by Dale Mayer
“I’d still like to find that guy.”
“I know. Which is why I’ve just been hacking into the cameras at the harbors.”
Immediately Baylor walked over and sat down. “Did you find him?”
“Well, if she’s asleep, I can’t get her to confirm this face, but this one’s a known associate of the Russian guy in her drawing.”
At that, Baylor turned the screen and looked at it. “Do we have a file on him?”
“No, and he’s not wanted by Interpol, except for questioning.”
“Because of his Russian buddy’s activities, I presume?”
“Yeah, and you know how that works,” Hudson said. “You’re presumed guilty and associated with the whole mess, unless you can prove yourself innocent. And it’s pretty damn hard to do that if guys like these are your associates.”
“I wonder if that’s the guy who drugged her.”
“Maybe, she said he was a lowlife.”
“Sure, but who knows?” Baylor said, studying the screen and looking at a face with a broken nose. “I don’t remember if she mentioned the nose.”
“And did she see him clearly enough? That’s a bigger question.”
“True enough, but she and her parents were all kept in the one section on the boat. We could ask her mother though. She’s the only one who appears to be cognizant.”
“Let me send it over. Who is at the hospital?” Hudson quickly fired it off and sent it to their team member. He followed it up with a message, asking for the mother to confirm if this was one of their captors.
When the response came back ten minutes later, it was positive.
Hudson said, “Well, that’s a good sign. This is one of them. She said another one hung around with this guy and stared at her daughter way too closely.”
“So, this might have been the one who stopped the perv gunman from going after her,” Baylor said. “Which would make more sense because she felt that the one bothering her was even less important in the scheme of things.”
“Yes, underlings all the way. And we know that there are layers and layers of hierarchy to this international kidnapping stuff.”
“Exactly,” Baylor said. “Let’s see if the cameras picked up a second guy leaving from the dock before we raided that riverboat cruiser.” They both started searching, going through everybody who walked or drove anywhere in the vicinity.
Then Hudson sat up, clearly interested.
Baylor leaned closer to Hudson’s screen. “What ya got?”
“This is a possibility,” Hudson murmured, pointed to the replay on his screen. A suspect Hudson was following online had met up with another guy on a barren street corner. The two spoke briefly, and an envelope was passed off. Then they split and walked in different directions. “A payday, you think?”
“It looks like it,” Baylor said. “We need to track him and see where he’s gone.”
“Just him?”
“No, both of them. The one paying must be a higher-up, and the other one getting paid is probably just the next guy in line, some go-to middleman, who then hires the low-level gunmen who actually did the kidnapping, including the perv after her.”
“Do you think he still is?”
“I don’t know,” Baylor said. “If you think about it, he actually defied orders by giving her those drugs.”
“So, in other words, it may not be quite so easy to change his mind.”
“Exactly,” he said. “Chances are, he might walk away from it for now because we’re involved, but he also might be looking for an angle to continue later. Either way we can’t take a chance and discount him.”
“Got it,” Hudson said. “We need to track both guys’ movements.”
“Let’s put our eyes on our possible Russian guy first.”
So they went to work on the camera footage, backtracking periodically, depending on the cameras.
Hudson said, “We lost him for a good half hour here. Then he showed up again.”
“Where the hell did the Russian guy go?” Baylor asked, as he searched through the cameras in the area. “He was gone at this corner,” he said, and he tapped the screen. The other camera didn’t pick him up, and that block was only about fifty yards long. But two buildings were in there.
“So chances are, he lives there or was visiting,” Hudson said.
“Or he was hiding,” Baylor suggested. “Or making a phone call.”
“Who knows?”
“He could even have just ducked out of the range of the cameras,” Baylor said. “Think about it. We’re sitting here, spending how much time backtracking his movements, and we lost him for that time frame. How many other people would just give up and figure they lost him? When instead, here he is, showing back up again some forty-two minutes later. What did he do for those forty-two minutes?”
“Well, let me get an address and see if we can find out what the hell is in that building,” Hudson said. It didn’t take too long for him to come back with an answer. “It’s apartments, and I have a full list of residents right here.” He pulled it up. “We do have a name for the Russian associate but not for the one who got paid. He might be a local, with no arrests, so under the radar.”
“I don’t know that the names would be anything that we could count on,” Baylor said. “Chances are the names are fake or something adapted just for the purpose of this operation.”
“Well, we would do that too,” Hudson said. “If you end up doing sneaky things, you wouldn’t want to use your real name for it.”
“Exactly.” They continued to watch the cameras, following the Russian rep, and, when he disappeared again a little bit later, Baylor leaned forward. “Where did he go?” Damn, these guys were ghosts.
They waited and waited and waited, and they never saw him again. Baylor swore and said, “I’ve got to go physically check out where he’s gone.”
“It’s not that far away from the place where he disappeared earlier,” he said. “You want to do some reconnaissance?”
“I really, really do.”
“But first, get this.” Hudson pointed to the replay on his laptop. He had caught the money man, arguing with some guy on the street. When Hudson showed this to Baylor, he had Hudson add this additional guy to their facial recognition software program for the IT team to do a search on as well.
“I’ll watch for him as I’m out too.” He turned toward Hudson. “That means you have to stay here and look after her.”
Hudson gave him a droll smile. “Meaning, she’ll wake up screaming when she finds herself alone?”
“I think she’s pretty damn scared, and we can’t take the chance that her perv is hanging around here anyway,” he said.
“Don’t be too long. I’m getting hungry,” Hudson said.
Baylor rolled his eyes at that. “You could order some dinner,” he said. “I’ll be back in two hours. She’ll be starving.” And, with that, Baylor headed out the front door, aiming for the first area where the Russian guy had disappeared.
It took fifteen minutes to get there, and he searched through each of the floors but found nothing suspicious in the hallways. He didn’t accidentally trip over any people of interest inside either. He may have had access to the names of the apartment renters, but these people who Baylor passed inside the building could be any of the residents, or it could be none of them. He had his phone though, with the Russian guy’s photo. As he came upon one middle-aged woman with a couple smaller children, he stopped and asked her if she knew the man in this photo.
She looked at the man’s photo, and he saw the terror in her eyes. She pulled her children back, shaking her head, and in broken English said, “I don’t know anything.”
“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I don’t mean to scare you, but he’s wanted for questioning.”
She immediately stepped farther back again.
“Have you seen him here?”
She shook her head. But one of the children, a boy, who looked like he was seven or eight years old, n
odded. “He comes and visits that woman.”
“What woman?” Baylor asked, smiling at him. “Do you know where the woman lives?”
“At the far end,” he said, pointing backward.
“How far back?”
“The last one.”
The mother said something to him, speaking sharply.
The boy turned and looked at her. “He’s a bad man, Mom.” She just nodded but pulled her son closer.
Baylor smiled, thanked them, and quickly walked down the hallway. He gave them a wide berth to help lessen the fear he could still see in the woman’s eyes. He looked at the little boy as he walked past and said, “Thank you very much.”
The little boy just nodded, and, as Baylor walked farther down the hallway, the boy called out, “It’d be good if he didn’t come home anymore.”
At that, Baylor turned and looked at him. “Why?”
“He scares everyone. He makes threats. He’s a bully. And bullies shouldn’t be allowed.”
“You’re right,” he said. “Let me see if I can talk to him.”
“Do you think he’ll stop?” the little boy asked hopefully.
Baylor shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it. Bullies do what they do because they can. It takes a lot to stop them.”
At that, the mother pulled the little boy away.
Baylor walked to the apartment in question and knocked. He got no answer, and he heard no sounds from within. Looking around, he saw nobody watching and no cameras on that floor, so he pulled a tool from his pocket and quickly picked the lock. It was a small standard apartment with a couch, a single chair, and a TV. It was neat, not upscale, and fairly plain. He did a quick search and found only women’s clothing in the closet.
With a frown, he checked the fridge and found the bottom half full of beer. There was a chance it was hers, but there was also another chance that it was for her male partner. After finding nothing of importance, he stepped out and checked the apartment across the hall. That one was a little more interesting, but he couldn’t be sure which one was more likely to lead Baylor to his Russian mystery guy. Then Baylor heard voices. Frowning at that, he came up to the front door and waited.
“I don’t care what you mean,” she said. “I’ve told you before, the answer is no.”
Baylor couldn’t hear what the man said, but an argument was about to ensue as they stepped inside the apartment, shutting their door, while Baylor quickly slipped out of the opposite apartment. He waited outside in the hallway, hoping they would say something more. But there didn’t appear to be any more discussion. Frowning and frustrated because he didn’t have anything concrete to go on, he looked back at the one apartment he had just exited, wondering if he should go back in for another look.
Just then, a man walked down the hallway from the far side.
This was the guy arguing with our money man on the street. Interesting.
He continued to walk forward, as if he’d just come out an apartment. The guy glared at Baylor, but he just glared back. “What are you doing here?” the man asked.
“What do you mean?” Baylor said. “I was just visiting her.” At that, the guy rolled his eyes. “You let him find out about that, and you’ll be dead meat.”
“Maybe,” he said, “but he doesn’t scare me.”
“He should.”
Baylor shrugged and kept on walking. When he got to the stairs, he turned to find the guy still standing there, staring at him. He gave him a look and a hand wave. Stepping around the corner of the stairs, he waited a few minutes and then peeked. The guy had walked down to the apartment Baylor had just exited, where he stood in front of the door. He knocked, meaning he didn’t even live there. There was no answer from inside.
And then he did exactly what Baylor had done. He pulled out a tool and picked the lock. He stepped inside, and that made Baylor wonder what the hell was going on. Maybe they were coworkers. With that thought uppermost in his mind, he sent several texts back to Hudson and started toward the building where the Russian guy had disappeared the second time on the cameras. No way to know what he’d done or where he’d gone from there.
After this fateful meetup with the unhappy man arguing with Money Man, it was more important than ever to figure out who the players were here. Baylor walked another few blocks, and, as he arrived at the next location, he sent a message to Hudson, letting him know where he was. He walked around the block, looking for options. He took several photographs and found a series of warehouses. He stepped out into the alleyway and looked into the windows of a couple of them.
One was manufacturing, but he wasn’t exactly sure what they made. It looked like some small parts. Another one was a machine shop. A bunch of motorcycles were in the back corner, so maybe it was a repair shop. But then again it could just as easily have been a chop shop. He continued to study all the buildings and then sent back a message. Nothing here at this time.
Hudson sent back a reply. Keep watching your back. He disappeared there somewhere.
That was a truth hard to ignore. As he walked a few more blocks, he got the feeling he was being followed. Stepping around a corner and into a hiding spot, he waited, and, sure enough, the same guy that he’d seen in the apartment building walked past. Immediately the guy looked around to see where Baylor had gone. Baylor came up behind him. “Looking for me?”
The guy froze, but, instead of turning around, he said, “No, hell no.”
“I saw you break into the guy’s apartment,” Baylor said.
At that, the man stiffened, then pivoted just enough that Baylor could see his profile. “What’s your deal, man?”
“I think we have something to talk about,” Baylor said.
“I don’t intend to talk to you at all,” he snapped. “The guy owes me money. That’s all.”
“Well, in that case, you got what you wanted from his apartment, and you can leave me alone, right?”
“I wasn’t after you,” he said, with a snort.
“Yeah, so who are you after?”
He shrugged. “I’m looking for him too.”
“Why?”
“He owes me money, I told you,” he said.
“Interesting. What for?”
“None of your business,” he snapped.
“Depends on what the money was for.”
“He promised, and he didn’t deliver.”
“I figured you for the middleman, hiring the local talent for others’ needs, where you get paid for supplying the men, then paying them wages out of your cut. So why would one of your workers be paying you?”
The guy just stared him down.
No answer is an answer. Interesting. “Seems you work the locals on your own side gigs, right? So you trusted one of these lowlifes to sell stolen goods, is that it?” With that, his mind raced ahead, as Baylor wondered just what was going on here. “So he was supposed to do something for you, and he didn’t?”
“That’s what I said,” he said in a careless voice.
“Or was he supposed to collect something, and he didn’t?”
“Either way it doesn’t matter, does it? He didn’t produce, and now he owes me.”
“Unless he was supposed to collect a woman.”
At that, the guy turned slowly and looked at him. “I don’t know what you’re accusing me of,” he said, “but I don’t like it.”
“Hell, I don’t blame you if you don’t like it,” Baylor said, “but I really don’t give a shit. I’m trying to figure out where this guy is and where his boss is. And, by the way, when you do see him, he did get paid.”
At that, the guy’s eyes opened up. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, I saw him get handed an envelope.”
“Goddamn that bastard,” he said, “he told me that he didn’t.”
“About four hours ago,” Baylor said, “so it depends on if you catch him before he spends it.”
“Sounds like you do know him.” At that, he snorted. “He’s a guy with wishes,” he sai
d quietly. “They always let money run through their hands.”
The other guy’s eyes were distant and ever so watchful. Baylor saw the danger emanating from him. “And we didn’t take it from him either, by the way.”
“Good thing,” he said, “because I’d have to take you down to get it back.”
“Well, you could try,” Baylor said cheerfully. “I’m not looking for any new enemies in particular, but, if you want to bring the war my way,” he said, “I won’t back away from it either.”
“What’s your stake in this?” the man asked.
“He attacked and drugged a woman,” he said quietly. “And, in my book, that’ll never go down well.”
“But it’s just a woman,” he said.
“Yeah, just a woman, … and he had plans for her.”
At that, the guy nodded. “That sounds like him. He’s always got his dick in his head, instead of keeping his eye on the game.”
Bingo. “So, if you’re involved with him in picking up that woman,” he said, “you just jumped into my field of vision.”
“I don’t deal with women,” he said. “But he was supposed to get me some weapons off that ship.”
“Ah, well, that I don’t know about,” he said. “I doubt it though. Last I saw he didn’t have anything in his hands at all. But he did get a packet of money, so maybe he already sold them.”
At that, the other guy started to swear heavily. “If he did, he’s a dead man.”
“I highly suspect he’s a dead man anyway,” he said. “He failed at another job.”
At that, he laughed. “Yeah, that’s him. He’s about fifty/fifty on his jobs these days.”
“Well, he may have crossed the wrong person this time,” Baylor said. “It’s too early to tell.”
“Maybe not,” the guy said. “Have you seen him around recently?”
At that, Baylor stopped and shook his head. “That’s why I’m looking. He’s dropped off the face of the earth.”
Chapter 6
Gizella woke up suddenly, as if something were incredibly wrong. Her heart slamming against her chest, she bolted to her feet and cried out, as the room swam around her.
Almost instantly the door opened beside her, and Baylor rushed in. “Are you okay?” he asked, obviously worried.