by Jamie Hill
Jarrett made a call on his radio then turned back to Nick. “Two other cars are on their way, coming in silent. I’ll cover you now. Have you got a vest?”
“Yeah.” Nick reached into the backseat for his bullet-proof gear.
“Good. Put it on and drive the car up, blocking the door of the unit. Once the guy has what he needs you can take off. I’ll follow you for a few miles to make sure you aren’t being pursued.” He exited the vehicle.
Nick nodded and stepped out to don his vest. He glanced at Jarrett over the roof of the car. “Thanks a lot. I appreciate the assistance.”
Jarrett nodded. “I’ve got your cell number. I’ll touch base with you shortly.” He slipped off to where his car was parked around a corner.
Nick got back into the SUV and drove across the road to the storage facility, pulling up in front of Charlie’s unit. The door was open and Charlie was inside, tearing through boxes.
When Nick pulled up Charlie jumped and turned around, waving a Taser. He relaxed when he realized who it was. “Oh, hey man! You’re here. Cool! Maybe I won’t have to take the bus home.”
He tried to control his temper. “No, Charlie, you sure won’t. Mainly because you don’t have a home anymore. I have half a mind to kick your ass all the way to your new destination except Jordan made me promise not to.”
Charlie glanced around. “Jordan? Is she here?”
“Well she was, and then we came here looking for you and someone knocked us out and kidnapped her. So no, now she’s not here.”
The man’s face fell. “Oh, God. I’m sorry.” He looked closer at Nick’s head. “Wow. They got you, too. I never meant for anything like that to happen.”
Nick frowned. “As much as I’d like standing here discussing what exactly you did think would happen, we’re in a very dangerous situation. Have you found what you’re looking for, because we need to go.”
“I’m close.” Charlie went back to digging through his things.
“You’ve got two more minutes then we’re leaving, flash drive or not. Your life won’t be worth a plugged nickel if they catch wind you’re here, and I’m not feeling great about Jordan’s chances, either.”
“Okay, okay.” He picked up the pace, sorting through things and quickly tossing them aside.
Nick kept a wary eye out. He couldn’t see Jarrett or any other officers which mildly concerned him, because that probably meant he wouldn’t see an approaching hit man, either. “Hurry up, Dude.”
“I’m hurrying. Wait…I think…yes!” He waved a memory stick in the air. “I found it!”
Nick glanced at him quickly. “Are you sure that’s it?”
“I’m positive.” He shoved the stick in his pocket and picked up a black backpack.
“Good. Then let’s go.” Grabbing Charlie by the arm, he ushered him into the SUV then lowered the overhead door to the storage unit. “Lock?”
Charlie handed it over.
Nick fastened the heavy padlock and hurried back into the car, then drove off.
“Where are we going?” Charlie’s voice was breathy, excited.
Of course he’s happy. He got what he wanted, at Jordan’s expense. “Not quite sure. Right now we’re just going to drive. The cops are following us, and they’ll let me know if anyone suspicious is tagging along.”
Charlie looked out the window nervously.
“What, you didn’t think of that? You came all this way never thinking that VanDyke or Rossi or someone might have hired a hit man to take you out?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged.
Nick glanced sideways at him then shook his head. “You’re in witness protection, man. You broke about a hundred rules doing what you did. Do you get that?”
“I guess. What did you mean about me not having a home anymore?”
“Are you kidding me? You can’t go back to Topeka. Your location has been compromised. My chief is going to tell me what happens next. I’m pretty sure we’ll hide out here for a while until we find Jordan. After that, it’s hard to say. We’re so close to the trial, we may remain in hiding ‘til then.”
Charlie looked at him. “What if we don’t find her?”
The question made Nick’s heart lurch. He didn’t know the answer, and wasn’t willing to consider it at this time.
His cell phone rang and he grabbed it. The number was unknown. “Pierce,” he barked.
“It’s Jarrett. I think you’re clean. There’s been no sign of anyone following you.”
“Thanks a lot for your help. I really appreciate it.”
“You’ve got my number on your phone now. If you need it, use it. We’ll do what we can.”
“Thanks again.”
“Good luck, Pierce.” The officer ended the call.
Nick pulled into a restaurant parking lot and dialed Evan.
“Tell me you have good news,” his chief answered.
“I’ve got Charlie, so that’s something. We’re away from the storage facility and so far all is well. It’d be nice if I had a destination though.”
“Ben is texting an address to you as we speak. Plug it into your GPS. LA Witsec tells me the safe house is within thirty minutes of the storage place. You’ll be met by a Marshal Woods who’ll give you keys and leave some supplies.”
“Okay, sounds good. Are they giving us any help?”
“Absolutely. They’re all over this thing. I’ll clue you in when we get there, which should be another hour or so.”
“Understood. Thanks.” Nick pressed the off button and glanced at his text messages. Ben had sent him the address, and he plugged it into his GPS. “We’ve been instructed to go to a safe house. It looks fairly close.”
“Great.” Charlie glanced around. “Do you suppose we could get something to eat? I’m starving.”
Nick frowned but tried to hold his temper. Doing ‘normal’ things felt wrong with Jordan missing, but they had to carry on. He couldn’t deny the rumble in the pit of his stomach. Part of it was nerves, but he was hungry, too. “Sure. We’ll drive through and get some food. After that, the house is supposed to be stocked.”
He was slightly tired of fast food burgers but didn’t have the heart or energy to seek out something better. The idea that he didn’t know what Jordan was eating—if Jordan was eating—made him physically sick. He tried not to dwell on it.
They ate on the way to the house, a small bungalow nestled in a quiet neighborhood. A black SUV was parked in front and a tall, black-haired man exited the vehicle when Nick parked. “Stay here,” he told Charlie, and approached the other man. “Woods?”
“Yeah.” The man showed his badge. “Kevin Woods.”
Nick showed his badge and they shook hands. “Nick Pierce. I’ve got my witness in the car.”
Woods pushed the button of a garage door opener in his hand. “Go ahead and pull in the garage. I’ll meet you inside.” He entered the house.
Nick did as directed and lowered the door before allowing Charlie to grab his bag and get out. He thought briefly about retrieving his own case but knowing Jordan’s was also in the SUV, he decided against it. It wouldn’t take much to cause him to lose it. He was barely holding it together as it was.
He walked into the house with Charlie behind him. It was small, decent enough for their needs. Hopefully we won’t be here long. He looked at the other marshal. “Thanks for meeting us.”
“Oh, I’m staying. My chief has assigned me to you for as long as I’m needed.”
“Great. My chief and another marshal are on their way, but we don’t know the area. We’ve got to figure out where and who has taken my partner.”
Nick’s heart lurched again. Partner. No truer words. He fought back the emotion welling in his eyes.
His phone buzzed with a text notification and he pulled it out. It was from Jordan. His eyes popped as he scrambled to access the message.
There were no words, just a photo of Jordan, eyes closed, both sides of her face swollen and bruised.
<
br /> “Fuck!”
“What is it?” Woods hurried to his side.
Nick held up the phone. “My partner.”
Woods grabbed it. “Okay, let’s put a trace on her cell. Maybe we can see where it’s at.” He copied down her phone number and handed the cell back to Nick. Woods pulled out his own phone and stepped into another room to make a call.
Nick stared at the photo, and then typed a reply. What do you want? He hit send.
You know what we want, came the response.
Where can we meet? Nick knew Witsec would never swap Jordan for Charlie. But he would, in a New York minute. If he could arrange it before Evan arrived, the whole thing might be over.
We’ll be in touch.
Nick inhaled, exhaled, and waited.
Chapter Eight
California State Prison, Corcoran
Level IV Housing, General Population
Corcoran, California
Van settled into a chair at the interview table and adjusted the metal cuffs around his wrists. His lawyer was here, along with several people he didn’t know. Two men in a black suits and a woman with long brown hair wearing a pantsuit, all stood in the corner.
Cops or lawyers. He could smell them a mile away.
Oliver Bean stepped forward and the stony-faced group followed. “Van, we have a situation,” his lawyer began. “A US Marshal has been kidnapped, and they believe it’s in conjunction with your case.”
Van raised his shackled hands in a small shrug. “How could I have anything to do with it, or any knowledge of it, for that matter? I’m secluded in here. My only contact with the outside world is you, or my kids, once a week.”
One of the suited men spoke up. “Yeah, you’re innocent as a God damned newborn baby, aren’t you VanDyke? This particular marshal was protecting a witness to the murder of Roy Melton. You didn’t get the witness, but you got someone to trade for him, isn’t that right?”
Before he could speak, the man went on, “You know what, VanDyke? It’s not going to work. We’ll never agree to such an exchange. If anything happens to the marshal, the charges against you will multiply so fast your head will spin. We’ll see if we can’t work the death penalty in there somewhere. Nothing’s too good for you, scumbag.”
The woman spoke up. “You need to call off the dogs surrounding Pete Rossi as well. He’s being terrorized in prison.”
Van pretended to wipe his eye. “I’m shedding a tear for Rossi, that stupid fucker. I’ve got no connections to anybody, so once again your dogs are barking up the wrong tree.”
She scowled. “He received a present and the ominous warning, ‘Mr. VanDyke sends his regards’. Come off it. That sounds a lot like you.”
“Lady, I don’t know you from Adam. Don’t pretend to suggest that you know what I would or wouldn’t do.”
The other man stepped forward. “Mr. VanDyke meet Ms. Winston, attorney for Peter Rossi. I’m Alfred Canady, the District Attorney who’ll be trying your case.” He motioned toward the other man. “This is Detective Ryan with the Los Angeles Police Department. We’ll all be working very closely in this matter until the marshal is located and the trial gets underway.”
Van shrugged again. “Look, I hope you find her, I really do. I just can’t help you. I know nothing about it.”
The DA raised his eyebrows. “Her?”
Van cocked his head. “Huh?”
Canady continued, “You hope we find her? Who said it was a woman?”
His heartbeat increased and Van tried to remain calm. He pointed to the detective. “He did. How else would I know? You people think you’re such big shots, coming in here spouting off and trying to pin everything on me. Well, I got nothing to add. I had no knowledge of any marshal, or any rats. Other than Rossi, the biggest rat of all.”
Canady smiled and stepped back. “Thank you, Mr. VanDyke. No one mentioned the marshal’s gender, or exactly what type of ‘present’ Rossi got in prison. You’ve just proven that you do know more than you’re letting on, and are perhaps better connected than you’re leading us to believe. We’ll do some digging into your family and the people you see here in Corcoran. One way or another, we’ll sort it all out. The trial starts in two weeks. We’ll be ready. I trust you will be, too.”
Van wanted to smack himself in the head. Without realizing it, he’d just brought a shit storm down on the people he loved, and the ones he could trust. He needed to find a way to let them know. “I’ve got nothing else to say to you. I’d like to speak to my lawyer in private, now.”
Canady turned to Bean. “Please tell your client that the only way he stands a chance is to work with us on this. If he continues looking out solely for his own interests, things will be very, very hard for him.”
“I will,” Bean agreed.
The DA turned and walked out. The cop and the lawyer each threw him a scowl before doing the same thing. He waited until they were out of earshot, and then looked at his lawyer. “Oliver, I need you to get a message to my son. Tell him things are heating up. That package he was having held for me? He needs to get the word out. They should dispose of it. Now.”
Bean’s face fell. “But you said you didn’t know about—”
Van waved a hand. “Never mind what I said. The cops are going to be watching Tracy’s every move. You heard them, there’s no way they’ll agree to an exchange. He just needs to make arrangements to dump the cargo and figure out another way to get to Allen.”
The lawyer swallowed. “By dump, do you mean…?”
Van squinted. “Just tell him. He’ll know what I mean. And Ollie, do it quickly. The cops won’t waste any time searching his house. They can’t find anything, you got that? Or I’ll know you didn’t do as I asked.”
“I got it.” He looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I’ll call him when I get out to my car. Van, you heard the DA. You’re only making matters worse for yourself.”
Van glanced around and chuckled. “Look where I am, Ollie. How can things get any worse?”
* * *
Los Angeles, California
Nick puttered around the small house, with nothing but time to kill. He’d cleaned up the wound on his head and downed a couple of aspirin. Now he was waiting for Evan and Ben to show up, and waiting for the asshats who had Jordan to make contact again. Waiting.
Charlie had fired up the small laptop computer from his backpack and was settled into an overstuffed chair, happily immersed in reading his manuscript.
Woods had made some calls and discovered that Jordan’s phone was being routed through so many ghost cell towers it would take a team of federal IT whiz kids just slightly longer than forever to pin it down. He sat on the sofa, engrossed in something on his own tablet.
Nick paced some more and sighed. “I hate waiting,” he muttered to no one in particular.
Woods didn’t look up, but said, “My mother used to tell me a story. There was a little bird who waited too long to fly south for the winter. He tried to catch up to the other birds but his wings froze and he fell to the ground, landing in a cow pasture. He laid there trying to get warm, but just then a cow walked by and shit on him. Now he had frozen wings and was stuck in a pile of cow shit. As time went on, the heat from the manure warmed the bird’s body. As he grew warmer, he got happy and started to sing. Just then, a cat came by. He heard the bird singing and found him in the pile of crap. He proceeded to dig him out and eat him.” He glanced up at Nick. “There are three morals to this story. First, not everyone who shits on you is your enemy. Second, not everyone who gets you out of shit is your friend. Do you know the third?”
Nick couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. If you’re warm and happy, even if you’re in a pile of shit, keep your mouth closed.”
Charlie laughed out loud.
Nick rolled his eyes at Woods. “I get it. Things could always be worse. This is a tough one, though. It’s the not knowing that’s killing me.”
Woods nodded. “Have you been partners with her for v
ery long?”
“Not really. We, uh, were partners a few years ago. I’m just filling in right now. Aw, hell, it’s complicated. Let’s just say Jordan and I go back a long way.”
“Got it. Doesn’t matter who it is, something like this sucks, whether you like the other marshal or not.”
“It does,” Nick agreed. It totally sucks.
Charlie continued to stare at his computer as he said, “Oh, he likes her. They made lovey-dovey eyes at each other.”
Nick felt his face flush with heat. “You saw us together like once. We did not.”
The smiling man looked at him. “Yeah, and after you left I saw you in the parking lot, steaming up your truck windows.”
The flush turned into an all-out, red-faced blush. “You want to get back to that manuscript, you weasel? And keep an eye on that flash drive. I might accidently erase it.”
Charlie’s grin widened. “I’ve already saved my book to three different locations on here. But yeah, I’ll cut you some slack since you and Jordan risked your lives coming halfway across the country after me.”
“Starting to regret that,” Nick muttered, pulling back the blinds to peer outside. “All right. Here’s my chief.”
He unlocked the front door and allowed Evan and Ben inside. “Finally. The last couple hours seemed like days.”
Evan dropped two black bags next to the door then examined Nick’s scalp. “Doesn’t look too bad. You feeling okay?”
“I’m okay. But no, I’m not feeling good at all. I got a text.” He pulled out his phone.
Ben set a bag next to the chiefs. “He’s definitely got a hard head.”
Nick shot him a look. “Thanks a lot. You guys need to see this.” As he pulled up the picture of Jordan, he realized Evan and Ben were both scrolling on their phones. They each held their phone up and they all showed the same photo. “What the fuck?”
“We both got them,” Evan said. “We both answered the text and the reply was that they’d be in touch. We haven’t heard anything since then. So the first thing we need to do is try and get a ping on Jordan’s cell phone.”