side window.
“Well, well . . . if it ain’t the fabulous Colbie Colleen!”
His tone was unmistakable, and Colbie knew it all too well—it was the one he used when intending to be cuttingly derisive and combative. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with it—or, him.
“Alvin.” She squinted up at him, her left hand shading her eyes. A faint whiff of cheap aftershave wafted in the partially opened window as he stood blocking her door, a gesture that was nothing less than subliminal bullying.
“I suppose you’re here about your boyfriend . . .”
“Your business? I don’t think so . . .” So much for the feigned sincerity the last time she saw him. Colbie focused on stuffing the remaining notes in her bag.
“Any progress?”
“As a matter of fact, I’m making great progress!” She knew an upbeat tone would get under his skin, and she couldn’t resist the opportunity when it so easily presented itself.
“Really? Great progress, huh? That’s good . . . what did you find out?”
“Nothing I’m willing to discuss right now, but I fully intend on busting the investigation wide open soon.”
“I might be able to help, you know—what do you want me to do?” His caustic tone turned calm and sincere.
“Really, Alvin, there’s nothing you can do—but, I appreciate the offer.” Colbie opened the door, pushing hard against his body. He gave way to the force, his face florid with anger.
“I have to go . . .” She locked the car, excusing herself without further conversation.
What a bitch, he thought as he watched her climb the steps.
What a bitch . . .
Colbie studied whom she assumed was Kirk get out of his car, and limp to the front door of the coffee shop. He stopped to read the flier Colbie placed on the front door weeks before, offering no clue or flicker of recognition. He was smaller than Colbie expected, reminding her of a piece of wheat ready for mowing—slender and blond, coupled with a look of ever-present uncertainty. Stick-straight hair brushed his eyebrows, his jaw and chin covered with a pathetic excuse for a beard. The limp threw her—neither Ryan nor Alex mentioned it, so she wondered if it happened after the camping trip. If so, what happened to cause such a pronounced, faulty gait?
Colbie waved from her table in the corner, standing as he approached, extending her hand.
“Kirk? It’s nice to meet you—I’m Colbie.” Kirk accepted the handshake, taking a seat in the recording chair directly across from her.
“I really appreciate your meeting me—I’m at the end of my rope, and I don’t know where to turn. Truth is I don’t know if you can help or not—but, it’s worth a try.” Colbie’s voice caught, lending the perfect credibility to her performance. “I mean, I just don’t get it? Why on earth would someone want to kidnap Brian?” She paused, waiting for his response.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to help you—I didn’t know your boyfriend before the trip.” Kirk leaned back, his fingertips flicking the side of his coffee cup.
“That’s what I thought . . . so, what do you think happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the whole thing doesn’t make sense. Did you have a feeling of anything being—amiss—during the trip? Did Brian seem weird to you?”
“Weird? No, not really.”
Time for another tactic. Colbie’s line of questioning was going nowhere fast. She took a sip of coffee, and sat back in her chair, her eyes misting with fabricated tears—a tactic she perfected prior to her police days.
She sighed. “I knew it would be a long shot—talking to you, I mean. But, you can’t blame me for trying . . . I’m at my wits end, and I just don’t know what to do.”
Kirk shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with Colbie’s emotions. He was always a sucker for tears, and he felt his eyes getting a little misty as he took a little too large of a gulp.
“So, what do you do? I know you can’t tell me anything new, but we may as well finish our coffee, don’t you think?” She lifted her cup as a toast, and took a sip.
“You mean for a living?”
“Yeah—are you doing what you love to do?”
He bit. “No, not really—but, I have to make a living doing something . . .”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, security guard work isn’t exactly the best job in the world. It’s pretty damned boring if you want to know the truth . . .”
“Security guard, huh? Is it dangerous
?”
Kirk laughed. “Dangerous? No—nothing ever happens. All I do is walk around and check doors . . .” Kirk’s body relaxed, indicating he was feeling more at ease.
“Well, I guess it’s better than getting shot at!”
“True.”
“Where do you work?”
“Optimum Security—ever heard of it?”
“No—and, chances are I’ll probably never hear of it again!” Both laughed, lapsing into a momentary comfortable silence.
“It’s funny—Vinnie and I were just saying the other day how much we want to get out of there. The pay’s crap, and the guy who owns it . . . well, let’s just say I wouldn’t care if he disappeared.”
“Seriously? It’s that bad?”
“It’s not bad when we don’t have to see him, but when he’s around I try to make myself scarce.”
“That’s too bad—what a drag you have to put up with that at work. Is Vinnie the same Vinnie who went camping with you guys?” Colbie placed her cup carefully on the table, blotting her lips with a paper napkin.
“Yeah.” Kirk’s fingers tightened on the handle of his cup.
“I was thinking about contacting him, too—do you think he’ll talk to me?”
“Probably not.”
“Really—how come?”
“He doesn’t seem to give a crap about anyone or anything, so I doubt he’s too interested in your boyfriend’s going missing . . . maybe, but I doubt it. If he weren’t my boss, I wouldn’t have anything to do with him.”
Aha! There it is! New information—until then, she had no idea of where Kirk and Vinnie worked, let alone learning Vinnie was Kirk’s direct supervisor.
“Why don’t you quit?”
“I could, I suppose, but it’s a drag having to look for a new job. Beside, I’m only killing time until I can start school.”
“School? What kind of school?”
“Real estate . . .”
“Cool—I thought about buying a house once, but I didn’t have enough for the down payment, so I decided to wait. Real estate is a good investment . . .” Colbie’s voice trailed, her thoughts racing at warp speed.
“Same here—I should be able to start in the fall if everything goes according to plan.”
“I don’t know anything about real estate school, but I would think it’s pretty expensive . . .”
“For me, it is.”
“I know what you mean—everything costs a fortune these days!”
“It’s tough making ends meet and save for school at the same time,” he confessed. “But, at least the security gig has some perks . . .”
“Perks? Really? Like what?”
“Oh, nothing much—once in a while we have opportunities to work private detail, and those jobs usually pay pretty well.”
“I bet!” Colbie glanced at her watch, employing the same technique she used with Alex. “Oh, my gosh—I have to get out of here! I have an appointment in thirty minutes!” She hopped up and grabbed the fanny pack, waiting for Kirk to take the hint.
“Thank you so much for meeting with me. Unfortunately, I didn’t learn much—but, like I said, it was worth a shot.
“Yeah—no problem.”
They parted as Colbie made an excuse of needing to make a call. Cell in hand, she sat on the street bench in front of the coffee shop, watching Kirk climb into his car. Her years as an accomplished interrogator paid off again—no one would ever know there was no one on the other end—only a ruse to buy time while Kirk drove out of sight. The fewer people who recognized her car, the better. She thought about their conversation, realizing there was one bit of information she didn’t get.
Where the hell did he get that limp?
Chapter 12
The meeting with Kirk didn’t yield as much usable information about Vinnie as Colbie hoped—a disappointment because learning more about him was the reason for the meeting. All she knew now was he was Kirk’s superior at Optimum Security, as well as the name of the owner.
Al.
Al? It can’t possibly be the same Al, can it? Colbie flipped through tattered pages of notes searching for her initial insights about Vinnie, as well as her conversation with Ryan when he called her about seeing Remington at the restaurant. She recalled Ryan’s telling her Remington called her dining partner by name, and she was certain the name was Al. But, as tired as she was, she knew she had to verify—it wasn’t the time to rely on memory.
A third of the way down on the first page of the second tablet, there it was—circled three times, and punctuated with three exclamation points. She was right—Remington dined with someone named Al. But, was it the same Al who was the owner of Optimum Security? Could be. Investigating him and his business would be easy enough—a few clicks on Google, and she’d likely learn everything she needed to know. With luck, the company’s website would have a picture of him, and she could have Ryan confirm it’s the same guy. She weighed the possibilities—if the same, she figured, he’s probably in on Brian’s kidnapping. If not, I’ll need to investigate more. Same old, same old.
She turned her attention to Vinnie—unlike Kirk, he may play hard to get if he were the loud, boisterous type Ryan described, or the tough guy Kirk described. Even if each were half right, getting Vinnie to talk with her might be difficult. From what she already knew, merely thinking of his name made her skin crawl with an uncomfortable darkness, and she was certain she wanted to meet with him in a public place.
He already gave her the creeps.
All in all, her investigation was going well, but working only with Ryan had its challenges. When Colbie was on the force, an officer always had her back and there was never a feeling of going it alone. Not so with her investigation—protecting her identity was critical, and without a few more bodies on the case there was a real possibility of blowing the whole thing. It was at times such as these extra bodies would come in handy.
Contacting Optimum Security was at the top her to-do list for the day, but she couldn’t run the risk of her cell number registering on anyone’s phone. Having someone run interference would be a plus, but, since that wasn’t happening, she’d have to make the best of what she had. Earlier that day, she purchased a pay-as-you-go phone from a Wal-Mart on the other side of town—the number would show up on caller I.D., but her name would not. It allowed for the perfect anonymity needed to put the next step of her plan into effect and, if anyone called, she would answer as her alias—Kathy Simonson.
The phone screen illuminated her face as she tapped the keypad, laying bare the puffy dark skin under her eyes, her cheeks a bit more hollow than the previous week. Colbie never was one to primp, but she avoided mirrors more now than in the past. If Brian saw her, she wasn’t sure he’d recognize her—ten pounds thinner, her normally pleasant face shaded with stress.
Three rings. “Thank you for calling Optimum Security—this is Tammy.”
“Tammy, hi—my name is Kathy Simonson, I’m hoping you can help me, but I’m not sure who I need to talk to . . .”
“Well, do you need to hire a security guard?” The voice on the other end sounded sweet and willing to help anyone in need.
“I do—but, I’m not sure what I need. Is there someone I can talk to who can walk me through the process?” Playing someone who doesn’t know much always works.
“Sure—I’ll patch you through to Vinnie Alberico.”
“Vinnie. Alberico? Interesting name . . . what’s his position?”
“Operations Supervisor—he’s been with us for a long time, and he can tell you everything you need to know so you can find the perfect solution for your needs.” The receptionist’s tone changed to one of stark professionalism as soon as she uttered Alberico’s name. Is she part of it? No—why would she be? Still, the thought nagged her.
“Mr. Alberico is on another call, but he shouldn’t be long—do you want to hold?”
“Yes, please—I’m going out of town, so I’d like to get this off my plate, if possible!” Colbie tried to keep the conversation light, her comment meeting with ice.
“I understand—please hold.”
As she waited, Colbie jotted down a quick list of questions to ask Alberico. Of course, she knew the answers to all of them, but she wanted to create a scenario of needing to hire Optimum Security for private detail, and it definitely wasn’t the right time to look like an idiot. If he were on the take, her plan would offer the perfect opportunity to take advantage of her.
“This is Vinnie . . .” Finally!
“Mr. Alberico—thank you for taking my call. I’m short on time, so I’ll get right to the point. My name is Kathy Simonson, and I’ll be hosting a get-together for some very—influential—visitors. I’ll need security detail for three days, and I’d like to hear about what Optimum Security offers. That is, assuming you can help me . . .” So much for the ‘I don’t know how to do anything routine’—her approach with Vinnie needed focus and force. It was time to drop the innocent thing—it got her where she needed to be, but now she needed to whet Mr. Alberico’s appetite. Money wasn’t an issue—at least he would think it wasn’t.
“When you call me ‘Mr. Alberico’ I feel like an old man! Vinnie—my name is Vinnie.”
“Vinnie—thank you. And, you certainly don’t sound like an old man!” She laughed, figuring a little old-fashioned flirting wouldn’t hurt a thing. She knew from Kirk that Vinnie was abrasive, so chances were good he enjoyed a little chest puffing every once in a while.