Smoke Screen (The Darcy Lynch Series Book 2)

by Elin Barnes

  “We have a situation,” she said when Sorensen closed the door after they were both inside.

  Chapter 92

  Ethan had a plan. He always had a plan. Or a few, in fact. He always had several contingencies for everything he did. That’s why he was the best at what he did.

  Yes, of course this last mission had turned out to be a major cluster fuck. Part of the problem was that he had overestimated Blake. He thought Blake really wanted his issue to go away. But he should have known better. Blake was the typical rich boy who wanted to play tough but when the shit hit the fan, went running back to daddy.

  And that was exactly what Blake had done at boot camp. When it got rough, he chickened out, and daddy pulled strings to get him out. Ethan should have realized people like Blake don’t change.

  But he’d believed him. When Blake called him out of the blue with the proposition, Ethan was skeptical. But Blake swore to him that he was serious, that he needed the lawsuit to go away quietly and he was willing to do whatever it took to get it done. And to prove it, he’d wired Ethan one million dollars just for him—a small enticement, he’d called it. And again, Ethan should have seen through that. For Blake, everything was about money.

  The white Jeep Compass he was following stopped suddenly at a yellow light. The noise of the screech on the asphalt pulled him out of his thoughts and made him slam on the brakes as well. His car stopped a mere inch from the bumper of the car in between them. He cursed under his breath. He had a better plan than to crash into her. The light turned green, and she pulled forward. He followed her, this time focusing his full attention on the road.

  She took a left on Alum Rock Avenue and headed toward the hills. There were fewer and fewer cars the farther east they got. A few miles later she took a right on White Road. At the next stop light, he pulled up next to her and rolled down his window, then signaled for her to do the same. She finally saw him but only lowered it halfway, as if she feared he would be able to reach her all the way from his car.

  “I think your left rear tire is flat,” he said.

  “Oh, you think?” she asked, looking behind her as if she could see it.

  “Yeah, it looks pretty flat to me,” he urged.

  “I guess I should stop and check it out then,” she said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

  When the light turned green, she went through the intersection and pulled over by the curb. He stopped in front of her.

  Getting out of the car, he met her by the flat tire.

  “I’m a mechanic,” he said, pointing at his left breast, where the Mike’s Cars & Parts logo was prominently displayed. He saw her check it out and relax a little. “I can help you.”

  “That’s so kind of you. I’m sure you have somewhere else to go, though. I would not want to inconvenience you.”

  “No, it’s okay. I just finished my shift. Do you have a car jack?” he asked, walking with her toward the trunk.

  “Yes, I think I have everything here.” She opened it and pulled up the rug. There was a huge hole where the spare tire should have been. “Oh no. That’s weird,” she said. She pointed at the hole. “Isn’t that where the tire is supposed to be?”

  “I’m afraid so.” He took a few steps away from the car. “Let me go and check mine. Maybe my spare will work.”

  He left her there, still confused about why her tire was gone.

  He looked and saw that the open trunk door blocked her view. He ducked into the car and grabbed her cell phone from the seat. Then he opened his trunk and closed it a couple seconds later.

  Chapter 93

  Sorensen was tempted to ignore the call, but it was weird for his wife to phone him in the morning, so he answered.

  “Honey, I’m super-busy. What’s up?”

  “Detective Sorensen, Ethan Mitchell here.”

  Sorensen checked the caller ID. “What the hell have you done to my wife?” he yelled into the phone.

  “The question, Detective, is what am I going to do with her.”

  The phone went dead.

  When Sorensen turned, his face was white.

  “He has my wife,” he said, locking eyes with Virago. His voice was barely audible.

  “What happened?” Virago asked as Lynch walked into her office.

  Sorensen told them exactly what Mitchell had said.

  “Call her.”

  Sorensen dialed, but the call went to voice mail.

  “Can you track her phone?” she asked.

  Sorensen tapped into the tracking app and saw that his wife’s phone was off the grid.

  “He must have pulled out the battery.”

  “When was the last time you spoke with her?”

  “This morning.” Sorensen felt his temperature rising. He wiped the sweat forming on his neck with his hand.

  “I’m getting a couple unis to go to your house and to your kids’ schools,” Virago said. “I’ll have them picked up and brought here.”

  She called and gave very specific instructions.

  Sorensen nodded as a thank-you. “I need go look for her.”

  “Detective, I know what you’re thinking, but the best thing you can do is concentrate on finding Mitchell.”

  Sorensen stopped pacing. He looked at Lynch, who nodded, agreeing with Virago.

  When Sorensen gave in, Virago said, “Here’s the warrant. Take it with you, but the bomb squad has to do a floor-to-floor sweep, because we received a threat of another bomb in the building.”

  “We all know Mitchell’s not at his condo, anyway,” Darcy said.

  Virago continued: “The reason why I called you in here is because there was a fire at one of the warehouses close to where Jon’s shooting took place. The preliminary information indicates that it was probably intentional, as there was an intense smell of gasoline emanating from the place. The hazmat unit is there. SJFD managed to put the fire out already. They found a body on the premises. No ID yet.”

  “You think it’s related?” Darcy asked.

  “Too close for comfort.” She pushed her glasses onto her head. “I would like you guys to stop there for a second and sniff around.”

  Sorensen started to complain, but she cut him off: “You don’t have to stay long. Just go and check it out personally.”

  “Are you sure that’s the best place we can be at?” Sorensen pushed.

  “Do you have a better one, Detective?”

  Chapter 94

  Darcy loaded his additional extra magazine and put it in his jacket pocket. He checked that he still had the other one. Three were always better than two. He watched Sorensen grab another mag too.

  On the way down to the parking lot, his partner pointed toward the accessories room, and Darcy followed him.

  “Do you still have the vest in my trunk?” he asked Darcy.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I don’t remember if mine is there either. Let’s make sure we go prepared. This guy’s sick.”

  They got the vests and headed for Sorensen’s car.

  “I should drive,” Darcy said.

  “No way in hell you’re driving my car when I’m in it.”

  “I thought you may want to have a free hand if your phone rings or something.”

  “I can drive with one hand.”

  They got in the car, and Sorensen drove out of the parking lot, tires screeching with each turn.

  “What would you do if you were me?” Sorensen asked Darcy when they were en route to the fire scene.

  Darcy was quiet for a second. He looked out the side window and watched as they passed the parked cars much faster than they should. He rubbed his temple. The motion made him realize how dry his eye felt. He blinked a few times and exhaled for a long time. When he felt his lungs completely empty, he took in a deep breath and said, “I don’t know.”

  “That’s helpful.”

  Darcy didn’t say anything. He actually didn’t know. He closed his eyes and willed
himself to stop rubbing his temple.

  “I would do whatever it took to find my wife.”

  Sorensen looked at him, as if surprised that Darcy would fight in his corner.

  Darcy continued: “But I think Virago’s right. If he took her, your best bet to find her is to find Mitchell.”

  “Why do you say ‘if’ he has her? Of course the asshole has her. How else could he have her phone?”

  “Technology is crazy these days. If nothing else, that’s one of the things you keep reminding me since I moved to Silicon Valley.”

  “You’re saying he hacked into her phone somehow?”

  “I don’t know. All I’m saying is that this guy’s very smart. Kidnapping somebody in broad daylight is hard. Maybe it’s easier to make you think he has than to do it for real.”

  “Like he hasn’t kidnapped enough people in broad daylight already,” Sorensen scoffed.

  “True, but the execution was extremely elaborate.”

  Sorensen drove in silence for a while. Darcy was about to say something else when they got to the fire scene.

  Sergeant Marra was waiting for them.

  After shaking hands he said, “I know you guys are thinking about coming on board at the SJPD, but frankly I haven’t been this busy in years, so I think you bring bad luck. Can you please stay at the Sheriff’s?”

  Darcy laughed and saw Sorensen smile a little.

  “Don’t worry, we just want to make a grand entrance,” Sorensen said. “Things will slow way down after that.”

  “Well, we like it when crime goes down, so just keep that in mind.”

  Marra started walking toward the entrance of the warehouse.

  “Why do you think this is related?” Darcy asked.

  “Well, maybe it’s too early to tell, but we found another crispy. The preliminary cause of death is gunshot wound to the back of the head. A Sig P226 was found at the scene just like the one from the mess in Los Altos.”

  Madison was by the ambulance, a body bag next to him.

  “Show them what you found,” Marra said to him.

  The ME looked through a few of the evidence bags he’d already collected and pulled two. One contained an ID. It was somewhat burnt, but the picture of an African American man in his early thirties, angular face and black eyes, was almost intact. His name was Alex MacAlister. The other bag had a partially melted Trident pin.

  “We found this in his wallet,” the ME said.

  Darcy took the evidence bags and looked at them. “Could it be fake, just something to throw us off?” he said, waving the bag with the pin.

  “Maybe, but I was a SEAL, and it looks pretty real to me,” Marra said.

  “Neither Curtis Gutierrez nor Samuel Barr were Marines. But we didn’t check other branches,” Sorensen shared.

  Madison offered to call his office and see if they had found something. He put the phone on speaker. After the second ring, a female voice answered.

  “Medical examiner’s office, Giovanna speaking,” she said.

  “Can you get the Barr file—the man who ran over Miss Meadows?”

  “Give me a sec.”

  They could hear steps moving away from the phone, then coming back.

  “Got it.”

  “Do you have anything in the notes about him having served?”

  “For our country?”

  “Yes.” Madison sighed. “Not the sharpest tool,” he whispered after covering the phone.

  Darcy almost smiled. He’d never heard Madison say anything non-PC before.

  “I’m going through the notes . . . Wait, maybe this counts,” she said, but stopped talking, as if she needed permission to continue.

  “What is it, Giovanna?”

  “He was a Navy SEAL up to 2009. He left to work for a security company called Blue Ghost and should still be on their payroll.”

  “Thank you. Anything else?”

  “No. You want me to email you the file?”

  “Yes, please.” Madison hung up. “Better you check it out for yourselves,” he said to the three men, forwarding the email on. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll take the body to the morgue.”

  “That,” Sorensen said, pointing at the leaving ambulance, “cannot be a coincidence.”

  Chapter 95

  Darcy inspected the warehouse crime scene and sighed. It was ugly, but he didn’t think they added any value being there. He nodded to Sorensen to get going. They both said good-bye to Marra and headed to the car.

  As Sorensen was getting in, his phone rang. Darcy watched him fumble with the phone and almost drop it.

  Sorensen just listened and nodded. After a few moments, he said, “Can I speak to her?”

  “They found my wife,” he mouthed to Darcy in a low whisper, then turned around to talk to her.

  Darcy stepped out of the car, giving his partner some privacy.

  When Sorensen was done, he waved Darcy back into the car and said, “The asshole took her spare, then slashed her rear tire and posed as a good Samaritan wanting to help. When she wasn’t looking, he stole her phone, leaving her stranded. One of the unis stopped to assist and then realized she was my wife.”

  “I’m glad she’s okay,” Darcy said. “Do you want to be with her? I can catch a ride with someone else.”

  “No. She’s fine. I told her to take the kids and go to my sister’s.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Sorensen nodded, then asked, “What now?”

  He put the keys in the ignition, but the engine remained dead.

  “I need coffee,” Darcy said.

  “I need pie. Anything we need to do around Saratoga?”

  “You want to go all the way to Big Basin for pie?” Darcy turned, staring Sorensen straight in the face.

  “We can always ask the pimp if he knows Mitchell. Good Sam is close.”

  “Your sense of direction is as horrible as your sense of style,” Darcy said, already tapping on his phone. “Greenlee’s Bakery. Does that measure up?”

  “Ah, that’s good. They have the best cinnamon bread in town. Let’s go.”

  It didn’t take them long to get there on surface streets. They spotted the brown building with the green awnings a few blocks away and parked in the first available spot.

  Darcy could smell the cinnamon even before he opened the door to the store. He was surprised when he realized his mouth was watering. He ordered a cup of coffee and got cinnamon bread.

  “You should get two orders.”

  “I’m fine,” Darcy said.

  “You’ll come back, I guarantee it.”

  Darcy ignored him and walked to the farthest table. He chose the chair with the back against the wall. Sorensen came a moment later, moving the chair that faced Darcy to the side so he could also view the front door.

  “We got a warrant we can’t use until Virago tells us the sweep is done.” Darcy sipped his coffee. It was black and steaming. His stomach rumbled. He should have ordered a sandwich instead.

  “We have no idea where this guy is, and he’s really good. Even if we can search his place, I don’t think he would have left us any gifts . . . Unless he wanted us to find them.”

  Darcy took his fork and cut off a piece of the gooey bread. The moment he put it in his mouth, it melted.

  “Holy crap, you were not kidding. This is amazing,” he said with his mouth full.

  “I told you, you should have gotten two pieces.”

  “You were right.”

  Darcy bowed his head. Before he took another bite, he went to the counter and got a second serving. Sitting back, he said, “We need to go after Bishop.”

  Sorensen nodded. “He’s the weakest link.”

  Chapter 96

  Ethan sat inside the car, about a block away from the entrance to the park. The car he’d stolen was indistinct, and he was sure it wouldn’t call any attention. He sipped his perfect cappuccino. He savored it and then swallowed before taking another sip. He did this until he was done. The ham
and cheese sandwich remained untouched on the passenger seat.

  He was pleased with himself. He figured they’d found the detective’s wife already, unharmed. He felt smug. All he’d wanted to do was to mess with them. Because he could. He knew they would have dedicated a bunch of resources to finding “one of their own.” He also wanted to send a message. A very loud and clear message that said, “I can do whatever I want, and you can’t do anything to stop me.”

  He checked his watch. It was almost 1300 hours. He wondered if he had enough time to say good-bye to his mother but figured he shouldn’t. He was sure they were watching her place just in case he showed up. He would send for her when things cooled down a little.

  There was only one more loose end he needed to take care of. There was nothing glamorous about doing what needed to be done, but somebody had to do it.

  He picked up the prepaid cell he’d just bought and called Bishop. He thought he would have to work hard to convince him to meet up, but Bishop wanted to get the hell out of CA and needed the money Ethan was offering to do so. After giving him instructions on where to meet, he got out of the car and fetched the big duffel bag from the trunk. He only had thirty minutes to get ready.

  Chapter 97

  Darcy pulled out his phone and scrolled a couple screens until he found the tracker app he was looking for. He tapped on it, and a map opened. There was a green dot, flashing.

  “It looks like he’s home.”

  He showed Sorensen the screen.

  “You know that’s illegal, right?” Sorensen took the last piece of his cinnamon bread and washed it down with soda.

  “Nope. I have a warrant.”

  “When did you get that?”

  “Earlier today. I asked Virago to get me one for Bishop and one for Mitchell.”

  “Sometimes you surprise me.” Sorensen got up and started heading to the door. “Very rarely in a good way,” Sorensen added, and opened the door to let Darcy go out first.