None fit.
She made her way methodically down the hallway, trying all the keys in every door, hoping, praying, wondering if perhaps she’d already tried Jeff’s door and failed to open it in her haste.
Finally, at the last door before the men’s room, she slid a key into the lock and turned the knob. Immediately, she knew she’d come to the right place. There was Jeff’s mug sitting next to a coaster. She’d thought his coaster aversion was something he did only at home, just to irritate her, but apparently his disdain for them ran deeper than that. She even caught a whiff of his familiar cologne.
Oh, dear Lord, help me now. If there’s evidence here, help me find it.
She turned on the computer and, while it was powering up, fit the small keys into the filing cabinet and desk drawers.
The papers in the filing cabinet were arranged in neat files. She found page after page of numbers on grids, years, incoming, expenses—but no words pointing to the true sources of the funds. While most of the crime ring’s income came from human trafficking and drugs, nonetheless, Vanessa was aware of at least one of their cover operations—selling luxury goods for vastly inflated prices. Few people actually bought their ten-thousand-dollar handbags or five-hundred-dollar key chains, but all the documents in the filing cabinet seemed to indicate their money came from those sources.
Disgusted, Vanessa slid the last drawer closed and turned her attention to the computer. She’d always enjoyed using computers before Jeff took her. He, of course, wouldn’t let her online at all, not until after Abby was born. Then, out of his reluctance to let her take the baby to any more medical appointments than was absolutely necessary, he’d let her research any of Abby’s sniffles and rashes online—as long as he was in the same room to be sure she didn’t visit any social networks or do anything to reach out for help.
After every time Jeff let her use the internet, he always checked her browser history afterward, so Vanessa knew well how to check the sites he’d visited recently. Reading through his browser history, she skimmed past the familiar website names, instead checking those that sounded suspicious.
On the third try, she got a sign-in page.
Members Only.
The login name was already entered. The password box held ten black dots.
Enter.
The page that appeared made her stomach turn. Human trafficking, in all its sordid wretchedness.
So visceral was her response, it took her a moment to realize the vibration she felt was coming from her pocket and not her racing heart.
Debbi’s phone. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Two men.
That was all. Obviously Eric had been in too much of a hurry to type any more information. She must not have much time.
She glanced around the room. There was nowhere to hide. The computer—she didn’t dare leave it turned on. What if whoever had arrived came into this room? It seemed likely enough they would—anyone visiting the office at this hour might well be there because of Jeff’s death.
Vanessa shut down the computer, then opened the door just a crack. She peeked into the hallway but saw no one, heard no signs of life. Quickly, she darted out, hoping to reach the stairs, but at that moment, a dull boom sounded, and voices fluttered up from the foyer.
The boom was the main door opening. They were coming in the front door. She couldn’t go down the stairs, not with them coming in that way. She glanced behind her, hoping to see an exit sign, but there was nothing but the row of locked doors behind her.
She was trapped, with no escape.
“His office is upstairs.” Virgil’s voice echoed through the open stairway from below. The man who’d killed Jeff was on his way, and he wasn’t alone.
FIVE
Eric sent the text the instant the headlights swept across the parking lot.
He recognized the vehicle. It was the same Land Rover from the news broadcast, the same SUV Virgil had stood in front of in Jeff Nelson’s driveway as he’d thrown all of the greater Chicago area into a manhunt for an innocent woman.
Silently, Eric crept from his car, crouching behind the Dumpster, phone in hand. The men who exited the vehicle were arguing in what he supposed were intended to be hushed tones—he couldn’t make out any clear phrases—but their anger caused their voices to carry in heated bursts.
Somebody was furious, and they were headed inside.
Oh, dear Lord, keep Vanessa safe. He almost wished he’d gone in with her—except that then she’d have no warning that the men were on their way inside. No, it was better this way. And maybe he could even get a picture of them. The more evidence they had, the better.
As the men passed under the bright beam of the security light, Eric pointed his phone’s camera in their direction. The phone’s description had touted its picture-taking capabilities—Eric had bought it to catch action shots of the high-school basketball team he coached. He’d never tested its prowess in taking pictures in low light.
He pressed the button and prayed—not just for a clear picture, but for Vanessa, who was still in the building.
The men went inside, and the door slammed closed behind them with a boom.
* * *
Vanessa darted into the ladies’ room, settling the door closed silently as angry voices echoed up the stairs. She glanced around the room, grateful to see two stall partitions instead of an open room. Deftly, she stepped into a stall, pulled the door closed behind her and stood on the seat so her feet wouldn’t be seen. It didn’t seem likely the men in the hall would enter the women’s restroom, but she was going to take every precaution she could. If they even so much as realized Jeff’s computer was still warm or suspected something might be out of place—she’d resisted the temptation to place his mug on the coaster—it wouldn’t take them long to look in the ladies’ room, not with all the other doors locked.
The voices echoed louder as the men proceeded down the hall in her direction. She tensed, waiting, while keys jingled in the hallway, and then the echoes shifted. The voices continued, the words no longer muted by the heavy bathroom door, but tinny, crisp, almost amplified.
She jolted and nearly slipped from her perch on the commode before she realized the men were not in the room with her. Their words were funneled through the ductwork to the ventilation opening above her head, Virgil’s voice sounding just as it did when it resonated through the vents in her Barrington basement.
“—ran outside the second we heard the crash. She never drove past the house—just out the backyard and straight for the highway. There’s no way she’s hiding in the neighborhood.”
“What about her sister?”
“We’ve kept surveillance on her since sundown. Dick’s guys are going to run a job. No sign of any unusual activity.”
Vanessa felt her heart freeze, then slowly start beating again. So, they knew about Alyssa. Jeff had known about Alyssa, so she wasn’t too surprised the others knew about her. Fortunately, from the sound of it, they didn’t know about Sammy. Alyssa must be keeping him out of sight, just as she’d figured she would. That much was a relief. But how long would Alyssa be able to keep him hidden, now that these men were watching her?
The conversation continued. “What about her other friends from high school? Other family connections? She had to go somewhere.” The firm voice sounded like a drill sergeant delivering a lecture.
Virgil’s voice had never sounded so wheedling, so pleading. “Maybe she’s still driving. If she left the state, kept going out of the range of the television broadcasts—”
“With two little kids and a baby? All by herself? She’d have to stop for gas. Jeff’s credit cards haven’t been used, have they?”
There was a pause, clicking of keys. Vanessa could picture them using Jeff’s automatic log-in to check his accounts. Knowing the guys he worked for, every credit
card was accounted for, probably procured through them.
“Nope.” Virgil grunted. “She could use cash.”
“Maybe.” The other man’s voice sounded distantly familiar. Vanessa tried to recall where she’d heard it before. It wasn’t one of Virgil’s usual guns—no, those goons didn’t talk back or ask questions. This guy sounded as if he was bossing Virgil around. Could he be the ringleader? With a breach like this one, it made sense the head honcho would swoop in to make sure all the holes were properly plugged. “No. No, she’ll be in hiding. She’s scared, doesn’t know where to go. She’ll panic, go somewhere familiar.”
“There was that cabin.”
“Cabin?”
Vanessa felt her heart nearly stop at the word. They knew about the cabin? Surely it wasn’t the same place....
“Her grandpa’s cabin. Yeah, we found out about that when her grandpa died. She and her sister were supposed to inherit half each. The sister had her declared legally dead and sold the cabin.”
“So the sister sold the cabin—” the bossy voice protested.
“But Madison doesn’t know they sold the cabin.”
“She doesn’t?”
“How would she? Jeff didn’t let her know anything.”
Slowly, Vanessa’s heart started beating again, but with dread-filled thumping. They knew about the cabin. They knew more than she did. It was worse than she’d thought.
“Have you checked the cabin?”
“I don’t—” Virgil’s wheedling rose to a new, wordless level.
“You don’t what?” The bossy voice grew angrier.
“I don’t know where it is. But I can find it. I can. No problem. I’m on it.”
“You bet you’re on it. Do we have everything we need here?”
“Everything.” The keys rattled and jingled, and the voices shifted to muffled sounds as the men entered the hallway and headed toward the stairs.
Vanessa held her breath, listening carefully. Were they gone? She didn’t dare leave the restroom until the men had left the building, but how could she know when they were gone? There wasn’t a window in the bathroom.
And she didn’t have time to wait. Virgil was going to check the cabin. She had to get her girls out of there, get them long gone before Virgil and his men arrived.
Her enemies were already two steps ahead of her.
* * *
Eric climbed back into the car but kept his eyes on the office building. He could see only the main set of doors from where he sat, but that was really all he needed to see. The Land Rover hadn’t moved, and Vanessa hadn’t appeared. All he could do was pray that Vanessa had received his text in time, that she’d get low and stay low until after the men were gone.
Finally, just as he was beginning to worry that they’d been inside too long and were going to stay until everyone else arrived for the day, the doors opened and the men exited, climbed into the Land Rover and backed out of their parking spot.
Trading quick glances between the door and the SUV, Eric watched the vehicle roll out of the parking spot onto the access road. They’d made it to the stoplight but were still within his line of sight when the doors of the office building opened again and Vanessa peeked out.
She glanced around, then darted for his car, a bulky box that looked like a slimline desktop CPU tucked under her arm.
The stoplight turned green. The Land Rover moved forward, veered wildly wide, then swung around in an abrupt U-turn.
Vanessa was wide out in the open. Either the criminals had spotted her and turned around to come after her, or they’d forgotten something and turned back to get it. Either way, they’d see her soon enough.
He had to get her out of there.
Starting the car, he put it in Reverse and backed up wide, clear of the trees, then pointed the car toward Vanessa, aiming the passenger side at her path, opening the door just as he reached her.
“Get in!”
She dived inside, and he kept moving even as she pulled her legs in. He’d kept his distance from her thus far out of respect for what she’d been through, but safety was more important than feelings. He grabbed her arm, tugging her into the vehicle as she pulled the door shut after her. She dumped the CPU on the floor mat and buckled her seat belt. “Are they gone?”
“Not quite.” He’d let go of her arm to steer with both hands as he stomped the gas to stay ahead of the vehicle that pursued them.
Squealing tires added emphasis to his words as the Land Rover took a sharp corner into the parking lot.
Eric’s Mustang slid down a grassy median into the next lot. He accelerated toward the access road and the stoplight, which was turning yellow.
Gunning the engine, he made it through just as it turned red above him.
Vanessa looked behind them. “They ran the red light. They’re catching up. Do you know where you’re going?”
“I have a few ideas, but I’m guessing those guys know the neighborhood better than I do.” He got back on the highway and headed out of the city. It was probably a good idea to stay near traffic, thin as it was, for now—with more witnesses around, the criminals might be less likely to try anything.
But Vanessa had more bad news. “They know about the cabin, too.”
“Our cabin?”
“Yes. I overheard them talking while I was hiding inside. They’ve been watching my sister—they said something about guys running a job? I don’t know what that means. I hope they leave her and Sammy alone.”
“They’re too busy chasing us—” Eric’s words were cut off by a sharp sound behind them, and he ducked instinctively. “They’re shooting at us?”
As if to answer his question, another shot sounded.
Vanessa ducked low.
Eric slid down as far as he could in his seat. He needed to be able to see to drive and didn’t dare let the shots scare him into slowing down. Surely that was what the men behind them wanted—they weren’t likely to hit much, especially not given his car’s low profile. But their boxy Land Rover was another story. It sat high above its own tires, exposing them to a direct hit. Vanessa had been quite the shot back in the days when her grandfather taught her marksmanship.
“Your grandfather’s shotgun is in the backseat, along with a box of shells.”
Vanessa didn’t hesitate, but reached back and grabbed them.
“Do you remember—”
“Grandpa taught me how to shoot with this gun. Of course, it’s been a long time.” She rolled down her window as she spoke.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Keeping these guys from hurting my kids.”
Eric felt something swell in his throat. This was the Vanessa he knew, not the cowering accused murderer who’d showed up at his cabin. Inwardly, he cheered that his old friend hadn’t lost her spirit, in spite of all she’d been through. But there were far more urgent concerns for him to worry about. “Yeah, I know. But I mean—aim for their tires. Try to shoot them out. That’s buckshot. You get four balls—”
“I know how buckshot works.” Vanessa twisted her torso around in the seat and angled her head and arms out the window, aiming the gun behind them. She raked her flying hair back from her face and, with speed that surprised him, fired.
“Ouch, that recoil,” she muttered, rubbing her shoulder as she slid back into her seat. “Did I hit anything?”
Eric studied the rearview mirror. “Not that I can tell, not yet. But I think you made them nervous. They stopped shooting and backed off a little.”
While Vanessa loaded the next slug, Eric realized there was something more urgent they needed to be doing. “I think we need to call the county sheriff’s office. Tell them to go to the cabin, warn Debbi, tell her to get the girls out of the cabin. If these guys send a team or if th
ey shoot out one of our tires, we might not get a chance to warn her—”
He fell silent as Vanessa met his eyes, saw the battle she waged to make the decision. For Vanessa, calling the authorities was a risk that meant she might end up behind bars herself....
Vanessa made a strangled sound as she pulled out Debbi’s phone. “I don’t have a choice. These guys know about the cabin, the sales transaction—they’ll know about you shortly, if they don’t already. It’s the only way to keep the girls safe. If that means I get arrested for murder, well, at least my daughters will be safe.”
“Okay, but don’t dial 911 here, or you’ll get the Chicago authorities, and they’re all looking to arrest you. Call the nonemergency number of the county sheriff’s office.” Eric knew the number, having had to call it several times in the past year when a rash of vandals disturbed his property and that of his neighbors. As he recited the numbers, Vanessa dialed.
“Yes, this is Vanessa Jackson. I’d like to report—” Her voice caught, and she placed her hand over her mouth for a moment. “Yes, that Vanessa Jackson. I was kidnapped by a man who went by the name of Jeff Nelson.” Another pause. “Yes, that Jeff Nelson. Listen, please—this is important. My daughters are at a cabin with a friend of mine, but the men who killed Jeff are on their way there.”
Another pause, then Vanessa continued, her patience straining in her voice as shots continued to echo behind them. “Yes, these men killed Jeff, and now they’re headed to the cabin. Please, get my girls out safely, but don’t scare them.” Her voice cracked, but she steadied it quickly. “We have a trust password. Use it, and they’ll know I want them to go with you. It’s Jabberwocky.”
His attention focused on the road, his speed and staying ahead of their pursuers, Eric was nonetheless surprised by the sudden swelling of emotion he felt at the name of the old poem that had been so special to them growing up. Vanessa may have been gone for eight years, but she hadn’t ever forgotten, had she? No, she’d treasured the same memories he’d looked back upon with such fondness.
Twin Threat Christmas Page 5