Thick Fog (Alexis Parker Book 18)

by G. K. Parks

  “Derek, you need to get that injury looked at. If nothing else, we don’t need your blood contaminating the scene.”

  “I’m fine,” he insisted, shoving his hand into an evidence bag. “See? Problem solved.” He looked out the grimy window. “Steele picked this building for a reason.”

  “It’s abandoned. No signs of life, except for the little girl. No nearby traffic cams. Not that many security cams either. It’s quiet and far enough from KXD territory that we would never have thought to check here,” Lucca said.

  I peered out the window, fingering the two deep grooves on either side of the sill and examining the fresh dust on my gloved fingertips. “Steele likes to watch his prey. So who was he watching from here?”

  “I have a better question,” Lucca said. “How did he know we were coming?”

  “He didn’t,” I said.

  “Are you sure? He covered the doors with heavy artillery. Six cops were injured during the breach. You don’t think that was for us?” Lucca asked.

  “It wasn’t intentional,” Heathcliff offered before I could say anything. “Look at this place. This is clearly his base of operations, so he turned it into a fortress. That’s what he does. Everything’s a fucking fortress with these people.”

  “Bard did the same thing,” I said. “Not with guns, but he set traps.” I met Derek’s eyes. “He had his escape route planned. He wanted to be prepared. He’s determined to stay one step ahead.”

  “Assuming he was here when we breached, he couldn’t have gotten that far.” Heathcliff reached for the radio. “We had the building covered, but with so many downed officers, we were distracted. He could have slipped away.”

  “I’ll call Cross.”

  While Heathcliff told them to expand the perimeter and start a search for Steele, I asked my boss to check nearby feeds. If Steele had been here, he must have left as soon as the rifles started firing.

  “He has a fifteen minute lead,” Heathcliff said.

  “I don’t think he was home when we came knocking.” I stared at the duffel bag. “Wouldn’t he have taken this with him?”

  “Maybe not everything, but he would have grabbed the cash,” Lucca said, “unless he really didn’t have time.”

  Heathcliff scratched his beard. “Steele could find another way to get money, but he wouldn’t abandon this.” He pointed to the collage of articles on the wall. “This is what feeds his mania.”

  Newspaper clippings covered the wall. Based on the yellowing and fading, these weren’t recent. Most of the dates were cut off, but many of the articles had to do with the sweeping arrests that had been made and Steele’s capture. More articles detailed the trial, the sentences, and highlighted the guilty.

  “Guess Steele likes being a celebrity,” I said.

  “It’s not about Steele.” Heathcliff pointed to a newer section of clippings. Based on the degree of fading, they varied in age. “This is about you.”

  “Me?” I stepped closer to read the headlines.

  The other articles detailed FBI investigations Jablonsky and I had worked. Ninety-nine percent of the time our names and faces were kept out of the papers for our own protection and because we liked it that way, but occasionally, Jablonsky’s name popped up. The only thing worse were the photographs. A few had been taken when I’d still been at a scene. Unless Steele specifically looked for me, he wouldn’t have noticed me in any of the photos. I was always in the background or just on the fringe of a press conference. Obviously, Steele had been looking. He wanted to keep tabs on me. The entire time he’d been on trial and in prison, he’d been watching. Waiting. Planning the perfect strike.

  I felt sick. The sight of Heathcliff’s hand inside the bag brought up the nightmarish image of Cooper’s final moments. Sweat erupted from my pores, and my heart raced. Don’t get sick and don’t black out. But now I couldn’t deny it any longer. This was my fault.

  “He’s stalking you.” Heathcliff stared at the array.

  “They’re old. Someone had to send them to him while he was in prison,” Lucca said.

  “Maybe Warden Schuster handed them off after he finished reading the morning paper,” I suggested, “or Steele nicked them from the prison library.”

  “He’s stalking you,” Heathcliff repeated. “Don’t you get it? Whatever he has planned didn’t just pop into his head when he and Vega switched places. From the moment you arrested him, he’s been following your career. Following you.” He pointed to a more recent article about a missing girl. My last name was mentioned once in the article, but somehow, Steele figured it must be me. I just didn’t know how. There had to be a million Parkers in the world, but not that many had been OIO agents. “The reason we can’t figure out what he’s doing is because he’s spent the last eighteen months figuring out what you’re doing.”

  “This is my fault. But how does this change anything? Steele’s goals are the same. This just proves it. He wants revenge. He wants to get even. He wants to make me suffer, along with everyone else who played a part in his demise.” I tore my gaze away from the wall. “What’s different?”

  “He knows more about you than you realize,” Heathcliff said.

  “He’s profiling you,” Lucca chimed in. “All of us. According to prison records, he spent a lot of time in the library with the law books. He’s been figuring out how things work, the Bureau, the police, you. He wants to know how to get away with it. Whatever it is.”

  “Every prisoner does that,” Heathcliff said. “No greater incentive to learning the law than desperation to find a loophole.”

  “I think it’s more than that,” Lucca argued. “I think he wanted to figure out how long it takes for us to respond, the circumstances necessary to obtain a warrant, to search a place, access surveillance, make arrests.”

  “It doesn’t matter. We haven’t been operating under those conditions. Like you said, I’m not a cop. I’m a consultant. I don’t have to follow the rules.”

  “He knows that too,” Lucca pointed out, “which makes him dangerous.”

  “You think he’s setting a trap for Alex?” Heathcliff asked.

  “I think so. Under the circumstances, it’s safer to assume that’s his plan,” Lucca said.

  “Steele might have some idea how things work, but he’s not sure. He has to test it out. Test everything out.” I thought about the call from Jablonsky’s and the second one from Cooper’s, Steele’s appearance in the hospital, the burner, his escape, Lawson, all of it. “Steele can’t be positive I’ll play by his rules or that I’m really out of the law enforcement game. For all he knows, I could be posing as a private eye. He got burned once when I was undercover. He’s afraid it’ll happen again.” I gestured at the clippings. “He doesn’t know me – the real me. So he doesn’t know what to expect. That’s why he’s testing me. Over and over. He has to be certain. He won’t make a move until he’s positive it’s the right one. That’s why he lured me to the club. Steele had to be sure I’d show up and that I’d show up alone. He wants to make sure I’ll play his game.”

  “And he tracked the phone to make sure you wouldn’t turn it over to the police,” Lucca said.

  “Yep, or he hoped I’d be stupid enough to take it home with me.” I stepped closer to the window. “Who do you think he’s watching from here? He must have someone or something in his sights. It’s not me. This neighborhood isn’t even close to where I live or work.”

  “I don’t know. We need to figure out who lives around here – agents, cops, prosecutors, witnesses, rival gang leaders, anyone he has a beef with, or anyone he could leverage to use against you.” Heathcliff reached for the radio. “Let me get the ball rolling while we wait for the okay to get the hell out of here.”

  I backed away from the window. “Careful,” Lucca warned. He pointed to the rickety floorboard an inch from my left foot. “This whole building is on the verge of collapse.”

  A member of ESU poked his head into the apartment. “All clear. No other traps
. We’re ready to turn it over to evidence collection.”

  “Okay,” Heathcliff said.

  “I heard you found a stray.”

  “Apparently,” Heathcliff said. “O’Connell and Thompson are with her. Did you find anyone else in the building?”

  “No one, detective, but we found a few sleeping bags and supplies in some of the apartments. Squatters, probably. But they were cleared out when the building was sealed.”

  “All right. Tell CSU to bag and tag everything.” Heathcliff reached for his radio. “Dispatch, I need to know if any cops live in the area. This is a top priority. Get on it.”

  “I’ll call Kendall and do the same.” Lucca pulled out his phone as we carefully made our way to the main entrance, dodging the two broken steps on the staircase.

  Another thought entered my mind, and I stopped dead in my tracks “No one went in or out the front door. It was still sealed and the basement doors were booby trapped. We still haven’t figured out how Steele got out of the building.”

  “All I can tell you is he isn’t here.” The ESU officer stared at me. “We swept every floor. Every room. All the doors were locked. It looks like your suspect entered that apartment through the hole in the floor via the ladder left in the maintenance closet. The closet door was bolted from the outside.” He pointed down the hall, and I could see the padlock hanging. “Until we opened it up, the second floor apartment door was also locked.”

  “Steele’s a ghost,” Heathcliff said. “Guess that means he can walk through walls.”

  “Then he wouldn’t have pretended to be Vega to bust out of prison.” Normally, I enjoyed logic puzzles. But not in this case. “What about the window?”

  “He wouldn’t get very far if he jumped,” Heathcliff said.

  “Have someone check the window and the ledge outside anyway. He had to get out somehow,” I said.

  “Hopefully, our little friend can shed some light on it,” Lucca suggested. “Maybe she got in the same way Steele got out.”

  Thirty-one

  Heathcliff glanced at the kid. “How does she figure into any of this? She’s just a kid. What was she doing hiding in the basement?”

  “I don’t know.” I sat beside Heathcliff in the back of the ambulance and watched the girl as she bounced the bear on her lap, remnants of strawberry ice cream clinging to her cheek.

  O’Connell and Thompson kept her sequestered beside the ambulance. They’d found a bench and tried to talk to her. As far as I could tell, she hadn’t said a word to anyone.

  “How’s it going, boys?” I asked.

  O’Connell shrugged.

  “Come on, sweetie, talk to us.” Thompson put his hands on his thighs and leaned closer to the girl. “You’re not in any trouble. We’re not going to hurt you. We just want to know how you got here.”

  She shook her head.

  “Did someone hurt you?” O’Connell asked.

  Again, the headshake.

  “Did you come here by yourself?” O’Connell asked. Distrust flickered in her eyes, and she held her bear tighter. “It’s okay. We just want to know if you saw this man.” He showed her the photo of Steele taken from the hospital surveillance feed. “Was he here?”

  “Maybe your friend saw him,” Thompson said. He poked the bear’s nose. “What’s his name?”

  “Boo-boo.”

  “She speaks,” I whispered.

  “That’s a great name.” Thompson leaned in. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  She nodded.

  “My bear’s name is Yogi. He keeps me company when I’m lonely so I don’t get scared.”

  She laughed, and I realized she must be younger than I realized.

  “Did Boo-boo see this man?” Thompson asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Would it be okay if I asked him?” Thompson whispered something in the bear’s ear.

  “He can’t talk,” she said.

  “Not even to you?”

  She shrugged.

  “Will you tell me what he says?” Thompson asked.

  Lucca wandered over, tucking the phone into his inner jacket pocket. “Kendall made an announcement, but no one claims to live around here. He’s checking personnel files for everyone not in the office, starting with those with the highest level of risk.” He watched as Thompson whispered something else in the bear’s ear. “How’s that going?”

  “She speaks,” I said. “Thompson thinks Boo-boo knows something.” I met Lucca’s eyes, a teasing tone to my voice. “Why didn’t you get her to open up to us earlier? Shouldn’t you know a thing or two about children?”

  “Zip it, Parker.” Lucca leaned against the side of the rig, watching as the medic pulled pieces of metal and plastic from Heathcliff’s hand and arm with a tweezer.

  Heathcliff met my eyes. It was no secret I wasn’t great with kids. I wasn’t very good with adults either. But Lucca had a baby girl. He should know how to talk to them. “Don’t sweat it, Lucca. The only reason Thompson knows what to do is because they’re on the same level psychologically.”

  “How old do you think she is?” I asked.

  “Six or seven,” Lucca said.

  Okay, so I’d been off by a few years. “How does a six-year-old wind up in a condemned building with an escaped fugitive?”

  “I don’t think Steele knew she was here. She was hidden in that middle apartment downstairs. From the looks of it, he set up shop upstairs. I doubt after his stint in prison he’d choose to remain in a cramped, dark, and cold concrete space. That’s why he broke through to the second floor,” Lucca said.

  “And like you pointed out,” Heathcliff added, “she had to have already been inside before he rigged the rifles.”

  “Shit.” I slapped a hand over my mouth, forgetting not to curse a second too late. “Any word on the officers wounded during the breach?”

  “Nothing life threatening,” the EMT said as she finished pulling the last shard of shrapnel from Heathcliff’s wrist.

  “Additional units were sent to the hospital to provide protection, just in case Steele tries something,” Heathcliff said.

  “Okay, good.” I climbed out of the rig and stared up at the apartment building. “You’re right, Lucca. Steele wouldn’t trap himself inside, not after being locked up. He had another way out.” Jumping out a second story window wouldn’t be lethal, but it would hurt. No, Steele had something else in mind. Another way in and out of that apartment. But what was it?

  I crossed the street and stared up at the window. The building had a fire escape on the other side, but that wouldn’t have helped, especially when the apartment door had been locked from the outside and nothing indicated Steele had been inside the building except to move straight up from the basement to the second floor apartment.

  “He brought the ladder in,” I said.

  “Probably,” Lucca agreed, coming to stand beside me. “I’m guessing he busted through the ceiling and floor to make his own personal trap door.”

  “He didn’t want us to find his lair.”

  “Now you’re making him sound like a cartoon villain.”

  But I was on to something. “The ceiling tiles in the maintenance closet had been replaced. The hole leading up and into the apartment wasn’t obvious. The ladder just rested against the wall. We might not have bothered to move the tiles and go up that way, in which case we would have cleared the building the normal way. The apartment doors were bolted and locked. We might not have checked every unit. Steele probably knew we would eventually but wanted to buy some time. I don’t think he wandered around inside the building. He just carved out one space, possibly where the floorboards had rotted through, and picked out his nice new home. Compared to the prison cell, it wasn’t half bad.”

  “That’s why he didn’t booby trap all the doors.”

  I touched the tip of my nose and pointed at Lucca. “Bingo.”

  “Plus, the only reason we’d check this building is if we tracked him here, and if we did that
, we’d go in the same way he did. Through the bottom.” Lucca smiled. “I told you he was reading up on procedure. He knew we’d check the building’s layout, find out the basement was entirely cut off from the rest, and focus our efforts there.”

  “Good job, boy scout.”

  He licked his lips, hoping to hide the growing grin on his face. “Despite everything, we weren’t half bad as a team.”

  “Parker,” O’Connell called, waving us over, “we got something.”

  Lucca and I headed across the street. A white sedan with the child services emblem painted on the two front doors parked next to the ambulance. A woman with permed hair and a kind smile knelt in front of the little girl.

  “What’s going on?” Lucca asked.

  “This is Sophie Harrell,” the woman said. She smiled at the girl. “You know you caused everyone quite the scare. You can’t just run away.”

  The girl stared up at the woman with a level of petulant indifference that made me proud. She hugged Boo-boo and curled up on the bench, hiding her face against Thompson’s side. Automatically, he patted her on the shoulder.

  “Are you sure she ran away?” Thompson asked.

  The woman nodded. “She’s a runner. Would you mind watching her for a minute while I update your partner?” Thompson nodded, and the four of us clustered together beside the ambulance so Heathcliff could hear while his wounds were disinfected and bandaged.

  “What’s the deal, Stacy?” O’Connell asked. Obviously, he must have had prior dealings with this woman. From his tone and body language, he trusted her judgment and valued her opinion. If she said Sophie Harrell ran away, then she ran away.

  “Her parents died in a bus crash about a year ago. Without any surviving relatives, Sophie was placed in the system. She lives in a foster home with four other kids, but she used to live here.” Stacy looked at the building we’d raided.

  “Let me guess, in the basement,” Lucca said before quickly introducing himself.

  “Uh-huh. At the time of her parents’ deaths, they had already received eviction notices, so it was right before the city condemned the building.” She looked back at the little girl. “I’m not sure she understands what happened to her parents. She was in daycare when the accident happened. The next thing she knew, her things were packed and her life uprooted.”