“I’m afraid you’re right, but there’s always something. I just haven’t thought of it yet.”
Jake laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you will. Your mind is always working overtime. Maybe you should’ve been a cop.”
“I’m a bit small for that, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Jake glanced at her. “But you do look mean.”
Annie giggled and slugged him on the shoulder. “I do not look mean.”
Jake gave her a wink. “I meant it as a compliment. You’re lean and mean in all the right places.”
“Keep your eyes on the road. There’s time for that later.”
Jake roared with laughter. “I might take you up on that.”
He was still laughing when his cell phone rang. He scooped it from his belt holder.
“Give me that,” Annie demanded, holding out her hand. “You’re driving.”
Jake handed her the phone and she put it on speaker. “Annie Lincoln.”
There was a pause on the line and then a deep voice said, “Hello, Annie Lincoln. It’s nice to talk to you.”
Jake frowned and reached for the phone but Annie held on. “Did you want to speak to Jake?” she asked.
“If he’s busy I wouldn’t want to interrupt him.”
Annie motioned for Jake to pull over. He thought it was a good idea, considering the nature of the call.
“He’s right here,” Annie said. “Just a moment.”
Jake pulled to the curb, shut down the vehicle, and took the phone from Annie. “This is Jake.”
“Jake, my friend, it seems we’ve had a little mishap.”
“Oh?”
“I noticed a commotion going on. Police officers everywhere, the media, you and Annie. It’s a nasty, nasty situation. Very unfortunate indeed and an unexpected turn of events, wouldn’t you say?”
“What did you expect? That the police not be called?”
A sigh on the line and then, “I expect people to play fair. Nobody seems to want to play by the rules anymore. It’s a sad situation when you can’t trust anyone.”
Jake slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “You got your money. Isn’t that enough?”
“I got my money, yes, but Mrs. Coleman neglected to hold up her end of the bargain. She couldn’t wait until our little transaction was completed. Women are so impatient these days.”
Jake glared at the phone and raised his voice. “You weren’t going to let her go. I knew it, you knew it, and she knew it.”
“I hadn’t decided that, Jake. But now … now, because of the current situation, somebody must pay.” Another sigh, then, “I must decide who’ll pay for this. I don’t mean financially, of course. That’s already been covered, but someone will pay.”
Annie put her hand on Jake’s arm and shook her head slowly, telling him to remain calm, but he found it hard. He took a breath and said, “You’re the one who’ll pay.”
The caller laughed. It was a sinister sound, designed to mock. “I’m getting tired of being so repetitive, Jake. It’s starting to grate on my nerves and I’d hoped you would know the rules by now. I implore you, for the good of everyone involved, please ensure complete compliance next time. Not just from yourself—you’ve actually been rather good about that—but from the others.”
Jake dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Next time. Always a next time. He changed his mind about taking a rest the next day and vowed to never let up until this scumbag was flat on his back.
“Next time will be your last time,” Jake said firmly. “You have my word.”
“Perhaps it will be, Jake. Perhaps it will be.” A pause. “And now, until we meet again, I must bid you goodbye and please, give my fondest regards to your lovely wife. You’re a fortunate man, you know. A woman like her needs to be protected, guarded, defended with your life. It was such a pleasure to speak to her.”
Jake gritted his teeth and glared at the phone. This guy knew just how to get to him and unfortunately, he was letting it happen.
“Until next time,” the caller said and then the line went dead.
Jake sat a moment and stared quietly out the windshield. This was becoming an extremely stressful job, living every day surrounded with the knowledge of people’s capacity for evil. But the desire to see that evil stopped dead kept him going. Rosemary Coleman might be safe, but Linda Gould was dead and the doctor would have to live with her death on a daily basis. It would never go away.
It had to stop now.
Annie spoke quietly. “We’d better get the recording of this call to Hank. They might be able to make something of it.”
Jake nodded and looked at his watch. “We might not get home before Matty. Maybe you can call Chrissy and let her know to watch for him.”
Annie sighed. “I think you’re right. It seems we haven’t seen much of him in the last few days.”
Jake pushed in the clutch and turned the key, and the vehicle roared to life. “We’ll make it up to him,” Jake said. “He’s a smart kid. He’ll understand.” He pulled from the curb, venting some of his anger by leaving behind another patch of rubber.
Chapter 38
Friday, September 2nd, 3:18 p.m.
HANK WAS AT his desk filling out some paperwork when Jake and Annie arrived at the precinct. He forced a grin when he saw them, tossed his pen aside, and sat back.
“Have a seat,” he said.
Jake and Annie sat in the guest chairs.
“So much paperwork,” Hank said with a sigh. “If I didn’t have to spend so much time at my desk I might be able to get this case wrapped up sooner.”
Jake handed his cell phone to Hank. “I got another call.”
Hank raised his brows and leaned forward. “Already? Not another kidnapping?” he asked as he took the phone from Jake.
“Not yet,” Jake said. “Just a warning. And a threat.”
Hank listened to the recording of the call. When it was finished, he said, “Someone’ll pay? What could he mean by that?” He sat back and rubbed his chin. “We’d better keep Mrs. Coleman under twenty-four-hour guard until this is wrapped up.”
“Perhaps he means the next victim or someone else entirely,” Annie said.
Hank seemed to consider that a moment before spinning around in his chair. “Callaway,” he called.
Callaway looked up from his monitor and Hank beckoned him over and handed him the phone. “Make a copy of this call. And see if you can find out where it came from.”
“I’ll get right on it, Hank.”
“And did you find out who owns that store?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it.” Callaway hurried back to his desk.
Hank folded his arms. “The detail Detective King put together has finished canvassing the city looking for that white van.” He shook his head. “No luck. That seems to be a dead end, but now I have them out looking for blue vans.”
“At least that one’s a solid lead,” Annie said. “And there won’t be as many of them.”
“That’s for sure,” Hank said. “The list is rather short. I hope to hear something soon.”
Jake spoke up, “And what about the woods where Mrs. Coleman was abducted? Anything there?”
Hank shrugged. “Nothing in the woods that looks promising, but officers are checking door-to-door to see if anyone saw anything in the area, specifically a blue van. I’m presuming she was taken away in the van Mrs. Coleman saw at the store.”
“What about the sketch artist?” Annie asked.
“He should be at the hospital now. They won’t let Mrs. Coleman leave for a while. Afraid she might have concussion, but she’s safe there.”
“I have to ask,” Annie said. “I know everyone is a suspect, even Walter Coleman—”
“Coleman’s alibi checked out. He was in King City all day yesterday doing a landscaping job. His workers vouched for that as well as the client. There’s no way he could’ve been home before five p.m.”
“So who does that leave us
with?” Jake asked.
Hank sighed. “Nobody. Which makes it more important than ever we find that blue van and its driver.”
Callaway approached Jake and handed him back his phone. “I’ll dissect that recording,” he said to Hank. “There might be something on it.”
“Any luck tracing the call?”
Callaway shrugged. “It’s almost impossible to trace a call after the fact. I’m afraid that’s a dead end.”
~~*~~
WHEN JAKE AND ANNIE got home, Jake went straight out to the back deck and sat down, propping his feet up on another chair. He could see Matty and Kyle next door, kicking around a soccer ball.
He stood and leaned over the railing and called to his son. “Matty, come here a minute, will you?”
Matty spun around, grinned when he saw his father, and sped up onto the deck. He bounced on the edge of a chair.
“What’s up, Dad?” he asked.
Jake looked at his son with pride. He seemed to be growing bigger every day. “I just wanted to talk to you a minute.”
“Sure.”
“I realize your mother and I have been pretty busy lately, often in the evenings, and haven’t been able to spend a lot of time with you.”
“That’s okay. I know what you and Mom do is important. And everybody at school knows who you guys are. That’s all the kids are talking about these days and about the kidnappings and stuff.”
Jake laughed and then asked, “How about you and I take a little fishing trip one of these days soon? Maybe go up to Grand River or Humber River for a couple of days and see if we can bring home a few trout.”
“Yeah, that sounds cool, Dad. When can we go?”
“As soon as we get this case wrapped up.” Jake sighed. “I hope it won’t be long.”
“Can Kyle come too?” Matty asked.
“Sure, why not. We’ll make it a guy thing. Camping out. Black flies, mosquitoes, the whole shebang. It’ll be great.”
Matty jumped up. “Hey, Kyle,” he shouted. “Get over here.”
Kyle appeared a moment later, gasping for air. He looked expectantly at Matty.
“Wanna go fishing with us?” Matty asked.
Kyle frowned. “Right now?”
Matty giggled. “No, in a few days. Just you, me, and my dad.”
“Sure,” Kyle said. “Mom won’t mind.”
“Yeah, she’ll probably be glad to get rid of you for a couple of days,” Matty said dryly and then ducked as Kyle aimed a punch at his shoulder. The two boys charged back out to the yard and in a minute, were rolling around on the grass.
Annie stepped from the back door onto the deck. She’d fixed up a jug of ice-cold lemonade and she set it on the table along with four glasses, and filled two.
Jake told her of his plans to take the boys fishing.
“What about Hank?” Annie asked.
“Nah, not this time. He’ll have so much paperwork to do after this case he’ll still be doing it when we get back. He won’t even notice we were gone.”
Chapter 39
Friday, September 2nd, 4:18 p.m.
HANNAH MARTIN pulled her SUV into the driveway. It’d been a long day and she was glad to be home. Once she got the groceries in the house and put away she would take a break and maybe enjoy a cup of tea.
She popped the trunk, stepped from the vehicle, and stopped short as a yellow van pulled into the driveway beside her. Perhaps it was the plumber. The kitchen sink was leaking and she’d been after Eli to get someone to fix it. Funny thing though, the van had no sign or other markings on it.
She waited until the passenger door opened and a man stepped around the front of the van. He wore a baseball cap, pulled low, but she saw he had a number of scabs, nicks, and healing wounds on his face, like he’d been in a car accident, or some kind of scuffle.
“Mrs. Martin?” he asked.
She answered cautiously. “Yes?”
“I have a delivery for you.”
She watched curiously as he moved to the side of the van, ground the door open, and reached in. He turned around with some kind of a black cloth bag in his hand. Whatever could be in that bag?
With one deft move he slipped the bag over her head and drew the drawstring tight. She struggled and swung at him to no avail. Strong arms held her from behind, spun her around, and pushed her, kicking and trying to scream, into the side door of the van.
Then she was rolled onto her stomach, her hands wrenched behind her, and she felt him on top of her, weighing her down. A cable tie zipped and she was helpless. Through the cloth bag, she felt the cool metal of the truck bed on her face. The confines of the bag, along with a sudden panic which overtook her, made it hard to breathe.
His weight was removed from her back, the van door slammed, and, in a few moments, the engine roared as the vehicle backed from the driveway. She struggled against her bonds as the van braked to a stop, then leaped forward, picked up speed, and carried her away.
She’d heard about the kidnappings that had taken place lately. Was this the same man she’d heard about on the news? Was she now about to be treated like a piece of merchandise? Would her husband pay the ransom? Of course he would, but they weren’t rich. She feared for her life and lay trembling and feeling very much alone.
After a few minutes, the van pulled to a stop and the engine died. The driver-side door creaked and then slammed. All was silent for several long minutes, seemed like hours, she couldn’t tell. Too many thoughts in her head, too much terror.
She struggled to remove the bag but the drawstring was too tight, her hands helpless. She kicked against the door, but nobody came to help. Nobody heard her muffled screams and nobody knew where she was.
The van door slid open and rough hands grabbed her from behind and half-dragged her from the vehicle. She tried to stand, stumbled, then was prodded forward, unable to see, and pushed through a doorway.
“Watch the steps.”
While held from behind, she felt her way down a flight of stairs. She was greeted by a strong odor, something chemical, and an unknown taste assaulted her taste buds.
When her feet touched the hard floor, she was pushed to the right, a door creaked open, she was prodded again, and then the bag was loosened from around her throat and removed. She took a breath and gasped in the damp, clammy air.
When she turned around, her abductor had gone from the tiny room that now held her, slamming the door behind him. She heard a bolt slide and she was alone—alone in a small, dark room, the only light seeping from under the sealed door, her hands still tied.
As her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, the tiny ray of light revealed the tomblike space. Concrete floor, concrete walls, cool and damp.
She slumped down against the cold, hard wall and cried.
~~*~~
A CALL CAME in to 9-1-1 at 16:30 hours and RHPD dispatch was notified immediately. A neighbor had witnessed a kidnapping at 96 Westwind Drive. The astute eyewitness had gotten the license plate number of a yellow Chevrolet van that was used to abduct her neighbor, a Mrs. Hannah Martin. First responders were on their way.
Hank was apprised of the situation. The kidnapper had warned there would be another abduction. Hank was expecting it, but not so soon. But at least there was a witness this time.
Hank jumped from his chair, raced across the precinct floor, and dropped a sticky note on Callaway’s desk. “Looks like we might’ve caught a break,” he said. “A yellow van, license number MHW 396. What can you get me on that ASAP?” Hank sat opposite him and waited.
Callaway swung into action, faced his monitor, and tapped rapidly on the keyboard. In a moment, he recited, “MHW 396. MTO has it listed as a red 2014 Hyundai. Registered to a Meyer Summerdale, here in the city.”
Hank tilted his head and frowned. “A 2014 Hyundai? It should be a yellow Chevy van. That’s what the neighbor saw.”
“Are you sure she got the right number?” Callaway asked.
“She seemed positive. Said she wro
te it down right away. Given the accuracy of everything else she said—”
“Just a minute.” Callaway was glaring at the screen again. “A Meyer Summerdale reported his license plates stolen. MHW 396. His vehicle was parked along the curb in front of his house and this morning he noticed them missing.”
Hank slumped back in his chair. He just couldn’t catch a break. He would have a look at the statement the responding officers took and check out Meyer Summerdale, but he doubted it would lead him anywhere.
Chapter 40
Friday, September 2nd, 5:18 p.m.
JAKE WAS IN the backyard with Matty and Kyle when his cell phone rang. He looked at the caller ID, gave the soccer ball one last kick to Matty and answered the call.
“Jake Lincoln.”
“Mr. Lincoln, my name is Eli Martin. It … it’s my wife. She’s been kidnapped and I just got a call from the kidnapper. He … he said I must call you if I ever want to see her again.”
Jake took a deep breath and stepped onto the deck. Here we go again.
“Tell me what happened, Mr. Martin.”
“A … a neighbor saw my wife being abducted this afternoon and called the police. It … it happened right in the driveway of our house. I’ve already given a statement and they said a detective would want to talk to me as well. And then … I received a call from the kidnapper.”
“Did he have a deep voice?” Jake asked. “Like a camouflaged voice?”
“Yes, and he wants fifty thousand dollars. He wants you to deliver it.”
Jake sat on a deck chair and leaned forward. If someone witnessed the abduction, hopefully the police could finally stop this guy before someone else died.
“He said he would call you,” Martin continued.
“I’ll do everything I can to help, Mr. Martin, and to get your wife home safely.”
Captive Justice: A Private Investigator Mystery Series (A Jake & Annie Lincoln Thriller Book 4) Page 14