Lewis Security

by Glenna Sinclair

  We ran down the facts—where she was last seen, the cab they got into, all of it. By the time I finished they were chomping at the bit, straining to get out there and bring her back. Bring them both back, I corrected myself.

  “Do you think they’re together?” Dylan asked.

  “We do. I mean, we can’t assume anything, but it makes sense when you start thinking the way he does. He’d want to show Christa where he’s been hiding all this time, and we have to go with the idea that Lizzie is with him.” I didn’t like the number of assumptions he was making, even when he said we couldn’t afford to make any. That’s all any of it was. It was all assumption. We assumed he had Lizzie still and that she was still alive. We assumed Christa was in the same place and also still alive. Too many assumptions for my taste.

  “How are you holding up?” Spencer asked in a low voice.

  “As well as can be expected, but I’m not the issue here.” I wanted to clear that up right away, just in case any of them got the wrong idea. We weren’t going to do anything for me. We were doing it for her. For both of them.

  “The sooner we get the two of them back, the better off we’ll all be,” I said in a strong voice. “I’m calling on all of you to help. This has to be all of us, together. Yeah, the police are doing everything they can, but we’re the ones who take the chances. We know what we have to do to take down someone like this when there are lives in the balance. And Christa knows us—we’ve all worked together before. We understand each other. I would rather have you guys in there with her and my daughter than anybody else.”

  “Let’s get started, then.” Brett looked like he was ready to kill somebody. His eyes were narrow and hard.

  Ricardo’s phone rang. The room went silent as he answered. “Yes? Okay. What’s the address?”

  My heart leaped into my throat when he said those words. It felt like a gift from above. I saw the same hope in their eyes as I felt in my heart. Please, let this be something, I prayed to whoever might be listening. I would give anything, absolutely anything, to get a clue as to where he took them.

  Ricardo hung up and walked to the door. We followed him out without question. “The LoJack system on the car tracked it to the piers off the Hudson. The cab driver’s phone is untraceable—there’s no signal now whatsoever. We’re thinking it’s either off or destroyed.”

  “I have a bad feeling about that cab driver,” Dylan muttered through clenched teeth.

  Ricardo nodded sharply. “Yeah. So do I. Let’s meet up at the station and we’ll go over the details.” We took the car we’d come in while the others drove their own.

  ***

  “We have eyes on the pier—so far, there’s no signs of life coming from inside any of the sheds there.” There was a map spread out on the wall of the room which held my guys and Ricardo’s—it was a tight fit, but nobody was complaining. “Smythe might’ve gotten smart and trashed the car by now—we’re not sure. But he wasn’t fast enough—we had enough time to track the signal.”

  “And you’re sure it was that cab in particular?” Spencer asked.

  He nodded. “We’ve double checked against the footage from the shoe store—besides, it’s the only cab in the company’s fleet that’s currently off the grid. Everybody else has checked in.”

  “Who was the driver?” one of the cops asked. Funny, using past tense, but it made the most sense. The guy was probably ancient history by then. Poor guy.

  “His name’s Antonio Silvestri, age sixty-eight. We can’t assume he’s dead—he might be there with the girls, for all we know, and his phone got destroyed. Who knows?” We knew, but I had to give Ricardo credit for acting as though there were three hostages and not two.

  “How many sheds are there on the pier?” Brett asked.

  “Four. We don’t have a visual of the cab—it could be hidden in some underbrush. God knows there’s enough of it down there. Those piers haven’t been used in decades, as you all know.”

  “Aren’t they doing some kind of work down there? Some development?”

  He nodded. “Only it’s about a half to a full mile away, so there’s little chance of any construction workers or even foot traffic. It’s as abandoned as can be.” And to think, there I was, researching real estate records. Like Smythe would go that route. Shouldn’t I have known better by then? The rest of them kept talking while I accused myself over and over for being so blind. He was one step ahead of me all the time, every minute. He had planned it all out like a chess match, plotting his moves depending on the moves I made. I couldn’t imagine how many scenarios he’d come up with over the years, and how many responses he came up with to counter whatever we did to stop him.

  I looked at the map, then at the Google Earth images on Ricardo’s laptop. My baby, in a place like that? She had never known anything but comfort and safety, but she’d spent the last week in a festering hell hole like what I was looking at. There were holes in the windows, the rooftops. I could just imagine the animals that nested in those sheds, not to mention the homeless people and God only knew who else. After all, Smythe knew about them and was able to get into one of them. If he could do it, anybody could.

  “You okay?” Ricardo pulled me aside.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  That didn’t change the look of concern on his face. “You’re sure? Because this is for real. We can’t afford to hesitate when the time comes. I know you know that.”

  “I do know it.”

  “This might mean taking massive risks. You have to know that, too.”

  “I do. I feel like we’re wasting time, going over these things.” I was straining, beyond ready to get out there and bring my baby home—not to mention the woman I loved. I could still remember the feeling of being inside her. The last time we were together, on my desk, and the way she’d smiled and giggled and played along when we pretended we were sneaking into our parents’ house late at night. The way she always smiled and laughed and made me feel so good. I would never regret meeting her in Jamaica, not ever. I only hoped she didn’t regret getting involved with me, since Smythe never would’ve taken her if it wasn’t for me.

  I couldn’t kid myself. It was all my fault, no matter what anybody else said. The guy hated me and I hated him right back, but he was the one who was willing to stop at nothing. I hadn’t allowed myself to get as nasty and brutal as him. Not up until that point. But I was past having principles. He had pushed me way past that point.

  “I haven’t changed my mind,” I said, looking at the floor, keeping my voice low so only he could hear it. “I have to kill him for this. I want it to be me. I need it to be.”

  “I know. And we’ll do everything we can to make sure it can be that way. God, I can’t believe I’m actually saying this.”

  “Buy you are, because you know it’s right—and I’m going to hold you to it.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said with a defeated sigh. “I’m gonna get you a vest, and I want you to wear it.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “You need it, and that’s non-negotiable. I don’t want your little girl watching you get blown away if there’s something I can do to prevent it. If you’re set on being the one to end that fucker’s life, you have to do this for me.”

  “Fine,” I agreed. “Let’s get this over with and figure out where my baby is.”

  Chapter Twenty – Christa

  We were alone. Lizzie was relaxing, thank goodness. Still, I wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. How far gone was she? Would she even respond to the kindness I wanted to show her?

  “Honey? Do you remember me?” I finally whispered when I was sure he wasn’t anywhere near. I didn’t know where he’d planned on going. I only knew he wasn’t in our presence, and that was a good thing for the time being.

  She looked up at me, but only for a split second. Her eyes went back down to the dirty hands she folded in her lap. “Yeah.” I could barely hear her whisper.

  “Have yo
u been here all this time, sweetheart?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “He never took you anywhere else?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Do you mind if I touch you? I just wanted to make sure you don’t have bad bruises or anything. Is that okay?”

  She waited a while, thinking it over. “Yeah. I guess so.” I started checking her out, and aside from the dirt of a week without showering, she didn’t look too bad. A little thinner than she should’ve been, but I had seen worse examples of kids who’d been mistreated.

  “Did he…?” I pointed down to my crotch.

  She shook her head. “Nope.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  “I know what rape is,” she said, sounding very old and very tired. “He didn’t do that. He didn’t even touch me there.” What a relief.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Always.”

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I wish I had something for you. I didn’t expect to be here right now, or I would’ve brought something. I promise, I’m gonna get you out of here as soon as I can. When I do, we’ll go get you something. I swear.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Her chin trembled.

  “What do you mean? Of course, it matters.” I tucked dirty blonde hair behind her ears. “You matter. So many people are looking for you right now.”

  “No, they’re not.” She shook her head. Tears hit the backs of her hands. My heart ached for her, and the pain she had already been through. No little girl her age should ever have gone through that sort of pain.

  “Sure, they are. Honey, I was just with your dad, maybe twenty or thirty minutes ago. He’s spent every waking minute of every day looking for you since you went away.” I tried to be as delicate as possible with that last part. I didn’t want to bring up too much of what she’d been through.

  “That’s not what he told me.”

  “He? You mean that man?” I wished I could rip his beating heart out of his chest and make him watch as I held it in my hand.

  “Yeah. He said nobody cares about me now, that Daddy was in Jamaica with his new girlfriend and he didn’t care that I was here.”

  Sick son of a bitch. “That’s not true, honey. He’s telling you lies to make you sad.”

  “I’m already sad!” Her voice was a wounded howl.

  I barely held back the tears. “I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to take all of this back. Believe me, I was with your daddy when he found out what happened. He is absolutely frantic, trying to find you. Him and all the cops he knows.”

  She wiped her eyes with her fists. “He knows what happened to Mom?” She sounded dead inside when she said it.

  “Yes, sweetheart. He knows. I’m so sorry about that, too.”

  “Was he upset?”

  “You have no idea how much. He would never let you see him get that upset, but believe me, he was a mess. Yelling and crying.”

  “Poor Daddy.” Her chin trembled again.

  “But you know what your dad does when he feels that way? He takes all those bad feelings inside and turns them into a reason to work even harder. Honey, he is working so hard right now to get you home. So, so hard. You have no idea. I’m actually a little worried about him—he hasn’t slept or eaten much. I bet you now that I’m here with you, it’ll be easier to find us.”

  “How?” There was a spark of hope in her voice. I hoped I didn’t end up regretting telling her that—I would hate to break a promise to the poor kid.

  “Well, let’s see.” I thought fast, trying to put it together for myself. “My phone was still on the ground in the alley. You know Detective Montez?” She nodded. “He knew the alley I was in. That man broke my phone and left it on the ground. So if they found it, and I’m sure they did, they’ll know something bad happened to me. We took a cab to get here, so I bet they’ll be able to trace which cab we took. Once they find out the cab driver is…not driving anymore…they’ll know something happened. They’ll want to find their cab, right? I mean, there are so many ways for them to find us now.” The more I talked, the more I bought into my own story. It all made sense, really. They might be able to track the cab’s location, for all I knew.

  I stood up, looking around. “Let’s test out how far we can go,” I said, helping her to her feet. She was a little shaky, but that was no surprise. The poor kid hadn’t eaten a decent meal since a week earlier—and even then, even if she had been eating, her mind was completely a mess. Poor baby. I felt such a swell of protectiveness toward her it took my breath away. I would die for that girl, if it came down to it. She was worth that.

  We stretched out the chain as far as it would go and only got to around eight feet away. I was still several feet from even the closest crates. I could reach the barrel with the fire inside, but that wouldn’t do a lot of good. I tested the chain around her ankle to see if it was at all loose. It wasn’t.

  “Help me look around the floor for something I can use to pry this plate up. If we can get it up, we can get out of here.”

  “Are you sure that’s safe?” she whispered, trembling.

  “Honey, I’m with you now. Believe me, I’ve faced way scarier guys than him. He’s nothing. He’s a coward, and ugly, and weak and awful. I can take him if I have to.”

  “So why didn’t you before?”

  Her words shook me to my core. “I don’t know, baby. I’m sorry. I should have. I just didn’t know what he was going to do if I attacked him. He might have shot you. He might have shot me and left you alone again. I just couldn’t take that chance, you know?”

  She appeared to be thinking it over. “Okay. I get it.” Just that easy. In the blink of an eye we were both on the floor, scouring on our hands and knees for some sort of tool.

  “What about this?” She held up a piece of metal between her thumb and forefinger.

  “Good eyes,” I said, taking it from her. It was dangerously sharp but might do the job. “Tear up a blanket for me. Just a few strips for me to wrap around my hand.” While she did that, I tested the metal on the screws in the corners of the plate. “I think this might work, but it’ll take time—and it’ll be dangerous, too.”

  “I can help.” She handed me strips of cloth, which I wrapped around my hand to protect it while I worked. My heart raced a mile a minute. When was he coming back? How long would it take for the little piece of metal to work the big, heavy screws free?

  “You already have. Thank you, honey.” I stroked the top of her head—anything to show her a little warmth and affection just then. She needed it so desperately. “You just rest for now, okay? Because once we’re free, we’re going to have to run really fast. Got it?”

  She nodded reluctantly and settled into her little bed while I got to work. I felt her big, frightened eyes on me as I worked the metal shard in a slow circle. Come on. Come on. Please, please, please. Please, work. Let me get us out of here. We have to get out of here. I have to get her someplace safe. Please, please. I turned it as slowly as I could to keep from breaking it and leaving it useless, while I angled it in such a way that it picked up as much of the screw’s head as possible. Please, please, please. God, please. Do me this favor. I’ll never ask for anything again as long as I live.

  It moved. Just a little bit, but that was enough.

  “Okay, sweetie, I have another job for you.” I was so relieved, it was almost hard to speak without laughing. “Once I have this loosened up enough, I need you to unscrew it the rest of the way while I start working on the next one.” I could tell she was eager to do something, anything, to help get us out. She jumped into action, hovering over me, watching breathlessly as I kept turning the metal inside the screw’s head. Finally, when it started moving more freely, I let her do the rest. Her little fingers moved nimbly and she had it all the way out before I even got the second screw to move.

  “Great job,” I whispered. “Now, keep an ear out for him. I don’t want him coming back to find me doing this.” It w
as a way to keep her from hovering over me, too. She was blocking the light from the fire, and the pressure wasn’t helping, either. Sweat rolled down the back of my neck and dripped into my eyes as I struggled to work the second screw loose.

  “He never stays for very long,” she said as I worked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’ll check in on me, but he won’t stay. He leaves me alone most of the time.”

  “That’s good to know.” I didn’t exactly feel like hanging out, reminiscing. Then again, now that she had an adult with her—an Army vet, at that—he might want to be more cautious against leaving her with me.

  “Shit!” I cut my finger in spite of my caution, and a thick line of blood appeared as if by magic. How was I going to explain that when he saw it? I had really done a number on myself, too. It was a deep cut, all the way across the tip of my index finger.

  “Did you get it?” she whispered.

  “Not yet. I’m trying. Rip me off another piece of blanket so I can bandage this up.” I kept working in spite of the blood and the unfathomable amount of bacteria on the metal. I had to keep going. I could always get a shot at the hospital or something. I ran the back of my other arm over my forehead to catch the sweat there. Blood dripped onto the floor—I could always throw a blanket over it to cover it up if he came back.

  “Hurry, hurry,” she whispered.

  “I’m trying…here! The second one!” She got to work while I started on the third. Only one more to go after that one was out. My finger throbbed and burned horribly, but it could’ve been a lot worse. I reminded myself of that as I strained to get the screw free.

  “Wait.” She held an arm out to stop me, frozen like a deer in headlights. I froze, too. “He’s coming.”