He pondered a moment. “The bastard joked about not missing the cold.”
“Cold in November would include about eighty percent of America. Anything to narrow it down a bit?”
“No. I told ya I couldn’t hear much,” he snapped. “Oh, I got something you’d like to know.”
“Great. What?”
“It’s about…a person.”
A tingle of excitement made her lean toward the space between the front seats. “Who?”
“Someone you know,” he said in a singsong voice.
She shook her head. “You’re teasing.”
“Nope.”
“Then tell me.”
“Kiss me first.”
His devious grin sent a shiver through her. She closed her eyes and swallowed repeatedly as bile once again rose in her throat.
A loud, scraping noise made her jump. She opened her eyes in time to see Milton get his knees beneath him just enough to launch himself at her. As he fell forward, she instinctively jerked back toward the side window.
When he crashed face-first onto the center console, Elle whacked the back of his head with the gun.
* * *
A naked man lay spread-eagled on the bed, his wrists and ankles tied down. His eyes were closed. A large bandage on his upper right arm might have been covering a recent gunshot wound. No other injuries were visible.
“Hey, wake up,” Luke shouted without much hope. No response. Ramming his gun inside his waistband, he stepped beside the bed and gave the guy several vigorous shakes. Still no reaction. He pressed his fingers against the side of the man’s neck. No pulse. Damn.
Luke’s lungs began to burn as he resisted the instinctive urge to breathe. He turned to the nearest window, the one with the plastic, corrugated hose threaded through a hole cut in the screen. The rest of the mesh had been completely sealed with duct tape. Fumbling a bit, he used both hands to shove the screen free. It and the hose dropped outside to the ground. A few minutes earlier, he’d seen the other end of that hose attached to the generator’s exhaust pipe. Yeah, carbon monoxide poisoning was a bitch.
Leaning out the window, he coughed and inhaled lungfuls of fresh, cold air before turning back to the body. He didn’t think Milton had lied about the person’s identity, but Luke went through the checklist of Elle’s description of her abductor anyway. White, Hispanic, or Asian. White, check. Over six feet and chubby. Check. Dark brown eyebrows. Check. Wore gloves, possibly to hide tats, scars, or birthmarks. Yep, distinctive scar on his hand. Check. The guy’s physical characteristics, the white pickup, and the fifth-wheel RV, along with Milton’s claim of tracking him all the way from Virginia, added up to a high probability that this dead man was Elle’s kidnapper. Hopefully, she would be able to ID him, the truck, and the RV when required later.
Luke sighed with resignation. He didn’t approve of vigilante justice, but he didn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for the criminal’s fate.
Now more questions needed answers. Who was this guy, what was his motive, and did he have an accomplice or boss?
Luke glanced around the tiny bedroom. Milton hadn’t said anything about taking the kidnapper’s wallet or cell phone, so they might still be here. If the stalker/murderer did already have them, perhaps in the locked box, Luke would get them.
He switched on another light, circled the bed, and discovered a pile of men’s clothing on the floor. A cell phone peeked out of a shirt pocket. Using tissues from a box on the nightstand to avoid evidence contamination, he retrieved the phone and then searched until he found a wallet in the jeans.
He straightened with an item in each hand and froze. An idea burst into his brain with the force of a busted fire hydrant. He laid the wallet on the bed and thumbed through the phone’s call list. One particular number appeared every day, confirming what Elle had said about the kidnapper talking to someone frequently. But who was it? His boss, an accomplice, his wife or girlfriend?
Still using tissues, he set the cell on the nightstand and opened the wallet. According to a West Virginia driver’s license, the dead man was Todd Whitaker, thirty-five, six-two, and 240 pounds. Luke flipped through the contents, finding the usual cash, credit cards, and pictures, but also a company ID and a United American Miners membership card.
A miner? Elle’s research into the Bureau of Land Management’s abnormal mining deals was missing from her computer files that the FBI had given Stone. And she’d mentioned her father having a mining client during one of her calls to her parents. Shit.
His brain played a quick game of what-if. What if it was all connected? What if someone thought Elle’s research would reveal improper practices by the BLM? What if the mining company benefitting from those irregular deals had done something illegal to get the contracts? What if that company had sent Todd Whitaker to kidnap Elle? What if Whitaker’s employer was Harlan Bradley’s mining client?
Everyone involved had much to lose if Elle finished her investigation and the results were made public. Definitely a strong motive. Damn.
Luke frowned with concentration as he put the puzzle pieces in place, and his idea morphed into a plan. Holy hell, this could work. But there were innumerable details to be organized and tons of things to do.
He stuffed the wallet and cell into his pockets. Oh man, he was going to have lots of explaining to do. He could even be risking his whole career. But solving this case was worth it. Elle was worth it.
While he quickly, but carefully, searched the RV for anything else useful, he opened the other windows and overhead vents to dissipate the carbon monoxide. Not that it would do Whitaker any good.
Luke checked his watch. Not much time.
After locating the controls for the generator, he shut it off and exited the RV. Then he raced to the truck’s cab and luckily found it unlocked so he didn’t have to break a window.
The vehicle registration in the glove box said the pickup belonged to Joseph Turner of West Virginia. Was he the person Whitaker had called daily? Or perhaps the truck and RV had been stolen—like the California license plates—but that could be determined later. For now, Luke pocketed the registration and insurance card. Hopefully, he’d removed all the personal identification from the crime scene so identifying the dead man would be delayed.
He jumped from the truck and headed toward the trees, dialing his own cell as he ran. He was in the woods by the time Lieutenant Tanner answered.
“It’s almost eleven o’clock, Deputy Johnson. This had better be important,” his boss said, his raspy voice revealing he’d been asleep. Nothing like waking a hibernating bear.
“It is, sir. And it’s…uh…not SOP.”
“Not standard operating procedure? What the hell do you mean?”
“I’m…uh…going a bit rogue, sir, but there’s a huge payoff.”
“Shit, I hate rogue.”
Luke gulped. “Hear me out. Maybe it’ll sound better if I tell you the payoff first.”
Tanner grunted. “Might help.”
“Okay, here it is: We’ll bag Elle Bradley’s kidnapper, his murderer, and his boss.”
A long silence followed.
“You lost me, Johnson. Who’s dead?”
“The kidnapper.”
“Shit. Did you—”
“No, sir, hell no. But I have the guy who did it in custody.”
“At the Ramona station?”
“Uh…no. In his van.”
“In his van? Shit. Who is it?” Tanner asked.
Luke didn’t think he’d ever heard his boss say “shit” so many times in one conversation. He drew a fortifying breath and shoved his way out of the underbrush. Once he was clear, he waved the flashlight toward the van to signal Elle and gave a thumbs-up in the light. Then he splayed his fingers, hoping she would understand he needed five more minutes.
“His name is Mike Milton, sir. He was identified as Elle’s stalker.”
“I thought the stalker was a kidnapping suspect, but you’re telling me he’s not the
kidnapper.”
“Absolutely. He killed the kidnapper…because he’s obsessed with Elle.”
“Makes sense. How did Milton find him when we couldn’t? And what the hell is this guy doing in California?”
“Long story, sir. I’ll fill you in later.”
Tanner huffed. “Damn right, you will. Okay, now give me the ‘not SOP’ part.”
“I need you and a few people you can trust to keep their mouths shut to come get the kidnapper and his vehicles.”
“Why do we have to keep our mouths shut?” his boss asked.
“Because no one can know he’s dead or even that he’s been found.”
“I don’t like it. Why the secrecy?”
“I’ll give you more details after you make him disappear…temporarily.”
Tanner huffed again. “Who is…was…the kidnapper?”
Luke hesitated. “I shouldn’t tell you. Then, since you won’t have a name, he can be a John Doe.”
“Are you forgetting who’s the boss here, deputy?”
“Not at all, sir. I just don’t have time to give you the full plan right now.”
“Dare I ask why?”
“Because I need to hide Milton,” Luke explained.
“Shit, you’re not taking him to the station?”
“Nope. He’d never keep quiet about killing the kidnapper. I can’t risk word getting out. Besides, I don’t know exactly how long my plan is going to take, so you’d have to be able to charge him in order to hold him long enough. That won’t work.”
“I don’t like it,” Tanner said again. “What if Milton gets away? You’ll have lost a murderer. You could be putting the public in danger.”
“Trust me. He won’t escape.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re risking here, Johnson? What you’re asking me to risk?”
“Yes, sir, I do. And I’ll take full responsibility, if you’ll just have enough confidence in me to help this plan succeed.”
“Shit. I still don’t like it.”
“But will you do it?”
After a long pause, Tanner said, “Well, fuck. I’ll help…for now. But I’m counting on you to make damn sure the murderer doesn’t get loose. And if things go bad in any way, I’m shutting you down immediately.” He exhaled loudly. “Give me the location, and I’ll arrange to pick up the dead kidnapper and his vehicles. But you better call me ASAP with the rest of your plan.”
Luke cringed. His boss had moved up to the “fuck” level. Not good. He braced himself for the next round. “Thank you, sir, for trusting me. I’ll call as soon as I can. And there’s…one more thing.”
“I’m not gonna like it, am I?”
“Probably not.”
“Fuck. What now?”
“Don’t have a heart attack when you hear Elle has been kidnapped again.”
Chapter 28
Elle, are you okay?” Luke exclaimed when he opened the van door and spotted Milton sprawled across the center console.
She grimaced. “Yeah, I’m all right. Thanks to this.” The gun suddenly weighed a ton, so she shoved it into Luke’s hands.
His eyes widened. “Damn. You shot him?” He bent down, searching for blood or other signs of a gunshot wound.
Elle rolled her eyes. “Nooo. I was tempted, but I didn’t shoot him. I hit him. When he started to wake up, I hit him again. And again. He’s going to have one hell of a headache, courtesy of you and me.” She shuddered. “He gives me the creeps. Please move him.”
“I will.” Luke frowned with concern. “But first, are you absolutely sure you’re not hurt…in any way?”
She exhaled a long, slow breath through pursed lips, the pressure-cooker tension inside her lessening by the second. Finally, she nodded. “I’m fine.”
He studied her intently as if making his own assessment. “Wanna tell me what happened?”
“The jerk tried to kiss me.”
“Gross.”
“So gross,” she agreed and then laughed. Luke’s presence made the situation funny rather than frightening. His protectiveness felt good…and right. Sometimes, female independence was overrated. “What are you going to do with him?”
“I saw rolls of duct tape earlier. I’m going to use it to secure him at the rear of the van and make sure he can’t see or hear or speak.”
“Why?”
“I need to make some phone calls he shouldn’t hear. And I can’t let him see where we’re taking him.”
“I don’t understand. Aren’t we going to the Ramona Sheriff’s station?” she asked.
“No.”
Her throat tightened. “Didn’t you…find the kidnapper?”
“Actually, I did. Dead.”
She recoiled from Milton’s body. “He…he killed him?”
“Yeah. Carbon monoxide poisoning.”
“Oh God.” She gulped. “So why…?”
“Hang on while I deal with this bastard, and then I’ll explain everything.”
He jogged around the vehicle and climbed inside through the sliding door. Wincing, he wrestled Milton off the console between the front seats and dragged him as far back in the van as possible. The effort clearly hurt Luke’s injured arm, but he was too macho to admit it. He also wouldn’t appreciate a mother-hen reaction, so she kept her mouth shut.
She watched as Luke taped a towel across the man’s eyes and pushed a washcloth into his mouth. After stuffing toilet paper into Milton’s ears, he covered them with duct tape.
All the heavy-duty tape was going to hurt like hell when it was ripped off later, but she didn’t feel any sympathy for Milton. She had wanted her kidnapper caught, not murdered. Her stomach churned with the realization that her unbelievable ordeal was spiraling downward.
Milton moaned as Luke crisscrossed his body several times with strips of duct tape, sticking the ends securely to the metal floor. By the time Luke finished, her stalker—the murderer—resembled a mummy. An angry, belligerent mummy, based on the grunting and straining.
When Luke finally started the van, Elle slouched back against her seat with relief. She waited until he’d turned the van around, heading back the way they’d come, before she asked another question. “Can you tell me now what’s happening?”
He glanced at his watch. “Highlights now, play-by-play coverage later.”
“Sure.”
Luke pulled onto the paved road, and the vehicle jolted hard. Milton groaned loudly. Somehow it made her feel a teensy bit better.
“Here we go. As I said, the kidnapper’s dead. I called my boss, and he’s going to retrieve the body and the vehicles. Nothing about the operation will be communicated on the radios, so no one else can pick up on it. And they’ll process the guy as a John Doe. Meanwhile, I’ll have Milton stashed away so he can’t blab.”
“Where?”
“Hopefully at Stone’s place. But that’s one of the calls I need to make. Then tomorrow, we’re going to announce you’ve been kidnapped again.”
“What?” she almost screamed. Her nerves were obviously near their breaking point.
“Hear me out. I have the kidnapper’s cell, which lists a number he contacted every day. We’ll try to identify whose number it is, but I’d bet a year’s salary it’s also a prepaid burner phone. Pretending to be the kidnapper, we’ll text to say he’s recaptured you. If we work it right, we should get information that’ll help us figure out who the boss is.”
“But we’ll warn my parents beforehand that it’s just a ruse, right?”
“No.” He shook his head vehemently. “The fewer people who know, the better.”
“I understand, but—”
“Elle, they’ll get over it when we solve this.”
The truth hurt. She hated what he was really thinking but was afraid to say. “Admit it. You believe my father is involved in this.”
Keeping his eyes on the road, he refused to meet her gaze. “He might be involved. There’s definitely a mining connection because the kidnapper had a Uni
ted American Miners membership card.”
“Oh God.”
“Considering the mining angle, the boss could be Secretary Carmichael, a bureaucrat at BLM, an executive at your father’s mining company client, a union official…or your dad. See? Plenty of suspects.”
“How will we narrow it down?”
“I don’t know yet. Hopefully, we’ll get some clues when we contact the boss by phone. Speaking of phones, I need to make my calls now. Can you wait a while for more info?”
“What? No. I have a hundred questions.”
“I’m sure you do, but I have to act quickly.”
“Then may I listen?” She smiled sweetly. “It might save you from a ball-busting interrogation by an award-winning investigative reporter later.”
“Heaven help me.” He glanced over his shoulder at Milton. “Fine. He can’t hear anyway.”
“Thank you. Hand me your phone. I’ll put it on speaker and hold it while you drive.”
He pulled his cell from his pocket and gave it to her. “Call Sean first.”
A few taps later, his friend answered. “You and Elle okay?”
“Yeah, we’re good. It’s been a hell of a night, though, and it ain’t over yet.”
“Well, don’t worry about your truck. Jess’s brother and I drove over to the Poway Business Park and got it. It’s safe at my place.”
Elle sent Luke a questioning look.
“When I went to lock up the Ram earlier, I called him,” he explained. “Sean, did you track down Holmes? What’s his excuse for being a no-show?”
“He’s one totally embarrassed fed. He was asleep in his car right where you told me to look.”
“Asleep? Oh. My. God,” Elle said, anger flaring. “Holmes was supposed to be watching Richard. Instead, my damn ex-fiancé almost abducted me.”
“Well, your crazy ex drugged a federal agent. Holmes believes Carmichael doctored the coffee he bought him. Probably just over-the-counter sleeping pills, but they knocked Holmes out. He was furious, and he’s gonna have what’s left of the java tested. I thought the poor guy was going to explode when I told him Carmichael had attempted to snatch Elle. I got the feeling this stunt was the last straw. There may be a BOLO out for Carmichael already.” Sean laughed.
Only Obsession (Rogue Security Book 3) Page 23