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Prey - Debt Collector 6 (A Jack Winchester Thriller)

Page 5

by Jon Mills


  “Why?”

  “Ask Mrs. Carson. She has a long list of reasons.”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “Let’s just say that he has a few skeletons in his own closet.”

  Chapter Five

  The only witness was a sex offender. The boy had run away twice. The police appeared to be doing nothing to find the kid, and the media had released little except a grainy sketch of the driver. He was starting to think that perhaps he was a little over his head on this one. No reliable witness. A history of running away. There had to be something that someone had overlooked. Some small detail that was being left out. As Jack left Dylan’s place, he had time to kill until he would speak with Zach. He decided to book into a Motel 6 for the night. The cabdriver had mentioned there was one on Pacific Boulevard. It was a good fifteen-minute drive away. He pulled out his phone and called an Uber driver to pick him up.

  Ten minutes later he was on his way to the motel with a head full of questions. The whole job was a little more than he was used to. It was one thing to track down someone when friends, family or co-workers might have known where they were but it was another to search for a person that had been snatched off the street.

  Whoever had taken him could have killed him by now. That was the harsh reality. Every parent who had experienced their child being taken wanted to believe they were alive. Sure, there were accounts of kids being held for months, even years in someone’s home or motel by their captor and eventually escaping, but they were few and far between. Most were abused, murdered and dumped in a shallow grave.

  New York City was notorious for that. The streets were littered with runaways. Kids who thought life would be better in the city. Most ended up being pimped out until they were discarded, or worse — they wound up dead with a needle in their arm.

  After booking in, he put on a pot of coffee and snagged up the pad of paper by the phone. He tore off a piece and initially jotted down four names: Trish Carson’s boyfriend Richard Garand, Dylan Nichols, Zach Carson and Michael Carson who was the ex-husband. Then he added Chief Karl Weldon. He went over and poured himself a cup and looked at the names while taking a seat on the bed. It seemed too coincidental for the men who had taken Billy to know he would be out that morning by himself unless they had been scouting. Scouting? He jotted down the phrase. Was there anyone scouting in the area a week or two before they snatched him? There had to have been. He was keen to speak with Zach but even more than that, he needed to know what the police knew. What was causing them to drag their feet? Was it simply a matter of no leads? Abduction cases weren’t always cut-and-dry. Even though most missing cases were connected to someone who knew them or had known the family, that wasn’t always the case.

  Jack went over to his bag and pulled out a tablet. He connected to the Wi-Fi and did a search for the Albany Star website. He browsed pages and clicked on the contact link and looked under the Circulation Department. There he saw the phone number for one Stephen Radcliff. He tapped it into his cell and waited for him to answer.

  “Albany Star, Stephen Radcliff speaking.”

  “Hello Stephen, my name’s Logan Winchester, I’m currently investigating the disappearance of Billy Carson.”

  “Investigating? Are you with the department?”

  “No, I’m working on behalf of the Carson family.”

  “Oh, how can I help?”

  “How many kids do you have working for you?”

  He inhaled deeply and Jack heard him shift in his seat. “Around ten.”

  “Mrs. Carson had mentioned that her son and several others had seen a car in the area at the time of his disappearance. Do you recall seeing anything?”

  “I’ve already given my statement. I didn’t see anyone. I’m responsible for bringing the papers up every morning. I unload, they take their bundles and I’m on my way. The rest of my job involves sales and administration.”

  Jack took a sip of his coffee. He nearly spat it back in the cup. It was awful. “I understand. Well, did Zach or any of the other boys confide in you that they felt as if they were being watched?”

  “Look, Mr. Winchester. This is the first time anything like this has happened. It’s been very upsetting and I might add it’s caused a number of our kids to no longer want to deliver. I’ve already dealt with two parents over the past two months who decided to pull out because of what happened to Billy. If I had seen anything that might have given me reason to believe that any of them were in trouble, I would have been the first to jump on it. That morning Zach was meant to do the round and he didn’t show, Billy did. It’s terribly sad and I hope you find what you’re looking for but that’s all I know. None of the kids had seen that vehicle before, and if they had, they didn’t tell me. Believe me, I gave them a hard time about safety.”

  “And yet you let him go out there by himself, even though he wasn’t old enough.”

  “What are you saying?” He raised his voice.

  “I’m saying you let a twelve-year-old boy go out there by himself.”

  “Who the hell are you? If his parents had actually been paying attention, perhaps it wouldn’t have happened. I won’t have you blame me for this. I wasn’t going to let him go but he pleaded with me and… I might come down on them at times, but I have a soft spot for kids.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Look, I don’t know what you are insinuating but we are done having this conversation.”

  With that said he hung up. Jack wasn’t trying to be a jerk, he wanted to push his buttons and see how he reacted. There was a lot that he gleaned in his previous line of work from the way people responded under pressure.

  Jack got up and went over to the counter and poured away the remains of the coffee. It left a nasty, bitter taste in his mouth. He scooped a few handfuls of water up and swirled it around before spitting.

  Returning to the Carson family residence, he noticed that a large number of people had shown up outside. There was a police vehicle, and one officer standing off to one side of the house. Curious, he made his way through the crowd and asked someone what was going on.

  “It’s a vigil. It’s the second one the mother has had since her kid was taken.”

  They were holding candles and many had brought flowers and placed them outside the Carson family home. There were close to a hundred people in attendance. For a short while someone prayed, then someone sang a song before Mrs. Carson came out with Richard and gave a short word to the crowd. Beside them was their other son Zach. He looked similar in appearance to his brother. In the darkness of night, it might have been hard to tell them apart. When Jack had visited the home earlier that day and seen the photo of the family on the side table, he was struck by how similar they looked. They both had the same haircut, and color of hair. The only thing that was really different was their height, but at a glance it would have been easy to think that Billy was Zach. Had the people unknowingly taken the wrong person? Did it even matter?

  As he watched and listened to the family thank the community for their continual support, his eyes drifted over the crowd that had grown in number. While most were holding candles, he noticed one person had a phone in hand and was recording. It might not have seemed odd had he not looked as if he were trying to keep the phone out of sight. His eyes darted Jack’s way and immediately he tucked the phone away, turned and began to walk away at a fast pace. Jack slipped through the crowd trying to keep his eyes on the man. He was bundled up with a scarf and a thick coat that came down to his ankles. He kept looking back as he pressed on. Seeing that Jack was gaining on him, he broke into a fast-paced jog. Just as Jack was getting close, a guy bumped into him and knocked him back.

  “Oh excuse me,” he said before walking on.

  Once Jack got up off the ground, he looked in the direction the man was heading but he was gone. He broke into a run and looked up and down the street but there was no one there. On both sides of the streets were vehicles. It was dark and there was a chance he had ducked
into one of the many alleys down the side of homes. He sighed and was about to head back when a set of headlights flipped on several cars down. He squinted into the night and stepped out onto the road. The car swerved out of its parking space. It was a silver four-door Ford. He stood there expecting it to slow down if it was just a neighbor but instead it began to speed up. Jack had to move out of the way fast or it would have run him over. He thought of running after the vehicle but by now with the noise of the tires burning rubber as it sped away, several people from the crowd were looking on. One of which was the officer.

  As Jack returned, he memorized the license plate number on the back. He hadn’t made it within a few feet of the crowd when the officer quickly darted out and grabbed a hold of his jacket.

  “What’s the hurry?”

  Jack put his hands up and exhaled hard.

  “That car just tried to run me down.”

  The officer looked up the street but the vehicle was now gone.

  “Who are you?”

  “None of your business.”

  Jack tried to move past him but he placed his hand on his chest.

  “Why are you here?”

  “To support the family?”

  “That’s not what I meant. You’re not from around here, are you?”

  “How would you know?”

  “Because I grew up here and in my line of work it’s my job to recognize a face.”

  Jack could see where this was heading. Fortunately Trish Carson must have seen the commotion and made her way over.

  “It’s okay, Officer Reynolds, we know him.”

  “You know him?”

  “He’s looking into the case.”

  “A private investigator?”

  Jack just smiled and readjusted his jacket after the officer released his grip.

  “Does the chief know about this?”

  “No, why should it matter to him?”

  The officer walked a short distance away and made a call into the station.

  “You see, this is what we have had to put up with. They come up with all manner of excuses as to why they haven’t been able to come up with any leads but the moment I take matters into my hands they are all up in arms. Anyway, what was that about?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  She snorted. “Probably a reporter from the Albany Star, or one of the local radio stations. They are always looking for some new angle to put on this, meanwhile my child is still out there and I’m no closer to finding him.” She let out a sigh. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Zach.”

  As they walked back to the house she continued talking.

  “Did you speak to Dylan today?”

  “I did,” he said before giving her a look of concern. She must have realized.

  “Trust me, we already went down that avenue and considered the thought that he might be involved,” she said.

  “And?”

  “He has a rock-solid alibi. His mother.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “Look, Logan, he could have just kept his mouth quiet. If he was involved, what would he have to gain by drawing attention to himself?”

  “Some people enjoy taunting the parents. Did you know everyone in attendance tonight?”

  “Some of them.”

  When they reached the house, Zach had gone inside. Trish led the way and Jack shivered as he stepped into their home. It was freezing outside and the warmth inside began to thaw his hands.

  “Zach, there’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

  Zach appeared at the top of the stairs. He ambled down, a look of resignation on his face. He sat three stairs up from the bottom.

  “Yeah?”

  “I heard you were close to your brother.”

  “I still am.”

  Jack let his words sink in. Zach obviously still believed his brother was alive.

  “What happened that morning?”

  His eyes became downcast. “It should have been me. I could have gone out. I told him I was ill but that wasn’t the truth. I had stayed up late the night before and was exhausted. I asked him to do the route for some extra cash.”

  He shook his head.

  “There’s no point beating yourself up over it, Zach. It is what it is.”

  “Is it? You’re not the one who has to stare into his empty bedroom, or listen to my parents fight or hear my mother cry.”

  He got up and turned to leave.

  “Zach. I’m sorry. Listen, I’m gonna try and find your brother. You have my word on that.”

  “And how are you going to do that? If the police don’t have anything, what makes you think you can do better?”

  He had a point. His words drove home the enormity of the situation. It was unlike anything he had got involved in before. Tracking down people was his job in New York. Busting heads open and disposing of the dead took up most of what he did for Gafino. While he was confident that he could at least find the men who had done this, he couldn’t guarantee that he would be able to bring their son back alive. For all he knew, Billy was already dead.

  “Well for one, the police aren’t actively looking, according to your mother. I am.”

  Zach gripped the railing beside the stairs. “What do you want to know?”

  “Did you ever see anything suspicious when out delivering papers in the weeks leading up to his disappearance? Any vehicles approach you? Any neighbors act a little off?”

  “Nothing that stands out.”

  “And Stephen Radcliff. Any problems with him?”

  Zach’s eyes met his and he shook his head.

  “Look, I saw nothing. I don’t know who would do this. Can I go now?”

  He seemed agitated by the very mention of Radcliff. As Zach returned to his room, Jack thought about his conversation with Radcliff earlier that day. Perhaps he was just having an off day but he couldn’t help sense that he became very defensive at the mention that he might have been close to the paperboys.

  “Zach.”

  He reappeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Who are the other paperboys you see on your route?”

  Chapter Six

  The vehicle stopped on a large private lot beside the South Fork of the Merced River in Yosemite National Park. It was surrounded on all three sides by a lush forest full of giant sequoia trees and the Sierra Nevada Mountains in the distance. William Banks got out of the vehicle and stretched his legs. They had been on the road for longer than he wanted but the thought of what was to come made it worthwhile. He gestured to Garth, a friend and bodyguard of his, to take the boy out.

  A strong sun beat down and he breathed in the smell of the forest. The gentle flow of the river nearby calmed his nerves. Garth yanked the blindfolded kid out of the back. He kicked and struggled to get loose like they all did, but that would eventually change. They all changed. There was fight in them at the beginning. Their natural fight-or-flight instincts dominated their mind for the first month after being taken. Eventually, with the help of Carlos, that soon took a backseat to their will to survive.

  He watched Garth take him in while he stood outside and lit a thin cigar. He placed a quick phone call to one of his colleagues in Nebraska to let him know that the package had arrived.

  Fourteen years of doing this and they had never once got caught. Sure, they came close a couple of times when two boys escaped while in transit, but they weren’t able to explain where they had been taken and no one had ever mentioned their names around the kids.

  Fourteen years, William muttered to himself as he blew large plumes of smoke. He didn’t consider himself a pimp, and yet in some ways he was like that. He catered to a very unique and wealthy clientele. Originally it had started with an all-boys orphanage but that had caused untold issues and they were forced to shut it down. Because clients had very specific tastes, he soon had to look at other ways of obtaining his merchandise. He basked in the sight of the landscape surrounding one of his three private vacation homes. This one was
only a mile from Wawoma; it had a nine-hole golf course and top-of-the-line amenities. But most of all it was private. No one could hear them scream out here.

  “Patrick. William here. You’ll be pleased to know we got one that matches your specifics down to the tee. You up for a flight this weekend?”

  He didn’t need to give him the details; he already knew what that meant. His clients paid large sums of money to have sex with the boys. Most of the time it occurred on his private plane thirty thousand feet in the air. The thing was kitted out with a room with a king-size bed. Those who chose to pay more could have them overnight. He would fly them out, of course they paid extra for that. His clients came from all backgrounds. They were mostly politicians from Washington, D.C., and prominent businessmen from all over the states. They paid handsomely and yet that’s not where the real money was to be found. It was made in arranging large private parties and more specifically the snuff business. If the media truly knew what was occurring under their very noses, it would have shocked the nation. William carried a small black book with him, listing all his clients. The only way a person could become a client was through word of mouth and an extensive background check on the individual. No stone was left unturned because they had too much to risk. Fortunately there were none that wished to suffer the humiliation of having their name out there, and by all accounts his clients were happy with the service they provided.

  To ensure the privacy of his clients, they had to pay up-front a sum of $250,000, and the first sexual act was recorded. It was made known that in the event that they grew a conscience and had a change of heart, the video would go to the media. All ties would be cut, they would deny everything and the client would be indicted on perjury charges.

  If that wasn’t enough of a deterrent, the threat of death was, and William wouldn’t have lost a wink of sleep over it. So far there had been no problems.

 

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