Drawing Fire

by Janice Cantore

  But Mrs. Hoover grabbed her arm. “What’s happened to Nadine?” Her eyes bored into Abby’s, a swirling mixture of anguished emotions—pain, fear, and anger.

  “She was beaten, Mrs. Hoover, pretty seriously. We found her at a hotel on the west side—Hotel Pacific. There isn’t much more I can tell you.”

  She paled. “It’s been over a week. I’ve been searching, praying for her to come home safe. I—”

  Abby feared the woman would faint and shook off her grip only to exchange it for a grip of her own. Taking both of the woman’s arms, she led her to a chair. “Deep breaths, Mrs. Hoover.” She knelt in front of the woman. “Is there someone I can call for you? Someone you want to be here with you?”

  “Where’s Luke? I want Luke.”

  ABBY WONDERED at the flash of discomfort she felt while she watched Murphy soothe Glynnis Hoover. They were obviously close. Which is a good thing, she told herself. I have Ethan. He has Glynnis.

  After a few minutes they parted and Murphy led Hoover to a chair. Nearby there was a box of Kleenex and she made use of it.

  “Mrs. Hoover,” Abby said quietly, “I need to know more about the circumstances surrounding Nadine’s disappearance. Have you any idea why she ran away?”

  Glynnis bounced up, spitting nails. “Oh, now the police are concerned. Now, after my baby’s been broken to pieces.” The sobs started. “You didn’t care before,” she squeezed in between racking, shuddering breaths. “You didn’t care when you could have helped my baby, could have found her.”

  Abby stayed quiet, not minding the woman’s outburst. She was angry and in pain and needed to direct her emotion somewhere.

  Murphy jumped in and grabbed her shoulders. “Glynnis, that’s not fair. Detective Hart didn’t do this to Nadine, but she’ll work hard to find out who did.”

  Glynnis Hoover shook him off and stormed away toward the restroom.

  Murphy turned to Abby. “I’m sorry about that. She’s distraught.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I understand. If she needs to punch me, I can take it.”

  “I’d hate to think of anyone punching you,” he said.

  Abby let the comment pass.

  He looked at her for a moment and then continued. “I’ll tell you as much as I know about her leaving, but you probably already know everything. One of the reasons Glynnis is so upset is that Nadine gave no indication she was unhappy at home and considering running away. On the contrary, the family is very close. Nadine’s father was killed in a traffic accident two years ago, and because of that, Nadine, her mom, and her younger brother have grown extremely close. Nadine got a job after she turned sixteen to help Glynnis with finances.”

  He ran a hand over his hair. “When she disappeared, it was so out of the blue. She had plans to be with us; she was looking forward to Saturday night.”

  “But she sent her mother a text message?”

  “Yeah, they used to text all the time. Glynnis has practically worn her fingers to the bone texting Nadine this past week, but since that one message, there’s been nothing else.”

  “You saw the hotel room. Nadine had clothes with her; she’d packed a bag. That wasn’t an indication she wanted to run away?” Abby asked, remembering what had been strewn over the bed.

  “No, that weekend we had an overnight trip planned.”

  “You and Nadine and her mother?”

  “No, no.” He gave a little chuckle. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought. I told you I’m a part-time youth pastor at our church. That’s how I know Nadine and her mother. I took a group of kids from church to San Diego for a Saturday night crusade the weekend she disappeared. Nadine had packed her backpack that morning and was going to catch a ride with her friend Janey to the church. She’d planned to pick up her pay from work and they would meet. But Janey showed up at church saying she didn’t know where Nadine was. She ended up staying to help Glynnis search that night. As soon as I got back, I jumped in to help as well.”

  Abby considered this. “Did she have any issues at work?”

  “None that I was aware of at the time. But this Sunday I spoke to Janey and she said something happened at work that seemed to upset Nadine. Nadine and Janey both work for Janey’s stepfather, George Sanders. He owns Crunchers.”

  “Crunchers?”

  “What’s wrong? Do you know Sanders?”

  “Unfortunately, I do.” The junkyard had come up all too often recently. “I arrested him once a long time ago for a minor charge. He paid a fine, did community service, and that was it. He always seems to escape the serious charges.”

  “He’s a crook, isn’t he?”

  “Let’s just say he’s shady. And he keeps a very talented attorney on retainer.” He was a man who sent all of her cop instincts into the red zone. And Gunther had mentioned Crunchers in relation to the Dan Jenkins murder. Too many coincidences.

  “What did Nadine do there?”

  “She, um, helped with inventory and was trying to learn basic bookkeeping.”

  “Now it’s my turn. What’s wrong?”

  Murphy gave a little grimace. “Janey confided in me that a couple of weeks before Nadine disappeared, two men came to the yard, men who were mad at Sanders. They wanted something from him.” He told Abby what Janey had told him on Sunday. “I haven’t had a chance to ask Sanders about those two guys or the security video. What I wouldn’t give to be able to look at that video. I’d especially like to now, since I think I saw the big guy following me on Saturday night.”

  “What?” The thought of viewing taped activity at Crunchers made Abby sit up straight, but the last sentence really had her attention.

  Murphy told her about his search with Bill and being shadowed. She knew then all roads would lead to Crunchers. She wanted to get up and pace, but first she showed him Woody’s card with Georgie’s description. “Look at this.”

  His eyes widened. “It’s got to be the same guy.”

  “Bill and I will talk to Sanders. Did he see this guy?”

  “He did, called him a BUG.”

  Abby knew the reference. “The text message also bothers me,” she said. “There was no cell phone at the hotel. And you said her mother has been texting her?”

  “Yes.” They turned at the same time as Glynnis Hoover came back into the waiting room. Her eyes were puffy and red but she was composed. “The first couple of days I sent her a text every few minutes.”

  “And never got a response?”

  “I explained all of this to the juvenile detectives,” she hissed, arms held tight against her chest.

  Abby let that go and held the woman’s angry, pained gaze. “I can’t speak to that, Mrs. Hoover. All I can tell you is that Nadine’s case is mine now, and I will find out what happened and arrest whoever is responsible.”

  A large group of people poured into the emergency room, including her new partner, Bill Roper, and a woman Abby guessed was his wife. The mass swarmed around Glynnis while Bill pulled Abby aside and asked to be brought up to speed. While Abby told him what was going on, she couldn’t help but notice the group crowding together. Some held hands while others had their arms around the person next to them. She believed in prayer but knew that prayer was often not enough when it came to bringing criminals to justice.

  NADINE CAME THROUGH SURGERY and was in recovery before Luke felt he could leave the hospital. The doctor’s report was encouraging. He’d stopped her bleeding, set the worst fractures, and there was no indication of debilitating brain injury. She had a lot of healing to do and would probably need some plastic surgery, but her youth and strength gave her very good odds of a full recovery. Her mother was encouraged and was at Nadine’s bedside, waiting for her to wake up.

  Bill’s wife, Gail, was a nurse at Memorial, so she’d stayed with Glynnis while Bill went with Abby when she left to file her report. Luke had hung in until about eight but wanted to go home and get some sleep.

  “Is there anything else I can do?” Luke asked Glynn
is before he left.

  “Please, bring Gage to the hospital later. He’s going to a friend’s house right after school, but he’ll want to see his sister.” Gage was Nadine’s little brother.

  “No problem. What time should I pick him up?”

  “Around three.” She gave him a piece of paper with the address and the phone number for Gage’s friend. “Thank you for everything, Luke.”

  “Just glad she’s back.” He placed an arm around her shoulders. “And happy to help my friends.” Luke left the hospital relieved he’d have time for a nap. He was beat. But Nadine was alive and the prognosis was good.

  His mother was already in the loop because of the prayer team, and when he got home, she was making arrangements to take a shift at the hospital to spend time with Glynnis.

  Once in his room, he kicked his shoes off and fell into bed. When he closed his eyes, he thought of Abby Hart. A sliver of guilt snaked through him as his thoughts left Glynnis and Nadine and focused on Hart. So cool, so strong. He knew she’d find the person responsible for Nadine’s condition. But the more he saw her, the more he wanted to see her and learn more about Abigail Hart off duty. A pang twisted in his chest as he remembered her engagement and knew he’d never get closer, even though he hoped to keep a connection to her through the Triple Seven investigation. Between the two of them, they’d solve the murders, he was sure.

  Luke was up and ready for a run after ninety minutes of sleep. He’d perfected power naps in the service and was glad they still worked for him. He called Grace for an update.

  “How are things?”

  “Nadine is showing signs of waking up, but she hasn’t opened her eyes yet. Glynnis finally closed her eyes, so I hope she gets some rest.”

  “Do you need me to bring anything besides Gage?”

  “No, we’re well stocked with prayers, love, and food.”

  Luke smiled as he hung up. Glynnis and Nadine had an army praying for them, which had to help.

  He changed into running clothes. Madison was with a homeschool group visiting a museum today. He saw a text from her, so he returned it before he left on his run. Love you too! Learn lots today. Dad.

  He set the phone down, and it immediately buzzed with an incoming call. The screen showed the number as unavailable. Luke guessed it was the PD, but the familiar voice disarmed him.

  “Bullet, is that you?”

  Luke smiled at the sound of the old nickname. “Ice Age? The tanning booth hasn’t melted you yet?” Todd Orson had gotten the nickname Ice Age because of his pale complexion. But since Orson had joined the bureau, Luke had heard a rumor that he’d developed an addiction to tanning booths and his new nickname there was Agent Orange.

  “Ha. Sharp wit as ever.”

  “Great to hear from you. It’s been too long.”

  “Didn’t you get my e-mail?”

  “I did, but life has been crazy lately. I confess I let it go to the back of the brain.”

  “I’ve been promoted in a way, and that’s why I sent the e-mail and why I’m on the phone with you. I’ll be in your neck of the woods soon. Can you squeeze me into your schedule sometime soon?”

  Luke sighed and wondered when he’d fit his friend in. “Are you in town now?”

  “I’ll be there by the weekend. You too busy?”

  “Not for an old friend, but a lot is going on right now. Call me when you get into town and we’ll make arrangements.”

  “Roger that. Take care, Bullet.”

  “You too. Good to hear from you.”

  Luke shoved the curiosity down deep and left for his run. He lived close to a bike path that paralleled a concrete riverbed, or flood control channel, and eventually led to Serenity Park. At the park there was a challenging exercise course, but today he didn’t think he had time for it. He’d just travel out and back.

  The San Gabriel River stretched from the foothills to the beach, emptying into the ocean between Seal Beach and Long Beach. When Luke hit the trail, the water was a thin ribbon in the center of a concrete basin. The flow increased in size and strength as it neared the ocean. It reached peak depth and width about a mile and a half from the park. Huge, uneven rocks lined both sides of the channel, so this was not a river one slid down the bank and swam in. Boaters could chug upriver for a bit if they entered from the ocean, and often on his run Luke would see water-skiers. It was more common that he shared the asphalt path with other joggers and bike riders.

  Within a few minutes he was running at a good pace and enjoying the opportunity to work off the stress from the night before. He thought about the big guy spotted in Nadine’s hotel room and knew it was the same guy he and Bill had seen following them.

  How did Nadine cross paths with such a man except at Crunchers?

  What does Sanders know that he’s been keeping back?

  How could he withhold information that would have helped Nadine, his daughter’s friend?

  Does the security video tell the whole story?

  The more questions raised by the situation, the angrier Luke got. His pace picked up, and he had generated a healthy sweat by the time he reached the last underpass before the branch to the park. When Luke took the right branch to cross over the channel, he’d end up in Long Beach at Serenity Park.

  He’d crossed under several bridges along the way, and every so often homeless people set up camps beneath them. Luke wasn’t surprised to see a person moving around under the bridge near the branch that would take him to his destination.

  But what did surprise him was that there were two men. They weren’t homeless, and they both acted as if they were waiting for him.

  Breathing hard, he shortened his stride and prepared to stop a safe distance from the pair. They could be brothers. Hard-looking men, ex-military, he guessed, but older and before his time.

  “You Murphy?” the one on Luke’s left asked. He wore a plaid shirt open over a gray T-shirt. The other had on a dark-blue hoodie.

  Luke stopped short of the pair, just under the bridge, and swallowed, working to regulate his breathing. At this point the path dipped down nearly even with the water. When there was a lot of rain and the flood control ran high, water splashed across the path. But it was summer now and the path was dry while the water level licked just below.

  “Who’s asking?” Luke asked, hands on hips, breathing slowing.

  Plaid Shirt stepped forward. There was a bulge on the man’s right side barely concealed by the open shirt, and Luke knew the man was armed.

  “Consider me a friend. A friend with a friendly warning.” He raised a hand and pointed an index finger. “Back off the Triple Seven. You have too much to lose.”

  Luke felt his face flush with anger. “Friends don’t threaten friends.”

  “It’s a warning.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. When he unfolded it, Luke saw that it was a computer printout of a picture of Maddie and Olivia playing basketball in the driveway of his home.

  Luke saw red. He felt as though he’d been kicked in the stomach. His nickname, Bullet, came from his temper; when he lost it, he went off like a shot fired. He lunged for the man, hitting him hard with a roundhouse left punch. Plaid Shirt was surprised by the move and put up no defense. He stumbled back and tripped on the rocks. His arms windmilled as he fell backward into the water of the flood control.

  From the corner of his eye Luke saw motion in the direction of the other man and knew he had to move. He dove into the water after the first man even as he heard the crack of a gunshot.

  “WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME?” Bill asked as soon as he and Abby walked out of the hospital.

  “We weren’t on call. I don’t have the authority to approve overtime. And this wasn’t a homicide.”

  “I could’ve helped, overtime or no. We’re partners now.”

  He stopped at her car while Abby bit off a caustic remark. This was why she didn’t want a partner. People didn’t think the way she thought, and they were always ready to
take offense where none was meant. She didn’t want to fight with Bill. She was too busy fighting with herself, fighting feelings raging within her over a guy she kept insisting she didn’t like.

  Luke Murphy had taken charge of the situation in the hospital. He knew the right things to say, organized all the people who came to support Glynnis Hoover, and handled the emotional situation with wisdom and compassion. The people there listened to him and respected him. Abby saw a lot in the man that made her want to know more than old facts surrounding a twenty-seven-year-old homicide. But now there was Glynnis.

  “You okay?”

  Abby looked up and saw concern where irritation had been. She struggled to get her focus off Murphy and back where it should be—finding Nadine’s attacker.

  “Yeah, I’m just tired. I need some more coffee and one more look at the hotel room.”

  “Good. I want to see the place as well.”

  “Once we get some coffee in us and I file my paper, Crunchers should be open. We need to visit Crunchers.”

  “Glad to hear you say we. You think this has something to do with her work there?”

  “Something made her run.” She started the car and pulled away from the hospital. “I get the impression it wasn’t home life. By the way, did you ever get in touch with Gunther about his Crunchers info?”

  “Left a message. Haven’t heard back.” Bill tapped a rhythm on his doorframe. “As far as Nadine and Glynnis go, they’re close. I’ve never seen any teen rebellion there.”

  She pulled into a convenient drive-through and ordered coffee. The sky was brightening with morning sun, and Abby was amazed she wasn’t exhausted. Aggravated and a little off-balance, but not exhausted.

  She handed Bill his coffee and took a big gulp of her own.

  Bill sipped his coffee. “How’d Nadine get your card anyway?”

  “I guess I did your friend a favor. He helped me out on the Murray homicide.” She shrugged. “I stopped at Destination X on my way home and told the day manager to give it to her if he saw her. That reminds me—we need to go there as well, find out when she picked the card up.”