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Leverage

Page 9

by C. M. Sutter


  “Your plates are on that Mercedes. It’s been connected to some very serious crimes.”

  “Wow, Deb hasn’t said a word about the plates being gone. She’s an eighteen-year-old kid and probably didn’t even notice.”

  “We need to know where she lives.”

  Dan pulled the steaming water out of the microwave and dropped a teaspoon of instant coffee into the cup. He gave it a stir and took a seat across from me.

  “Sure, here’s her address. She lives in an apartment with four other kids. Maybe I should get my car back, and what do I do about plates now?” Dan rattled off Deb’s address, and we thanked him.

  After jotting his sister’s address in my notepad, I handed him a card. “Go to the DMV and tell them your plates were stolen. They’ll issue replacements for you. We’ll be in touch.”

  Cam and I left and headed to the address for Debbie Hadley.

  Chapter 21

  J.T. sputtered and gasped as water hit him in the face. That ice-cold wake-up call did the trick. He coughed and opened his eyes. Sitting twenty feet away in the dimmed room was a man wearing a fedora tipped low on his forehead and a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses were perched on the bridge of his nose.

  “Done napping, Agent Harper?”

  J.T. spat a mouthful of blood from his earlier beating out onto the floor. “Where is my sister?”

  “Please stop talking about your sister. Your constant pleading has become tiresome. Julie is alive. That’s all you need to know at the moment.”

  J.T. cursed the man in the shadows.

  “Is there something you’d like to say, Mr. Hotshot Federal Agent?”

  An angry smirk sounded from J.T. “So, you’re the all-important Mr. Vetcher, Carden Vetcher, I believe I heard them say. You’re the guy those thugs in the monkey suits work for? What makes you so special? You’re obviously too scared to show yourself.”

  “Not scared, Agent Harper, just smart. Timing is everything. You’re an educated man, I assume, and understand the concept of payback, correct?”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning we have a history whether you realize it or not. You see, I’m much smarter than you, and I’ve bided my time, but now I need your help.”

  “And why would I help you? You’re a low-life criminal who has kidnapped one civilian and two federal agents. Did I mention that one agent is dead because of you?”

  “My hands are clean, and you’ll help me even if you don’t want to.”

  “Why would I?”

  “Leverage. Did you forget that I’m holding your sister hostage and won’t think twice about torturing her to death right in front of you?”

  J.T. pulled at his restraints. “You sick bastard.”

  “No need for name-calling. I’ll be in touch, but right now I have your FBI files to look through. I want to know who fired the shot that killed my brother. Was it you or Agent Belmont?”

  “How would I know when you haven’t told me the case you’re talking about? Either way, neither of us has ever shot anybody with Vetcher as their last name.”

  Well, I guess Agent Belmont already paid his dues with his life, so it’s up to you. It’s time to pay your penance. Either help me or watch your sister die. My plan is set to take place in two days. Anthony, kill the lights.”

  The room went black. J.T. heard footsteps walk away, then an outer door creaked open and slammed closed. He sat alone once more with nothing but his thoughts.

  Chapter 22

  Cam parked in front of the older two-story house that had been converted into a duplex. The clapboard siding was in dire need of paint, and the neighborhood was sketchy at best. Now I understood why Dan let his sister borrow his car. Even sitting at the nearby bus stop to catch a ride to work could be a dangerous endeavor, especially for a young female.

  We rang the bell for the lower unit, and a pimply faced man who appeared barely old enough to shave answered the door. Our badges were already out and exposed when he opened it.

  “Whoa, dude, check this out,” he said. A wry grin spread across his face and exposed the tartar on his teeth.

  A second male and one female peeked around the corner. The air was thick with the scent of marijuana.

  “We need to speak to Debbie Hadley right now.” I wasn’t in the mood to deal with that young punk.

  He cocked his head toward the arched doorway that led into the living room. “Yo, Debbie, you have company.” He laughed and walked away. He scratched the back of his leg as he retreated to another room.

  The blond-haired girl who had peeked around the corner stepped out and into the kitchen. “What did I do wrong?”

  “Are you guilty of something other than possession of an illegal substance?”

  She looked mortified.

  Cam spoke up. “We aren’t here to bust your chops. We just need to ask you a few questions.”

  “Oh, okay.” Relief swept across her face. “Want to sit down?”

  “Sure.” I pulled out a chair, and Cam did the same. “Let’s cut to the chase. We have a very busy day ahead of us. How long have you been using Dan’s Nissan, and have you loaned it to anyone else?”

  “Um, um.”

  I groaned. “Real words, please.”

  “Oh, um, I’ve had it since April. I’ve let Tommy use it once in a while.”

  “Were you aware of the missing license plates?”

  “No. When did that happen?”

  I stared at her. “Well, there isn’t a way we’d know that. Do you or your friends know anyone with a gold Mercedes sedan?”

  “Hang on.” Debbie rose from the table and disappeared around the doorway.

  I glanced at Cam. “Seriously?”

  A few seconds later the other roommates entered the kitchen.

  Deb nudged Tommy. “Well, say something.”

  “I don’t know anyone with a Mercedes.”

  “How about the rest of you?” Cam asked.

  Each person crossed their arms over their chest, shrugged, and shook their head. I tossed a few of my contact cards on the table before we left.

  “Get your acts together, will you, and lay off the weed.” I looked at Debbie and shook my head. “Your brother said he’s taking his car back.”

  Cam and I walked out with nothing more to go on than when we left the office an hour earlier.

  We reentered the FBI’s downtown headquarters at nine thirty and followed the third floor hallway to the conference room. Cam and I had been up for over twenty-four hours. I wasn’t sure about the rest of the team. Spelling sat at the head of the table, his face propped between his open palms.

  He turned toward us when we walked in. “Anything?”

  “Dead end, boss. The owner of the vehicle loaned the car to his younger sister. She’s about as ditzy as they come. She had no idea the plates were missing, and nobody knows anyone who owns a gold Mercedes.”

  Val entered the room. “The tip line got a hit on the Mercedes.”

  Hopkins perked up. “Yeah, let’s hear it.”

  “A man called in from Sheboygan County saying he had a 2012 champagne-colored Mercedes that was stolen eight months ago. It was never recovered. He did mention that the windows weren’t tinted, though.”

  “Okay, get on the horn to the local places that do vehicle window tinting. Have them pull up any light gold Mercedes that had limousine tint put on less than a year ago. Get every available agent on those calls. Cover Sheboygan, Washburn, Ozaukee, and Milwaukee Counties.”

  “Right away, sir.” Val turned and disappeared out the door.

  “Where are we with information on those eleven most violent cases? Anything hit with anniversary dates?” I asked.

  “Unfortunately not,” Maria said. “I do have an idea, though. How about we dig a little deeper into each specific case? Were J.T. and Curt called to testify in the cases where somebody went to prison? Those are usually conducted in open court. Anyone with a grudge could have sat in on those hearings.”

&nbs
p; “True, but if there aren’t any anniversary dates of someone being sentenced this week, then what’s the connection?” I poured myself a cup of coffee and took a seat. “I’ll go over the three cases where somebody was killed during gunfire and see if anything pops.”

  Spelling jerked his head at Cam. “Give her a hand. I’m going to catch a thirty-minute nap. You two are after me. No back talk, either. I need everyone fully alert and on their game.”

  “Yes, sir.” Cam slid one of the folders across the table to me. “Here, read everything over twice and don’t fall asleep.”

  I smirked. “Yeah, back at ya.”

  The conference room phone rang, and SSA Hopkins picked it up. “Yes, okay, and it’s addressed to me? Bring it here, please.” He hung up.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “We’ll know in a few minutes, but my gut is saying absolutely. Get Spelling back in here and call the forensics team. A padded envelope just arrived in the mail, and it’s addressed to me. There isn’t a return address on it, either.”

  I pushed back my chair and stood. “Oh, shit.”

  Chapter 23

  Lynette from the first floor reception counter brought the sealed manila envelope upstairs and placed it on the table. We were all in attendance, including Spelling, who’d barely had a second to close his eyes.

  I pulled out the box of gloves from the cabinet at my back. Spelling nodded.

  “Yeah, let’s all glove up. No sense in adding more fingerprints for the crime lab to check out. That envelope is probably filled with dozens of prints already.”

  Cam spoke up. “Yeah, but I bet none are from our perps.”

  Hopkins slipped on a pair of latex gloves as he picked up the envelope. “What’s the ETA on Forensics?”

  “They’ll be here in five minutes, sir,” I said.

  The Milwaukee County Crime Lab was the local forensics agency that serviced the downtown police headquarters and our FBI division. Luckily, their main facility was located only a few blocks from our building. Minutes later, the ding of the elevator doors opening alerted us to their arrival.

  I tipped my head toward the hallway. “Sounds like the boys are here. Mind if I snap off a few quick pics, boss?”

  “Go ahead. It can’t hurt,” Spelling said.

  I pulled out my phone from my pocket and leaned over the envelope on the table. I closed in on the front side and took three pictures of the address, postmark, and stamp. Then I flipped the envelope over and looked at the back. Nothing stood out on that side, but I snapped a few pics, anyway.

  Leah Jasper and Terry Franklin entered the conference room. I took my seat and watched with the rest of our group.

  “What have we got, sir?” Leah asked.

  “A suspicious padded envelope addressed to me. It was sent USPS, so there has to be dozens of prints on it,” Hopkins said.

  “Sure thing. Let’s get a few shots of it, then we’ll open it up and see what we’ve got.” Leah used her digital camera to zoom in on the writing and postmark.

  With his hands gloved, Terry carefully lifted the envelope, checked the seal for anything that appeared unusual, and straightened the metal clasps. Leah handed him a long, flat blade from their kit, and he slipped it under the crease at the seal. It cut through the envelope like butter. We sat forward and alert, our eyes focused on whatever came out of the package. Terry looked in before dumping the envelope on the table.

  “We’re going to need a laptop. Looks like we have a thumb drive here.”

  I groaned with understanding—nothing good ever came from looking at a video—and I expected the worst.

  Bill Lewis rose. “I’ll get mine.” He left the room, and Terry slid the thumb drive out of the padded pouch.

  I snapped several pictures of the ordinary looking black thumb drive as we waited. Leah pulled an evidence bag out of her kit, dropped the envelope inside, and closed it. She wrote the time and date on the red seal.

  “Nothing unusual about the thumb drive?” Spelling asked.

  She shrugged. “We aren’t going to get that lucky right out of the gate, sir. It’s as common as it gets, likely from any big-box store nationwide.”

  Bill Lewis was back within minutes with his laptop cradled in his arms. He placed it in front of Leah and sat down. “It’s good to go.”

  Leah nodded a thank-you and checked all of our faces. “You guys ready to see whatever is on this drive?”

  Hopkins heaved a deep sigh. “As ready as we’ll ever be.”

  Leah pushed the drive into the port on the side of the computer and clicked the control panel icon. She rolled her neck, gave each of us another glance, and clicked the cursor over the new file. With the laptop turned to the group, we simultaneously held our breath.

  A close-up of Julie appeared on the screen. Tears stained her cheeks, and fear clouded her features. Dried blood matted her hair and coated her forehead.

  “Those sons of bitches,” Cam said as he pressed his temples.

  I had met Julie only once, but the rest of the team knew her slightly better. No matter what, she was an innocent victim. Other than using her as leverage, the kidnappers had no reason to include her in their quest for revenge against the FBI, J.T., or Curt.

  Her mouth was covered with a piece of cloth tied behind her head. She was unable to talk. A hand moved into the screen and placed that day’s newspaper on her lap to indicate the tape was current and filmed that very morning.

  Spelling sucked in a long breath. “Okay, that’s this morning’s paper. It comes out at six thirty. At least we know she was alive and breathing then.”

  “Right, but there’s no sign of J.T.,” Maria said.

  Hopkins spoke up. “The camera is so close to her we can’t see anything in the background.”

  “I’m sure that’s deliberate,” I said. “They aren’t going to give up their location that easily.”

  We watched as the newspaper was taken away and replaced with notecards. All we saw was a large male hand moving in and out of the video. In short, the notecards told us that Julie’s condition would only get worse if we interfered. They had a job to do, Agent Harper was going to assist, and if things didn’t go smoothly, J.T. would witness his sister slowly being tortured to death. Rants written on the cards spoke of an eye for an eye, revenge, family being everything, and a long-overdue payback.

  An unexpected familiar voice yelled out in the background, and the tape was quickly cut short.

  “That was J.T., I know it was! At least they’re being held at the same place.”

  Spelling agreed. “Play that last part again, Leah.”

  Leah backed up the scrubber bar then clicked the forward arrow. We listened, our ears perked for any word or background sounds that could give us something to work with.

  “It sounds like he’s yelling Carden.”

  Hopkins shook his head. “I think he said something about the cards. He probably wants us to focus on the notecards they’re placing on Julie’s lap. Maybe there’s hidden clues within those rants.”

  “Yeah, probably,” Cam said. “Did anyone catch a sound of background noise? Trains, airplanes, heavy machinery, traffic?”

  I listened carefully. “No, but don’t you think his voice echoed a bit? Let’s take another listen.”

  Hopkins nodded at Leah, and she backed up the tape again.

  Val agreed that J.T.’s voice did seem to echo.

  “Okay, what is that telling us?” Spelling said. “Throw out your opinions, people. Everything is fair game.”

  I dug deep into my training and rubbed my forehead as I thought. “The building they’re in is empty, large, or both. There’s no carpet to muffle the sounds or rooms to deaden the echoes.”

  “A large warehouse or almost any empty building would fit that description,” Hopkins said, “and unfortunately there are plenty of them in a fifty-mile radius. Actually, we have no idea if they’re in the area at all.”

  Spelling took his turn. “We have
no other options. Get Joe to pull up every vacated building over three thousand square feet in a twenty-mile radius. Have him search foreclosed properties, bank-owned buildings, and abandoned industrial sites. Someplace remote would make the most sense. I doubt if they’d be coming in and out where there’s a lot of people. No one who’s up to no good wants an audience. Keep in mind, Curt was shot several times. That sound is going to be loud, especially in an empty building. Tell Joe to look for places off the beaten path first.”

  Maria walked out and headed to the tech department.

  I glanced at the pad of paper in front of me. I had written down every message on the notecards. “I’m going to try to decipher these messages for a bit.”

  “Nope, not until you take an hour-long nap. Don’t argue with me, either. Get going now. Cam will do the same once you’re back out here. I’ll send Val in to get you at lunchtime. Leave that cell phone behind too.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but the look on Spelling’s face was unwavering. I wouldn’t win. It was useless to argue with him, and truth be told, I was exhausted. A fresh set of eyes and a clear mind would benefit the investigation in the long run. With my cell phone left behind, I headed to our private lounge and snuggled up on one of the three couches and closed my eyes.

  Chapter 24

  I woke and felt somebody shaking my shoulder. I cracked open my eyes and saw a blurry shape of a person sitting on the edge of the couch. I squinted several times.

  “Jade, it’s time to wake up. We’re going to order lunch and eat in the conference room, then we’ll get back to work.”

  I remained in place and stared up at her. My mind hadn’t yet comprehended what that person was saying.

  She chuckled. “Man, you’re still out of it.”

  “What?” I sat up and rubbed my eyes then took in my surroundings.

  “Yeah, this is the FBI lounge. Don’t you remember coming in here to take a nap?”

  “I do now. Sorry, Val. I’m out to lunch, literally.”

 

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