Deadly Distractions, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 6

by William Manchee

CHAPTER 32

  THE KIDNAPPING

  A few weeks later I decided to call Jill and see if she had found anything out about Don Harris’ whereabouts on July 11. I also wondered if she had found out anything about the attempt on our lives a few days earlier. I feared she had been caught snooping around and that had triggered Harris' attempt on our lives. She answered the telephone but her voice was very restrained.

  “Jill. This is Paula Waters. How are you?”

  She didn’t answer but I could hear her breathing.

  “I guess you heard about the sniper attack on Stan and me.”

  “I can’t talk to you now,” she said and the line went dead.

  I dropped the phone from my ear and said, “Damn it.”

  My hunch must have been right. She sounded scared. I decided to go pay her a visit at her apartment up in McKinney, but first I called Bart to let him know she could be a critical witness and needed protection. He was sympathetic but said I’d have to give him a lot more to take that request to Trenton Lee. Disappointed with Bart’s response, I called Joe Conrad, one of the detectives we had talked to us up at the Collin County Sheriff’s office, and told him about Jill. He said he’d pay her a visit soon and if she needed protection he would make sure she got it.

  In the meantime I took my rental car up to McKinney to Jill’s place to try to talk to her. As I was pulling up to her apartment complex, I saw her leaving with Don Harris. She looked upset and I noticed she had a black eye. He had her by one arm and appeared to be in a hurry. I was glad I was in a rent car because Don didn’t seem to notice me. Just as they took off in Don’s pickup, I eased into the traffic a few cars behind them. I wished I had one of those new mobile phones that were becoming popular so I could have called for help. I obviously didn’t have time to stop at a pay phone.

  They went west on Highway 380 to Highway 75 and turned south. If they took the Highway 121 exit, I knew where they were going—DFW Airport. It looked like Jill was going on a paid vacation so she couldn’t be a witness against Don Harris. I was a bit relieved that Harris had elected to send Jill away rather than kill her. He probably figured another murder might make things worse. His best bet was for the sheriff’s office to come up empty-handed when they started snooping into his affairs. When we got to the airport, they went to Terminal A and parked. I followed them from a safe distance as Harris escorted Jill into the terminal and to her gate, where they waited. The message board said it was flight 2343 to Baltimore.

  While they were waiting, I went to the phone and called Conrad but neither he nor his partner were available. When I got off the telephone, I went back to the gate. They were just calling for pre-boarding when I got there. Jill saw me approach and I motioned for her to run. Without hesitation she pulled away from Harris and darted off through the crowd. When Harris turned to chase her, I slammed into him as hard as I could. We both went sprawling onto the floor. He scrambled to get to his feet and chase Jill but I grabbed a foot and held on for dear life. Harris fell on his face again and this time he kicked me hard in the head, causing a lady nearby to scream. I saw two security guards coming at us from the same direction that Jill had fled. The blow to my head caused me to lose my grip on Harris’ leg and he ran off, but in the opposite direction. Jill was safe for the moment.

  The two security guards helped me up and wanted to know what was going on. I told them I was trying to stop a kidnapping and to call Detective Conrad or Bart to verify my story. I wanted to go looking for Jill but they insisted they would take care of finding her. They never did, nor did they apprehend Don Harris. Two hours later, when airport security was about to let me go, Bart showed up. He held my chin up and looked at the gash above my eye.

  “Jesus, this may need stitches,” he said as he ran his finger over the wound.

  I moaned a little to make him feel bad. He deserved it. “It hurts like hell.”

  Bart smiled sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I should have taken your request to Trenton but I was sure he’d turn it down.”

  “It’s all right. Everything happened so fast you couldn’t have responded in time anyway. I'm sure Detective Conrad will provide protection for Jill. Now all I have to do is find her.”

  “Any idea where she might have gone?”

  “No. She obviously isn’t going back to her apartment or to work. Maybe she has family or friends close by who she can stay with,” I said.

  “I’ll have someone check all the hotels and motels to see if she has checked in anywhere,” Bart said.

  “Thanks. I really need to find her. She’s the key to our case. I know it.”

  “I’ll call Trenton and tell him about tonight. Maybe he’ll get Logan and Cox involved since there was an attempted kidnapping. So far I haven’t been able to convince anybody that Don Harris should be checked out, but with the attempt on your life and now the attempted kidnapping, they’ll have to look into it.”

  “Good. I don’t like playing detective. I can’t afford the medical bills.”

  Bart smiled and took my hand. “I don’t like you playing detective either. I’m worried about you getting seriously hurt. Can’t you guys afford to hire a private detective?”

  “Yeah, but we haven’t had the heart to since Monty died. Besides, I’m getting quite good at it, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, you are, but—“

  I pressed two fingers against Bart’s mouth. “Hold that thought. Come see me later at my apartment, okay? I could use a little company.”

  He smiled. “Sure. Where are you going now?”

  “Back to the office. Jill may be trying to contact me. If not, I’ll see if I can find some friends or relatives who might know where she is.”

  “Be careful,” Bart said as we parted.

  There was no word from Jill at the office. I briefed Stan on what had happened and he made me promise I’d call him for backup before I got into any more skirmishes. He left saying he was going to take a photo of Don Harris to Officer Curtis to see if he could put Harris at or near the Double T on the night of Agent Tuttle’s murder. I wished him luck and then started working on finding Jill’s friends or relatives.

  Jill’s employer told me she had a sister who lived in Irving. They couldn’t give out the phone number, but they did tell me her name, Marty Webster. There were numerous Websters in Irving so I started calling all of them hoping to find the right one. Most were not at home and none of the ones who did answer knew anyone named Jill. Frustrated, I grabbed my purse and headed back to McKinney. Perhaps a neighbor might know something.

  The door to Jill’s apartment was unlocked. Apparently in their haste to leave they had neglected to lock it. I looked around to be sure nobody was watching me and then slipped inside. I didn’t dare turn on a light, so I used a small pen light that I kept in my purse in case of an emergency. The house had been ransacked. Apparently Jill had something that Harris was worried about. I wondered what it was and whether or not Harris had found it.

  As I gazed around the apartment I wondered where I would go if I were running from someone like Harris. It would have to be to someone strong who could protect me or someone so remote that Harris would never figure out who it was. As I was searching, my heart jumped when I spotted an address book. I picked it up and started leafing through it. The name and telephone number of Jill’s sister, Marty Webster, was listed so I picked up the phone and dialed her number. After a few rings she answered. I told her who I was and that I was looking for Jill. She said she hadn’t talked to Jill for several days but she hesitated like she was being coached as to what to say.

  I didn’t blame Jill for not wanting to talk to me, but I had to find out what she knew. I felt like if I confronted her face to face she’d talk to me. As I continued to leaf through the address book, I came across Don Harris’ listing. There were several numbers: home, work, and mobile. There was also a number written in pencil underneath the others. Wondering whose number it was I picked up the telephone and dialed it. A lady ans
wered.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Oh, hi. Did I dial the wrong number again? I was trying to get a hold of Don Harris.”

  “Don Harris? How did you get this number?”

  “I’m sorry. Who is this?”

  “Who are you?” she asked indignantly.

  “One of Jill’s friends. I was looking through her address book and came across this number. I take it this is not Don Harris’ number.”

  “I should say not. I’ve been divorced from him for years.”

  “Oh, you must be Regina?” I said.

  “Why yes, how did you know that?”

  “Listen. We've got to talk. Can I meet you somewhere?”

  She agreed to meet and talk to me after I explained who I was and what I was doing. She was very suspicious and ultra-cautious. I didn’t blame her considering she had been married to Don Harris. That must have been a nightmare. We met at a little café off the square in downtown McKinney. Regina was a short brunette in her mid-thirties. She dressed nicely and seemed pleasant enough, but was constantly fidgeting with her napkin, silverware, and left earring. She was making me nervous just watching her. I told her about Jill’s abduction and subsequent escape. She told me why her phone number was in Jill’s address book.

  “Jill called for advice on how to rid herself of Don,” Regina said. “She figured I had successfully divorced him so perhaps I could give her some pointers.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her to forget it. She’d have to wait until Don was through with her. I was only able to get a divorce from Don because he found a new love and she wanted to get married. He was finished with me so he let me go.”

  “But he didn’t contest the divorce. You got everything.”

  She chuckled. “Yes, everything that wasn’t hidden in an offshore bank account or put in someone else’s name.”

  “Oh, I see. So he gave you what he wanted you to have.”

  “Which was damn little,” Regina mused.

  “And you didn’t do any discovery to locate these assets because you wanted to stay alive?” I said.

  She smiled. “Exactly.”

  Regina told me everything she knew about the People’s Mission. She said Harris got the idea for the People’s Mission when he did some work for a south Dallas preacher. The preacher ran a lucrative office supply business out of his alleged church and paid no taxes. Harris loved the idea and shared it with some of his friends. Once they got IRS approval for their new church, they sold affiliations for $10,000 each—kind of a franchise fee. Everything was going great until Bobby Tuttle audited them and discovered the fraud. The audit took place after their divorce, so she didn’t know too much about Harris’ reaction to it.

  She also talked about Harris’ friends, hangouts, and habits, which I was sure would be valuable information later on. She assured me Harris was capable of violence and told me to be very careful, which, of course, I already knew. Regina promised to let me know if she heard from Jill. I told her to tell her I could provide protection if she’d just contact me. It was nearly five when I left the café and headed back to Dallas. It was after six when I got home. There was a message on my recorder from Bart not to eat dinner. He was bringing over Chinese.

  At 7:00 Bart knocked on the door. He was carrying our Chinese takeout and a bottle of wine. I let him in and took the bottle of wine. He carried it to the kitchen table, took off his coat, and started unpacking it while I opened the bottle of wine. I got two glasses, set them on the table, and sat down to eat. Bart took a bite and smiled.

  “I love Chinese,” he said.

  “Me too. Thanks for bringing it by. I’m so tired there's no way I could have cooked.”

  “So, did you get into any more brawls since I saw you last?”

  I gave him an exaggerated smile. “No, it was a pretty quiet afternoon actually. I did find a new witness. Don Harris’ ex-wife. She gave me an earful.”

  “Really. Well, speaking of Harris. I talked to Trenton and he doesn’t think there is any connection between the sniper attack and the Bobby Tuttle case.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous. Of course there’s a connection. It’s obvious.”

  “Well, Trenton doesn’t think so and he’s not going help you create reasonable doubt. He said you're on your own. He did say he’d talk to Detective Conrad and ask him to keep him apprised of the investigation.”

  “What a jerk. What do I have to do, serve the killer up on a silver platter?”

  “That’s about what it’s going to take,” Bart said. “They’re convinced they already have the killer and most everyone agrees.”

  “But they don’t. Dusty is innocent,” I protested.

  “You don’t know that,” Bart said. “You just want to believe it. You really have nothing to prove Harris killed Bobby Tuttle, do you?”

  I shrugged. “No, not yet. But I know Harris is involved in Bobby’s death somehow. He’s running scared and I promise you I will find out why. It’s just a matter of time.”

  Bart smiled. “I have no doubt you will. . . . Now can we cut the shop talk and get down to business?”

  I gave Bart a wry smile and replied, “What business did you have in mind, big boy?”