A whole lot of nothing.
There were other cases Ellie had worked on, other arrests. They had gone for the most obvious ones, those who had made threats or had kidnapping as part of their criminal repertoire. What about someone who’d been stewing in silence, nurturing their anger? They could stay under the radar, planning for a long time.
There was no reason for anyone wanting to do Ellie harm, outside the job anyway.
Jordan thought back to Rhonda who had broken up the relationship, but stayed in the area, relatively close to where her ex lived. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about the woman didn’t sit well with her.
She finally left the department and drove to Rhonda Marks’s new address, one of the newer condo buildings that had popped up in the past few years. The units here were for sale only, making her wonder what kind of income sources Rhonda had besides her job. Unless she was the manager or even the owner, she was unlikely to make the kind of money to afford living here.
Jordan sat in her car for twenty minutes, then forty-five, not sure what she hoped to accomplish here. Rhonda had an alibi, and for all appearances, she had moved on, unless…she hadn’t. Jordan quickly hid out of sight when a car arrived and Rhonda emerged, together with a man. He tried to kiss her, but she resisted, pulled back and spoke to him, her posture tense and angry. She took her keys out of her purse and headed for the entrance. He followed her, grabbing her arm, and Jordan decided she’d seen enough.
She left her car, crossing the street in quick strides.
“Hello, Ms. Marks. Is everything okay?”
“None of your business,” the man sneered. “Get lost.”
“Oh, but you’re making it my business.” His expression became weary when she identified herself. “You called the cops on me?” he addressed Rhonda. “I should have known. You’re a fucking—”
“Shut up!” she yelled at him. “I want nothing to do with you anymore. Don’t ever show up here again.”
“I wouldn’t if anyone paid me,” he said and turned to walk away.
Rhonda was rubbing her arm, the skin reddened.
“Are you okay?” Jordan asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Rhonda cast a long look after the man, shuddering. “Normally I wouldn’t be so happy to see you, but your timing’s pretty damn awesome. You have any news on Ellie?”
“No, sorry, I just happened to be in the neighborhood. Who is he? You think he’s going to bother you again?”
Rhonda shrugged. “We used to date for a brief time, and he…misunderstood some things. I thought we could be friends again, but apparently that’s not working out.”
“What’s his name?”
“Look, he’s not going to come here anymore.”
“Humor me, okay?”
Realizing that Jordan wouldn’t back down, Rhonda relented. “Raphael. Raphael Deane. Like I told you…”
“Be careful, and if you have doubts, call 911.”
She had seen too many of those “misunderstandings” go horribly wrong. Darby had read a lot between the lines that had never been there. They weren’t all serial killers, but it didn’t harm to be cautious.
“There won’t be any trouble,” Rhonda said with a sigh. “He’s going to sulk even harder now, that’s all. No need for you to worry. If you’ll excuse me now?”
“Sure. Have a good night.”
Jordan returned to the department where she ignored all strange looks from colleagues. No one asked what she was still doing here though. It didn’t take her long to confirm that Rhonda Marks had never filed charges against the man she’d seen her with. Was he threatening her now?
More importantly, was he somehow involved in Ellie’s disappearance? With the kidnapper’s efforts to hide his face from the camera, it was hard to tell if it could be him. There could still be a connection—and there could be a connection to Branson. But if he didn’t want to be the one to get his hands dirty, he would need money to hire someone. Jordan doubted that the small jobs he’d been pressured into after his release would be enough. For sure, his legit job wasn’t.
Jordan didn’t care for the possibility of finding Bethany at her doorstep again, so she took a turn towards Derek’s neighborhood. It was late, but not an unusual time for her to come here in the midst of a case. After all, he’d been single most of the time, and Jordan’s private situation had been…complicated, most of the time. Over the years, they had become good friends that could show up on each other’s doorstep late at night. There was nothing complicated about tonight—she was out of her mind with worry, and the fear that they were looking in the wrong place.
There was a light on in his apartment, so she parked her car and walked up the steps to the front door. She had to ring twice to get an answer.
Derek opened the door to her wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else, alerting her to the fact that she might not have picked the best time. It didn’t matter. She wanted his opinion on Rhonda’s ex, and she didn’t want to wait until the next day.
“Hey, I’m sorry it’s so late,” Jordan began, not waiting for an invitation. “I stumbled across something—someone, to be correct—who might be interesting for us. I caught Rhonda Marks in an argument with someone she used to date.”
“Jordan.”
“I know it’s a long shot, but maybe he has something over her, or the other way around. We shouldn’t dismiss either of them just yet.”
“Okay. Sure. I’ll look at it tomorrow.”
“No, I don’t think we should wait that long. I have—”
“Jordan, what do you want me to do?” he asked, sounding impatient. “It’s after midnight. I’m trying to get a few hours of sleep here, and frankly, you should do the same. You look like hell.”
“I don’t care! Ellie needs us. We can’t stop now.”
“No one’s stopping anything. Every cop in the city is on alert, and we’ll go back to work tomorrow. That’s how it works and you know it.”
“Is everything okay?”
Jordan spun around at the sound of a soft voice, and did a double-take. It took her a few moments to find her speech.
“I don’t believe this. Have you lost your mind?”
Her words weren’t for the woman wearing Derek’s shirt, studying the floor in the awkward silence that ensued, her cheeks flushed.
“I’m sorry. I should go,” Kate McCarthy said.
“No, you don’t have to,” Derek told her. “Jordan was about to leave. Like I said, we’ll deal with all of this tomorrow.”
Kate went back into the bedroom and returned a few moments later, wearing her own clothes.
“I’ll see you at work,” she said, avoiding Jordan’s gaze, before she left the apartment.
Jordan still couldn’t wrap her mind around what she’d seen, and what it meant. No wonder Maria was curt around him these days. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to do the math.
“Don’t you have anything to say about this?”
Derek shook his head. “Don’t even start. You can imagine, we’re both not to proud of this, but it happened. End of story. Frankly, it’s none of your business.”
“The woman just lost her fiancé! And, in case you haven’t noticed, she’s Ellie’s best friend. I never thought you’d take advantage of a situation like that. That’s low, Derek.”
“Oh, is it? Worse than cheating on someone who trusts you? In case you must know, this started before we knew about Harding. Sometimes, things just happen, and that’s all there is to it. You should know about it.”
Jordan listened in disbelief. She didn’t think she deserved all that judgment, at least not after what she’d seen. Derek had been so angry about Bethany’s transgressions in the Darby case, she was stunned he seemed to be taking sides now, and not Jordan’s.
“Well, nobody died. I won’t deny I screwed up, but this is…You can’t do this.”
“Excuse me if I won’t take any relationship advice from you at the moment. I’m sorry, Jordan.
I don’t want to talk about this any longer. Go home. We will find Ellie. Soon. This is between me and Kate, and I’d appreciate it if you kept quiet about it.”
Realizing that they weren’t going to talk anymore about Marks and her suspicious ex, Jordan left, slamming the door for good measure. Usually, they had a great rapport, enjoyed working together. She couldn’t understand him. She couldn’t understand Kate who had grieved so deeply for her fiancé.
She passed by a fast food restaurant on her way home, changed her mind and turned. It was the worst possible meal to have late at night, guaranteeing a sleepless night, but she couldn’t resist any longer. However, after a few bites of the burger and fries, her appetite stalled and vanished when she wondered how Ellie might feel right this moment. Darby hadn’t given much thought to providing food for the women he held in his basement. Water, and drugs. Her fingers gripped the edge of the slightly sticky table. Gross, but better than to lose herself in the memory.
Ellie’s situation might not be comfortable, but there was no reason to assume it could be exactly the same.
Then why would Darby change his statement exactly when he did, the moment Ellie started getting those text messages? He had no opportunity to contact anyone, they’d checked that.
Did he have an admirer?
Derek and Kate McCarthy. Did Ellie know? Had she kept her friend’s secret? Jordan wasn’t particularly curious, and with a little distance, she almost understood his reaction. Jordan didn’t have a lot of talking room. She didn’t even mean to argue—all she’d wanted was a moment to go over her theory.
Because Ellie could be suffering through the same terror she had.
Maybe she was losing her mind—or maybe she was far from being over her own ordeal. None of the alternatives were particularly uplifting.
Jordan left for home before she’d fall asleep at the wheel and create even more of a mess.
* * * *
She managed a few hours of sleep, disturbed by dark and shadowy dreams, before she took a shower and headed back to the station, buying a coffee on the way. After her late-night visit to the fast food restaurant, she didn’t feel hungry.
When Bristol saw her, he called her into his office. Derek was already there, and so was Kate, greeting her with a somber expression. Jordan didn’t care when the sergeant told her the good news.
“We found the owner of the car Officer Harding was seen in. It belongs to a Jack Mercer. Problem is, the guy is eighty-four years old and definitely not the one driving. We’ll see who had access to his car. The clerk at the gas station doesn’t remember the driver, no ID on him yet.”
Jordan tried to imagine the scenery, shaking her head. “She doesn’t remember why, it was a busy day? In that case, someone else has to have seen him! What about the hotline? Was there anything else?”
“I told Marshall to call right away if there was something noteworthy. So far, nothing.”
Strange, it occurred to her that everyone seemed to work around her, working hard to find Ellie, that was a given…It was almost as if everyone wanted to avoid she’d be first on the scene when that happened.
Hope was brittle—everyone was still shaken from the events that had led to Officer Baker’s death, even Kate and Derek, she assumed. Jordan didn’t like that they seemed to prepare for the worst case scenario.
“Okay, Mercer is next, then we head back. I want to take a look at Marks’ ex-boyfriend, see if there’s something…and I’ll check with Narcotics if Branson is really such a good guy, reporting in whenever he was supposed to.”
“Jordan, come on,” Derek said. “Maybe you were mistaken about the earring, or you weren’t, and his ex had one like that. Fact is he didn’t have means or opportunity. Hate to say it, but he’s right. You need to plan something like that.”
“Thanks. I feel so much better now. Darby was a planner, too.”
Derek didn’t say anything, and for the rest of the drive, there was an uneasy silence between them.
Chapter Seven
The sound of the key in the lock roused Ellie from a light sleep, and she cursed herself for being careless. Not that there was anything she could do until the next time she was out of those cuffs and hopefully close enough to the door. She was certain she could outrun him, given the chance.
She heard doors being slammed, then the fridge, she assumed. Oh great, more beer? This time, she wouldn’t turn down any food that was warm, if not necessarily fresh, and she’d avoid getting drugged again at all costs.
Instead, Ellie heard the TV come on, and a news speaker relating the Breaking News of the hour. 4:00 p.m.
It felt like a little victory to her, knowing what time it was, not that she could do a whole lot about it. It was even more important to stay conscious.
The disembodied voice felt comforting, like a connection to the outside world. Ellie got even more excited when the local news station issued a missing persons alert.
“The vehicle possibly used in the abduction…”
“Damn it,” she swore. The bastard had changed the channel to some reality show, laughing obnoxiously loud to something happening on the screen. Ellie flinched. He was drinking. That would be all right if she had any chance to steal out of the door somehow, but bad for her should the alcohol lower any inhibitions he might have.
So far, he’d acted controlled, cleaned up the mess she’d made, drugged her only after she’d punched him in the face. He seemed to be holding a day job, since he was gone hours at a time. Ellie tried to make up a timeline in her mind, but her memory was foggy. Maybe he worked evenings or nights?
She was so lost in thought she didn’t hear the door being pushed open.
“Hey, Officer Harding. Not so cocky any longer, are you?”
Within an instant, her heart beat in her throat, hard and uncomfortable.
Ellie didn’t need to take a closer look at the man standing in the doorway, giving her an ugly grin. This voice she did recognize. It wasn’t the voice of the man who had brought her food and drugged her in those past hours. This man had come out of nowhere one night when she was walking home from the Code 7. He had attacked her, probably meant to abduct her, and when she fought, nearly cracked her skull on the pavement.
“You…”
He wasn’t somebody to argue with. She could see the cruelty in his gaze.
“Yeah, me.” Beer bottle in hand, he came closer. “You thought I had forgotten about you, didn’t you? Well, that almost worked, until a friend of mine was so nice to remind me I was really mad at you.”
“Mad at me? Why, because I wasn’t as easy a target as you imagined? Is that why you nearly killed me the other time?”
There were two of them. She had to be out of her mind with fear for wishing that the other one could come back soon. Either way, she only had herself to count on now.
Ellie shrank back, her hand reaching behind her under the pillow. It wasn’t much, but she’d give it a try if she had to. With the other man, she could try to reason. This changed everything. She gripped the small metal object in a trembling hand, so tightly it bit into her skin.
“I see you lived.”
“So it was you all along. You sent me the text messages?”
He shrugged. “As I said. I had a friend who was helpful, but…now he’s at work, and we’re all alone here. Funny, isn’t it?”
“Let me go,” Ellie said, wincing as she squeezed the pull-tab, feeling the sharp edge draw blood. “I’ll say I never saw your face. You can end this now.”
“Hm. Maybe. What if I don’t want to?”
She saw the gleam in his eyes and knew exactly what was on his mind. Ellie wasn’t to let it happen without a fight or injury to this man who had already caused her so many nightmares. She waited until he was uncomfortably close.
“I have a better idea on how to spend the time.”
“Whatever.”
This time, everything would be different. She wouldn’t be dependent on the kindness of strangers.
The moment Danny opened the door to the apartment, he knew something was wrong, even before he heard the TV blaring some obnoxious reality TV show. Some courtroom stuff, he guessed, people yelling at each other.
Somebody else was yelling.
“I’ll kill you, bitch!”
What the hell was Josh doing here? Immediately, Danny’s mind was filled with worse case scenarios. This couldn’t be true. If Josh messed with his plans once again, this would be, had to be the end of their dubious partnership. If Harding got hurt, he’d have problems on a much bigger scale.
On the other hand…that would made him the even bigger hero when he saved her. The only player who didn’t belong in the picture was Josh. Danny knew he couldn’t go into the room now, because she’d realize there were two of them, and that wouldn’t help his mission either.
Josh came storming out of the room, clutching his bleeding cheek. He was sporting a cut almost the length of it, ending dangerously close to his eye.
“Bitch nearly poked my eye out,” he seethed.
Danny shrugged. “Stop being such a baby. Wash up—we have work to do.”
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” Josh shot back at him, pushing him hard.
“Great. If you want out, get out right now, but you’ll never see any of the money. Now stop whining!”
Danny put on the ski mask before he stepped into the half dark room with his captive, keeping a cautious distance.
She was sitting up, legs drawn up to her chest, shaking. Danny thought of the can of beer, cursing himself. Think. It might be helpful to set up Josh further as a suspect, if they caught him with this gash on the cheek, but for that plan to work, she needed to believe that there was no second kidnapper.
“Do you want me to say sorry?” she asked sarcastically. “Because I’m not.”
Think.
He turned on this heel and went to check on Josh who had slapped a few sheets of toilet paper over the cut. There were no bandages in this place. Danny hadn’t expected the situation to turn this violent.
Incisions Page 5