No, no, no, don't apologize," George said, sounding worried and frustrated. "It's just that.. " He sighed. "Lisa was working on the Henderson vs. Colby case and was finalizing the deposition for an appearance in court this morning. She finished it shortly before she went on her leave, and there's another file that goes with it and we can't seem to find it."
"I see." William could detect the urgency in George's voice. Lisa's workload had probably been handed off to an associate and a clerk, and knowing from experience, anything could have happened to the file George was looking for.
"Danielle's looked all over for it and we've called Lisa at home twice," George continued. "In fact, Danielle went by there last night and Lisa wasn't in. We really need this file, Bill. If we could just.. "
The second line on Billy's phone console lit up. The LED readout on the screen flashed: WESLEY cowNS. Speaking of cases that needed closing, he'd been expecting this call from Wesley all morning, and the sooner he could talk to him, the sooner he could close his own affairs and get back to the Millers' personal safety issues. "Listen, George," William said, replacing the lid on the flask. "You can get ahold of Lisa at the Luxor Hotel in Vegas. They're in room 2727. And George?"
"Yes "
"Don't give that number out to anybody. Not even to Danielle." William knew that Lisa and Danielle Kwong were close friends, but he couldn't risk anything right now. He trusted George, though, and knew that the lawyer's intentions were honest.
"You have my word," George said. "I'll call you later. If there's anything I can do to help, you know where to reach me." "
"Thank you," Billy said, hanging up on George and picking up the second extension to speak to Wesley. The sooner he could finish his business for the day, the sooner he could get to the bottom of this snuff-film business. And the first order of that was the court-ordered search on the Golgotha cabin in Big Bear Lake, scheduled to take place this afternoon barring any unforeseen last-minute legal maneuvering.
"Brad?"
*Yeah?" At first Brad didn't recognize the voice on the other end of the line.
"It's George Brooks. Can I talk to Lisa?"
Recognition flooded in, and Brad turned to the bed in the center of the room. He had been in the bathroom when the phone rang, and it had rung at least five times before he managed to pick it up. Lisa had been asleep, but stirred when he picked up the phone. Now she turned over and looked at him, sleepy-eyed. "Who is it?" she murmured.
"Hold on," Brad said, placing his palm over the mouthpiece. "It's George… from work…"
"George?" Lisa looked confused, but then she recognized the name. She held out her hand for the receiver and Brad passed it to her. "Yeah?"
Brad listened in on Lisa's end of the conversation. He had been surprised at the phone call and a little scared. How the hell did George find out we were here?
"Oh, that," Lisa said, her voice heavy with sleep. "Its in the center file along the wall, under the label 'D.* A pause. "Yeah" A longer pause. "You found it! Good… okay… Um… yeah… okay… bye" Lisa handed the receiver back to Brad.
"What was that all about?" Brad asked.
"chat Henderson case," Lisa said, lying back down. "Id forgotten all about it." " -
"What about it?"
— Me hearing is this morning and they couldn't find my file on the addendums and amendments to the deposition," Lisa said. Her eyes were closed. "I forgot to tell Danielle where I had filed it"
"Oh " As likely as that prospect sounded, Brad was still uneasy. He liked George Brooks just fine, but if there was some way that their security was breached, Billy had to know about it.
Brad picked up the phone and carried it with him to the bathroom. He looked back at Lisa, who appeared to be falling asleep again. Then, he dialed Billy's number at the office.
Billy picked up on the second ring. "Brad?"
"Yeah. I just got a call from George Brooks. Did you-"
"He called here and I gave him your number," Billy said; he sounded busy, under pressure. "It's okay."
"Are you sure?"
"He wanted to talk to Lisa about a file, a legal case, right?"
"Yeah."
"Listen, I know how you feel." Brad could hear Billy rummaging on his desk. "I know you're nervous about this, but I guarantee you that George is okay. I mean, shit, I've known the man for over twenty years!"
"I'm sorry," Brad said, feeling his heart pound. "It's just that.. "
"I didn't tell him what was going on," Billy said. "He knows not to let anybody at the office know where you are. He's a professional, Brad. Trust me on this, okay?"
Brad sighed and nodded. Much as he hated it, he had to put all his faith and trust in Billy right now. George Brooks was one of the first people Brad had wanted to go to for legal advice when Lisa had originally turned up safe. No doubt George already knew the original story. Besides, the man had a wife and two children; he was involved in the community, in local charities. He wouldn't jeopardize his career, his life, for violating attorney-client privileges. Surely he'd recognize and respect that Billy was representing them.
"I'm sorry, Billy. I guess I just got a little carried away."
"S'okay," Billy said. 'Paranoia is healthy in this case. You have nothing to worry about. George and I are the only ones who know where you are!
"And our parents."
"And your parents."
'And your security team."
'"Them too. You see them this morning?"
"Yeah" Brad related the episode this morning when he had to send the room-service food away. He briefly thought about mentioning Danielle Kwong to Billy, but then decided he didn't need to. He'd only told Danielle they were going to Las Vegas; he didn't tell her where they were staying. "John and his guys are parked right across from us, and we have a hotline straight to them via the cell phone he gave us. We're fine."
"Good. John's one of the best. Plus, you're in one of the biggest, busiest hotels in Las Vegas. Nothing's going to happen to you there. You're in, like, a fort in the middle of the desert."
Brad felt a little better. He sat down on the toilet, cradling the phone. Hearing that made him feel more secure. Billy was right. John was a big man, easily over six feet, and his partner, Titan, was even bigger. Both men came from public and private law-enforcement backgrounds, held black belts in various martial arts. Plus, they were in charge of the entire security force at the Luxor. Nobody was going to fuck with them. "What's the latest?"
"I'm leaving in ten minutes for an appearance at the San Bernardino Sheriff's Station," Billy said. The DAs in court now on the search warrant issue, and I expect to hear something on my way up. I'm hoping we get the search warrant so I won't have to drive all the way the fuck back."
"Do you think they'll overturn it?"
"No doubt of that. DAs got probable cause, which is all they need. The Golgotha people don't have a leg to stand on, legally."
"So what happens next?"
"We search the place and take it from there," Billy said. "If we find anything-and I mean anything-that points to foul play in that place, arrest warrants are going out to all the guys on Golgotha's board of directors. If they want to avoid going to prison, they'll talk."
Brad's mind was racing, tracking back to the story Lisa had told him. "Do you think these guys had anything to do with this?"
"I don't know. They might, but I just don't know. There's always the possibility they could have been renting it out to this Tim Murray guy and they had no idea what Tim was using it for. On the other hand, if they know something, we're going to make them talk."
"Call me first thing you find out," Brad said.
"You bet."
They hung up and Brad walked back into the room and put the phone back on the nightstand. Lisa was asleep again, curled up on her left side.
Brad watched her sleep for a moment, noting the drawn look on her sleeping countenance, the way the skin on her forehead was furrowed in worry lines. The room was dark, slive
rs of light escaping through the blinds that were dosed against the heat of the day. Brad checked his watch. It was only ten-thirty, with the rest of the day to follow.
Brad climbed onto the bed, sat up against the headboard. He turned the television on and thumbed the volume down. He spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon channel surfing, his mind on autopilot, most of his energy going toward taking care of his wife as she slept and tried to keep the demons at bay.
William Grecko was present at the Golgotha cabin as the search commenced.
He had received the news halfway up the mountain. One of the DAs, Bruce Davis, had made the call. Billy had given a small shout of victory at the news. The court order is being sent to San Bernardino now, so meet me at the cabin," Bruce had said.
William drove straight to the cabin, where he met four deputies and a homicide unit search team. A Golgotha representative was also present, and he didn't look too happy. He'd remained sullen as he followed the search team through the cabin; making it well-known that he wasn't pleased. Billy smirked as he caught the man glancing at him. Fucking weasel, he thought. These church people are all a bunch of fucking weasels.
There were four homicide detectives present. They made a quick inspection of the interior of the cabin. William had waited outside with one of the deputies, making small talk as the search went on. The forensics team showed up a few minutes into the search, and a trio of white haz-mat-suited figures entered the cabin. Billy turned to the deputy. 'They surely didn't waste time in bringing these guys in, did they?"
"Don't get your hopes up," the deputy replied, staring at the cabin. The deputy was in his mid-thirties, with dark hair and eyes and a slim build. "We don't have much to go on in there. One of the rooms has just been repainted. If there's anything to be found, it'll be in that room, and these guys'll be the ones that find it."
Billy nodded; he had figured that the minute he saw the techs walk in with their equipment. Lisa had said the place had been barren of furniture, that Tim and that Al guy had covered the floors and walls with plastic sheets before they started torturing Debbie Martinez. They would be lucky if they found a single drop of blood in the place. And they surely weren't going to waste immediate time in digging up the grounds around the house. No telling where the bodies might have been taken. They were looking for the smallest amount of evidence they could find. Anything would do. A drop of blood, a smudge of a fingerprint, a hair. They would find it.
William was sure of it.
Six-thirty PM.
Lisa had been up for the last two hours, staring morosely at the TV as talk shows rolled on. Oprah was conversing with the author of a new political thriller. Brad had brought Lisa a glass of water and had encouraged her to eat a couple of crackers, which she'd nibbled on. She had to get some nutrition in her, but he knew that she couldn't handle food right now She was still in that state of nausea, and he didn't want to induce another round of vomiting. Slow and easy was the ticket.
At least she had allowed him to open the blinds a little. The early-evening sun spilled streaks of gold through the window, bringing in some heat. Brad had the air conditioner set at a comfortable level. He had spent the last few hours watching TV and reading the newspaper, which had been left outside their door this morning, courtesy of the hotel. Lisa's parents had called around noon, and Lisa had risen long enough to talk with them and assure them she was okay. Brad told them he would call as soon as he heard from Billy Grecko, which should be any minute. Both sets of parents were in a state of panic, and Brad could only imagine the anguish they were going through. It had been Billy's idea to keep the lines of communication between their parents open, including telling them the truth of Lisa's kidnapping. The best thing Brad could think of to keep their fears at bay was to talk to them every six hours or so, assure them they were fine and that they were holding up well under the circumstances.
At the same time, Brad knew that Lisa needed to get some serious professional help. She had spent most of the morning and early afternoon in a deep sleep, and now that she was awake she had been sitting in a vegetative state in front of the TV, talking only when he asked her something. The blows she had rent upon herself earlier that morning had left bruises along the right side of her face. Brad had fidgeted, torn between wanting to call somebody to help her-maybe get his parents or one of their friends back home to summon a good shrink over to Vegas to get Lisa into therapy or something-but he couldn't. They were trapped in one of the most popular luxury hotels in Las Vegas, under the watchful eye of the security experts Billy Grecko was connected to, until the people responsible for Lisa's abduction and near murder were apprehended. Until then, he felt powerless.
Then the phone rang.
Brad picked it up on the first ring. "Hello?"
"Billy here." Brad could detect the strain in Billy's voice. His stomach plunged down an elevator shaft.
"Yeah, Billy." Brad tried to keep his voice calm.
"We didn't find anything." At the confirmation, Brad's spirits sagged. He glanced at Lisa, who didn't appear aware that Brad was on the phone. "We tore that place apart. Looked through the house from top to bottom. The forensic guys went over every square inch of the room Lisa described and took some samples, but they didn't look too happy. They don't think they've found anything. Motherfuckers painted the goddamn room!"
"What?" Brad's mouth went dry.
"They painted it," William said again, spitting the words out in disgust. "There's a fresh coat of white paint covering the room, even the ceiling. Even the goddamn floor is painted. Motherfuckers even laid down brand-new shag carpeting!"
Brad felt himself slump. Any DNA evidence that might have been in that room was now contaminated. "What about the rest of the place?"
"Couldn't find anything. We went through the whole house. Best we could come up with were some shoe impressions left in the dirt along the driveway and the side of the house."
"the bedroom window-"
"Showed signs that suggested it might have been boarded up, but that's it." Billy sounded pissed off. Judging by the echo, it sounded like Billy was calling from his car phone. 'There were fresh nail holes in the side paneling bordering the window. No signs of the boards or the nails used. One of the detectives said there's very little we can go on."
"What about the property the house is on?" Brad was trying to think of any lead they could pursue. "Tbe surrounding area? Maybe they just haven't looked far enough."
"We searched the property and some of the surrounding area," Billy continued. "Got two sets of tire tracks and the FBI is trying to come up with a match, but that's a long shot, too. Couldn't find anything in the woods beyond the cabin. Even had a search team make the mile hike along the path Debbie Martinez normally took on her walks, but they didn't find anything."
"Shit!" Brad could feel the room dosing in on him.
"Detectives are questioning Oliver Gardenia, the man whose name appears on the deed as being an officer in the Golgotha Corporation. He appears to have an airtight alibi. He's already provided documented evidence supporting his claim that he was in New York the weekend Lisa was kidnapped. Plus, he doesn't resemble the description of the men that kidnapped her."
Brad didn't know what to say. Lisa was unresponsive, still watching TV. Oprah had given way to Jerry Springer. A pair of white-trash couples began immediately verbally assaulting each other the minute the show started.
William continued with the bad news. All the criminal checks we've run on potential suspects have turned up nothing. Tim Murray doesn't have a criminal record. A check through the DMV brings up several Tim Murrays, but they don't resemble the suspect Lisa described."
"He told her that he had gained weight and grown a beard to pull her kidnapping off so he wouldn't be recognized!" Brad hissed, now suddenly angry. Goddamn it, why were they beating around the bush on this? "He altered his appearance. Why can't you just show us some photos and-"
"We can't just pull DMV records on people witho
ut a criminal history based on lack of evidence." William sounded just as frustrated as Brad was feeling. "Besides, we got teams of detectives tracking these guys now for questioning."
"So what are we supposed to do?"
William sighed. Brad waited for him to continue. He got up and headed to the bathroom again, where the conversation could be somewhat private. "What about the other guy, this Al?"
"We found a guy in the DMV records that matches the name and description and sent a team of detectives to question him," Billy said. "They haven't been able to locate him."
"What about the surveillance tape at the Bank of America?"
"We're working on that now," Billy said, and the first strains of optimism crept into his voice. "In fact, that's our biggest lead. Huntington Beach PD reports that they were able to get a good blowup of the man who accompanied Lisa into the bank. They're putting it over the wires today."
"is there any way to check the description with the name Lisa gave?"
"All we know is that his name is Jeff." Billy sounded depressed again. "We've got no last name. That's not enough to go by."
The claustrophobic feeling tightened. There was no way these men were going to let this go. Even if they had no criminal records, they knew that law enforcement would be on their trail. That's why they had tried to kill Lisa after forcing her to withdraw her and Brad's life savings. Only Lisa had escaped with her life, barely. It had been two weeks since the nightmare began. Surely, if they were going to come after them they would have done so by now. Unless-
"You say you can't find this Al guy?" Brad asked.
"Yeah," Billy said. "LAPD detectives didn't find him at his home, and his neighbors haven't seen him for at least a week!
Brad's mind was racing. Wasn't Al one of the men who had threatened Lisa? "He's coming after us," he said. 'That's why you can't find him. He and the other two are coming after us and-"
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