by L. T. Ryan
I lunged forward, kicking the pistol and delivering another strike with the tube. This time Sears got his arm around it and pulled me in. We were locked in now.
Anton fumbled about for a few minutes before coming to Sears’ aid. But the kid was so stoned he might as well have been a space cadet. I used my leverage on Sears and kicked Anton in the gut. The guy stumbled back, tripping over the chair he had failed to put back under the table. Anton whimpered after falling back on the table, then smacking his head on the floor.
Sears took the opportunity to lock me up. He had one arm pinned down and threw a couple of blows to the side of my head. I deflected them as best I could, but it wasn’t easy. He reared back to finish me. Mistake. I reversed our positions and had him in a choke hold. He straightened, had me off my feet. With his weight, he slammed me into the back wall. I tightened my grip and added more leverage with my other arm. His attempts at smashing me weakened with each try. He dropped to one knee. Then the other. A few minutes later, I could tell the only thing holding him up was me. I decided to let him go, and he spilled onto the floor.
I picked up the gun, which had an almost-full magazine and one in the chamber. Moving toward the door while catching my breath, I said, “All right, you can come out now, Anton.”
There was no response.
I glanced down at the man on the floor. His face was blue. Eyes bulging and unblinking.
“Anton?”
Still no answer.
I stepped into the room. The window was wide open. Sears wasn’t the only one who slipped away.
31
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day.” Bridget sounded breathless. Maybe stressed or exhausted.
“Same here.” I pulled open a file drawer and rifled through the contents. “Had a hell of a day, Bridge.”
“Us, too.”
“What do you know about Spotlight Security?” It was the company name Sam had given me. And the letterhead on the paper I was looking at.
“I’d have to look into it. Why?”
“I’m not even sure where to start.” I set the folder down on a table and picked up the pistol. How long did I have here before Anton returned with help? Would he?
“At the beginning, I guess.”
Fishing the photo with Marissa in the background from my pocket, I let out a sigh. “You’re not gonna like this. I found a photo at Liliana’s.”
“What kind of photo?”
“On the fridge. Her and Emilia, the happy sisters. Somewhere out in the country it looked like.”
“Okay.” She paused a beat. “And why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because there was someone else in the photo.”
“Lavelle?”
“No.”
“Manny? Anton? Sears?”
“No, no, and no. Look, let me save you time guessing.”
“I hope that you would have done that from the beginning, Mitch.”
“Marissa.”
“What?”
“Marissa was in the photo. I didn’t know… didn’t know what to say. It proved that she was here. That Robbie is out here. This is the closest I’ve gotten to finding him. I guess I panicked and thought if I turned it over, things would go wrong.”
Bridget took a few heavy breaths, clearing the anger before responding. “I’m not happy about this, but it could’ve been worse. And I know this had to have led to something.”
“Why’s that?”
“You wouldn’t tell me otherwise.”
“Good point.” I put the photo back in my pocket. “I went back to the house after we all left.”
“You did what?” A door slammed in the background. “Mitch, so help me, if you disturbed anything.”
“I needed to see if there was anything else. Look, this isn’t related to your investigation. This is my case. My estranged wife. My child!”
She remained silent for a moment. “I know. I know. Look, I’m trying to be patient here. You’re special to me, Mitch, and I want to do what I can to help, but you can jeopardize what I’m working on.”
“Agreed. And if I fucked it all up, I’ll apologize, but first let me continue.”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
I talked through the events of the afternoon and told her about the Durango, the hospital, the help Sam provided, and how it all led me to a small warehouse in the middle of nowhere.
“The connection to all this, Bridge, is that company, Spotlight Security.” I flipped through another folder, confirming the name was the letterhead on most documents. “It’s all over the place here. And the Durango being registered to the same company. But that’s not all.”
“What?”
“Anton and Sears were here.”
The news was shocking enough to make her gasp. “Did they get away?”
“Sorta,” I said. “Anton went through the window. Sears tried to kill me, and after getting a beatdown in Liliana’s house, I wasn’t having none of that.”
“So, is he detained? Can we get to him?”
“He’s still on the floor in the hallway.”
“I need to call Braxton in on this,” she said.
“No, don’t. Come out here and help me review this stuff. Let’s see what we can find before we bring him in.”
“Mitch, this is some bad juju you’re building here. But I got your back. Send me the location.”
I shot her a text with the address of the building. She said she’d be there in ten minutes.
After we hung up, I went back to searching through paperwork. Had no idea what I was looking for, but something had brought me here, and I knew I would find something to help me locate my son.
An incoming call sent my phone vibrating across the table. I scooped it up and answered Sam’s call.
“Got some more info for you on that company,” he said.
“What’d you find? Let me have it.”
“This took some digging man, but I got ownership information.”
“How surprised am I gonna be?”
After hearing the information from Sam, it turned out I wasn’t very surprised at all.
“Mitch?” Bridget’s voice echoed through the chamber outside the room, bouncing off the walls a couple of times.
“Down here,” I yelled back.
Her footsteps grew louder. I listened intently to make sure there was only one set. She appeared in the doorway, holding two cups of coffee. She entered, set one down in front of me.
“Cozy place,” she said, looking back at Sears’ lifeless body. “Shame he had to go so soon. Would’ve liked to have had a crack at him myself after what he did to Manny.”
“Speaking of Manny,” I said. “What happened to him? Didn’t think he’d be out of the hospital so soon.”
“Got word he was checked out of the hospital by his stepfather. Doubt it was this one. Maybe the younger girls’ dad?”
“So is he safe?”
“Braxton tried to get more info so he could send a couple of uniforms to hang out in front of the house. As far as I know, he hasn’t yet. He should be all right, especially now with that one no longer around to try and kill him.”
“Hopefully.” I grabbed my notes from my last call with Sam. “Before I get started, did you guys make any more connections between Sears and Lavelle?”
She nodded. “Spoke with Howerton in Vegas again.”
“Me, too.”
“Yeah, he mentioned that.” She thinned her lips in a way that told me she was aggravated. I reached out to the guy and bypassed her. “Anyway, they worked on the hotel security detail. Turns out, they knew David Lavelle. Not only that, they knew Sears.”
“So, was there bad blood between these guys or something? I mean, we’ve got this web of people all woven together now. Liliana, Emilia and David, now Sears, Anton, and Manny. They all know each other.”
“You think Sears had something to do with David Lavelle’s death?”
I looked past her at the corpse in the hallway. I g
ot up and walked over to him. “Something tells me yes.”
Bridget joined me in the hallway and helped me roll Sears onto his back. I searched his pockets. Came up empty until the last one. I pulled out a keychain with about a dozen keys on it.
“Wonder if there’s locked rooms in here?” she asked.
But that wasn’t what I was focused on. It was the thumb drive that held my interest. I fanned the keys out until it was isolated.
“What’s it say on it?” she asked.
“S-L-S.”
She nodded, making the connection. “Spotlight Security.”
“Sears, Lavelle, Stokes.”
“Who the hell is Stokes?”
“That’s what we need to figure out.”
She pulled out her cell. “I’ll put in a call.”
I reached out and stopped her from dialing. “Something tells me we shouldn’t do that. Not yet. I don’t know if someone on the inside is working this, or what. But let’s hold off.”
“Okay, then hand me the thumb drive.” She unzipped her backpack and pulled out a laptop. “I want to see what’s on there.”
We crowded together in front of the screen as she inserted the drive into an open USB port. The drive was mostly empty, with a few system folders and one other named “FOOTAGE”.
“Guess we’ll start here.” She double clicked the folder, revealing a single file. But it wouldn’t open without a password.
We both looked around the room for a clue of sorts. After a few seconds, I walked back into the hallway and stared down at Sears. The guy was confident. Overly so, I thought. The kind of guy who’d carry a password on his body somewhere. I knelt down and searched him again, making sure not to miss anything. But after searching every possible place, I didn’t find a damn thing.
I walked back into the room and saw Bridget holding up the keychain, grinning.
“What’s that?”
“Rocky Top.”
“What?”
“The password.”
32
Numbness had washed over Molly’s body a few hours earlier and had remained throughout dinner. Throughout desert. And through all the bullshit she’d heard Cal spout to the poor woman who had no idea where her son was.
In some ways, she felt bad for Marissa. But in others, Molly looked at it like this: she had made the decision to join Cal for herself. She didn’t drag another human, especially not one who lacked the awareness to realize what he was getting into, to this place.
Had the compound been good to her, personally? Debatable. She wasn’t shoveling shit. Nobody could claim her as their own. In fact, many there were envious of her position. She was Cal’s personal person. She had access to things that most didn’t. But she envied them all. They didn’t have to live with the constant take and take that Cal put her through. It didn’t matter how much she gave. It was never enough.
She had finished cleaning all the dishes, putting them away, and making the furniture acceptable to Cal when he walked back inside. The howling wind tore through the house, sending a chill through her body. He approached her, the same steady look on his face that he always presented.
“Is there anything I can get you?” she asked.
“Remember that bottle of Woodford?”
“The one you’ve been saving for a year?”
“Yeah. Go ahead and open that.” He started toward the couch, then looked back. “Pour one for yourself.”
She nodded and returned to the kitchen. The good liquor was stored on a higher shelf, so she grabbed a footstool and stood on the tips of her toes as she looked through the cabinet to find the bottle he was looking for. There were several up there, so she made it appear that she was taking her time.
She pulled down the bourbon and set it on the counter. At the same time, she reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a bottle. Sometimes, Cal needed help sleeping. And when he did, the pills in her possession were what settled him down.
The Woodford sloshed in the glass as she poured. The first pill dissolved in a few seconds. She brought the glass to her nose and sniffed, then took a sip. The pill was undetectable. She added a second. Then a third. He’d want another glass, and that would contain pills four through six. Within an hour, he’d be passed out.
Molly had never driven the route to town on her own and had only been there a half dozen times. She had no cell phone with which to navigate. The truck was old and didn’t have GPS. Cal would’ve ripped it out, anyway.
She kept her speed steady right at the limit. In some ways, she wanted to get pulled over, but it would result in more problems than it solved. Molly didn’t need her past catching up with her tonight. She had a mission to complete, and if she did, perhaps her past would be atoned for.
The turns were easy to navigate at first, but the further she got into the drive, the more confusing it became. She thought for a while she was lost and almost turned around. Then she saw a sign for the town. Five miles to go. She was on the right track.
Her thoughts drifted back to the compound. Was Cal still out? The man had a constitution like none other. Six pills would put him down, she was certain of that. But would it keep him sleeping all night?
A shiver traveled down Molly’s spine. Her hands clutched the steering wheel tight enough she lost feeling in her fingertips. She realized she hadn’t thought past the current moment. Hadn’t considered what tomorrow would bring. She couldn’t go back to the compound. Could she?
The thoughts lingered as the lights from town brightened the horizon. A few minutes later, she was there. The lights in the stores were off. The sidewalks deserted. One bar had an open sign flashing. The diehards would be in there. If trouble found her, that’s where she’d run to.
She pulled up to the curb in almost the same spot Cal had parked earlier. All she knew was the direction he’d left in and returned from were the same. Didn’t help narrow things down all that much.
“This is crazy,” she muttered. “What am I doing?”
Another shot of reality burning as it made its way through her. What were the chances she could even find Robbie? Whether she did or didn’t, she couldn’t go back. But that didn’t mean she had endless time. Cal would wake up at some point. And after he checked his bunker to make sure Marissa was still there—if she was still alive—he’d come to town to find Molly.
She was about to exit the vehicle when the bar door opened. A big guy stepped out, yelling something over his shoulder. She couldn’t make out what he said, but he didn’t look happy when he turned around. Molly looked away to avoid drawing attention. However, something felt familiar about the guy.
She kept her face turned as far away as she could while allowing her to take in the sight of the man. He stepped into the street, crossed in front of the truck. And as he walked into a pool of light, she gasped. It was that security guy’s son. Anton, or something like that.
Anton had made it another half-block before Molly began following him. Enough distance it shouldn’t concern him. And if he looked back and saw a woman, he wouldn’t feel threatened.
Five minutes and two turns later, she had closed the gap between them and figured out where they were going. A single-story motel stretched half a block. Ten units. Robbie was here. She felt it.
Molly quickened her pace. She needed to be certain which room the guy was going into. He veered toward the building. She stayed closer to the edge of the sidewalk. He stopped in front of room four. She hurried to get a view inside the room.
The door opened. She heard a woman’s voice. Then a child’s. Soft. Sad. In between sniffles.
“Where’s my momma?”
She turned her head toward the sound and saw him.
Robbie.
33
Bridget and I had watched the missing security footage from the Venetian a couple of times before deciding to call Braxton. We met close to the warehouse. He wasn’t pleased about the scene inside, but said he’d do what he could to cover up my involvement.
> “Spotlight Security,” Braxton said. “SLS. Sears, Lavelle, Stokes. Good catch. Now, we gotta figure out who this Stokes guy is.”
“Not gonna be easy,” I said. “Sam’s been working on it and come up with nothing.”
“We’ve got resources here, too, Tanner. So does she.” Braxton looked at Bridget for support but received none.
“I’m not gonna get too far into my partner’s personal business, but he has a connection with access to more info that you’ll ever have. If there’s something on Stokes, we’ll get it.”
Bridget held her arms out like she was refereeing a fight. “Guys, let’s agree that we can all put resources on finding out who he is. My gut is telling me that if the Air Force connected Lavelle and Sears, Stokes might have served as well. Probably in a similar capacity. Let’s start thinking about that.”
“Right, good thinking, Bridge.” I looked up at the sky, followed a plane as it traveled east to west. Thought about the car. The Mercedes. “Whatever became of the driver? The one headed to Vegas with Lavelle’s Mercedes.”
Bridget shook her head. “They had no reason to hold him. The guy picked up a car and drove it. Eventually he said yes, he was going to Vegas to drop the car at the Venetian. They ran a background on the guy. He checked out. Was just doing his job.”
“Okay, so we’ve got three guys started a security company. We know the connection between two of them. Third guy’s a mystery to us presently, but I’ve got faith we’ll find something.”
“And one of those guys is dead,” Bridget said.
“Right, and the other guy’s keychain was a thumb drive containing the missing security footage from the Venetian.”
Braxton nodded. “Tells me at least one of the S’s wanted the L dead.”
The space between us filled with steam as we all exhaled at the same time.