Mary Ellen bit down on her bottom lip and nodded before turning to her duties with the senior citizens.
As Carly pulled her phone out of her pool bag to call Nick, a pang of dread struck her gut. It wasn’t like Londy to disappear. What could have happened to him?
•••
When the lesson ended, Carly showered and changed quickly. She combed her hair but left it to air-dry.
Mary Ellen was already waiting by her car when Carly jogged out to the lot. “I just tried again. No luck,” she said.
“Hang in there, Mary Ellen. We’ll find him.”
They were climbing into Carly’s car when her phone buzzed. “It’s Nick,” Carly said as she answered the phone.
“My guys just called me,” he said. “Something weird is going on. Victor Macias is missing also. He was supposed to be home so his mother could take him to see his brother. The doctor was going to let the little kids in for the first time, and he’s nowhere to be found. He’s only ten, so this is a critical missing.”
Carly considered this. A critical missing meant a command post and a lot of resources thrown into the search. “Do you think Victor is with Londy?”
“Victor’s five-year-old brother thinks he saw Londy talking to Victor earlier, but he’s only five and doesn’t communicate very clearly. Anyway, juvenile is on it, and we’re leaving the yard now to pitch in.”
“I’m with Mary Ellen. We’re going to head to Half Baked and see if Londy talked to anyone there.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in a few. We didn’t finish here, so maybe when we come back, you can ride along.”
“Did you find anything?”
“Just puzzles. It’s obvious someone other than the construction crew has been in here. We’ve decided to seal up the scene for one more day in case the shooting team wants to do another walk-through. I’ll tell you more when I see you.”
Carly filled in Mary Ellen while she drove.
“That’s bad,” Mary Ellen said. “Victor couldn’t wait to see his brother. He wouldn’t have missed that for the world.”
Carly said nothing, just continued to the coffee shop. When they got there, the place was packed; in fact, the whole Apex shopping complex was busy. She could see that the coffee shop was short-staffed. Ned was emptying a trash can, and she walked over to help him. Besides garbage from the outside can he was emptying, he also had a bag of trash from inside the shop.
“Thanks, Carly,” he said as she took the bag from him. “Nice surprise to see you here.” He frowned when he saw Mary Ellen. “Hey, where’s Londy? His shift started ten minutes ago. He’s always early. This is the first time in six months he’s a no-show.”
Mary Ellen paled.
Carly answered for her. “Londy’s missing. That’s why we’re here.”
“Missing?”
“Yeah, he didn’t show up at the pool either. A boy is missing as well—Victor Macias. He’s only ten. We were hoping maybe Londy called you or something.”
Ned shook his head. “No, it’s been crazy here today. Jinx is sick, so we were counting on him coming in. I know Victor. Londy’s brought him in for cinnamon rolls from time to time. I haven’t seen him either.”
“Do you want me to work for Londy, Mr. Barton? I don’t want him to get in trouble for not being here.”
Ned put his hand on Mary Ellen’s shoulder. “Hey, I can tell that you’re upset. We’ll manage.” He picked up his bag of trash, and Carly grabbed the one she had taken and followed him to the Dumpster in the alley, leaving Mary Ellen at the front of the shop.
“Is this serious, Carly? I mean Mary Ellen looks terrified.”
“You said yourself it’s not like Londy to be a no-show.”
“No, it’s not.” He set the trash down to open the gate to where the Dumpsters were.
A horn honking followed by the sound of tires screeching to a halt made Carly look up. She stepped around the Dumpster for a view of the street.
There was a kid running toward them.
Carly motioned for Ned to join her. “Ned?”
He stepped up to follow her gaze. “What the . . . ?”
Carly dropped the trash bag as Victor crossed Broadway and was nearly struck by a car.
“Ned! Ned!” he yelled, breathless.
He was almost upon them. Carly thought he looked dirty and a little bloody.
“Ned, help, help!”
Carly took one of the boy’s arms and Ned the other.
“Whoa, what happened?”
“Please.” He bent at the waist and sucked in air. Up close, she could see his face was streaked with tears. “He took Londy and now he’s after me.” His small voice quaked.
Carly looked at Ned. “Go get Mary Ellen please.”
As Ned moved away, Carly knelt down. Victor was at the stage of sobbing where the whole body shakes. He was filthy, and there were cuts and scrapes all over his arms.
“Who?” Carly asked. “Who took Londy and who are you afraid of?”
“Don’t know his name.”
Mary Ellen came running over. “Victor! What happened?”
The boy stood up straight and swallowed. “He got Londy.”
“Who?” Carly and Mary Ellen asked simultaneously.
“The white dude. The one who shot Hector.”
34
“HE’S DEAD, VICTOR. The man who shot your brother is dead,” Carly said, still down on one knee.
Victor shook his head. Now that he’d gotten his breath back, the words came out in a rush. “The other white dude—the one with the beard. I seen him. Londy was taking me to swim, and the van came by. Londy told me to run ’cause he thought it was a drive-by. I ran, but I saw the van go after Londy. The man jumped out and snatched him. Londy couldn’t fight him off, and he put him in the van. Then he came after me, but I hid until I could come here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a smashed cell phone. “It’s Londy’s phone. They smashed it when he tried to call for help.”
Carly took the phone and stood. “Mary Ellen, take Victor into the shop.”
“But we have to find Londy!”
She held the girl’s frantic gaze. “We will. I have to make some calls, get Nick over here and some help from juvenile. Get Victor cleaned up and calmed down so he can tell us everything he remembers.”
•••
By the time Nick arrived, they’d moved Victor into the coffee shop office. Ned gave him some water, and Mary Ellen cleaned his face. Erika made him something to eat. After a layer of grime was cleaned off, Carly saw that while his arms were cut, scratched, and bloody, everything was superficial.
“Where were you when this happened?” Nick asked the boy.
“Up by where people catch the train. When they came for me, I jumped the fence and hid in the tow yard. I came here as soon as I could but then got scared that they were still looking for me.”
Victor’s hiding place must be near the second commuter stop for the metro rail. It backed up to the police tow yard and was near where he lived.
“Describe the van, Victor. What did the van look like?”
“It was white and it didn’t have no windows. I’m sorry, Mary Ellen. I couldn’t help him.”
“Oh, Victor, he’ll be okay. I know it. We just have to pray.” Mary Ellen bent down to hug Victor.
Carly nodded to Nick. Together they left the office and walked out the back door of the shop.
Nick had his radio with him. He’d already contacted the juvenile team that was handling the critical missing pertaining to Victor. Nick relayed everything Victor had told them about the white van and Londy.
“He’ll be okay,” Nick said, replacing his radio on his belt.
Carly closed her eyes and shook her head as dread clamped on. “I’m sorry. I don’t believe that. Whoever is after him has already killed two.” Opening her eyes, she looked into Nick’s blue ones and saw a steadiness there.
“If they’d wanted him dead, they could have shot him in the s
treet. No, something else is going on here.”
“But what?”
One of the juvenile detectives came on the air with a license plate. Someone had written letters and numbers down, but they said it was a funny plate and couldn’t tell which state it was from.
Carly grabbed Nick’s sleeve. “Tell them to run it as Arizona. Everything seems to be coming here from Arizona these days.”
He smiled and made the suggestion to dispatch.
“Good call, Gang Sam 1, R/O info returning now. Chevy van, no want or warrant, registered to a Virginia Masterson, Tucson, Arizona.”
Nick stared at Carly and she didn’t know what to say. The juvenile detective said that he would call auto stats and ask that a BOLO be entered into the system for the van.
All Carly could think was that maybe Alex was right—Masters was a Dragon Lady. But was she also a killer?
35
“WELL, WE HAVE A CALL into the Messenger, but no one seems to know where Masters is right now.” Nick sat down across from Carly. “Victor didn’t see a woman.”
“But someone had to be driving.” Carly drummed on the table with a combination of impatience and anxiety.
She and Nick were seated in the coffee shop, waiting for Victor’s mother to pick him up. A juvenile detective was with Victor and had even coaxed a smile out of him. The boy had calmed down and eaten the sandwich Erika had made for him.
Mary Ellen was alternating between prayerfully assured and inconsolable. Carly had called Jonah to come get her. The search for Victor had switched to a search for Londy. With Victor’s information about what had happened, Londy’s status of “missing” turned into “kidnapped,” and homicide was assisting patrol and gang officers with the search. As best they could determine from Victor’s narrative, the white van had snatched Londy about two hours ago. Carly did not want to think about what could have happened to the teenager in two hours.
“I’m going to call Alex. He might know how to get ahold of Masters or where she is,” Carly told Nick, who had been busily texting back and forth with the officers searching for Londy. Victor said he picked up Londy’s phone in the street after he was sure the van was gone. Nick had his guys checking the street in the area on the off chance there was more evidence on the ground.
Carly stood and walked outside to use her phone. Before she punched the number for Alex, a small black sports car screeched to a stop at the curb. Carly’s gaze was drawn that direction by the noise, and she turned in time to see an angry Ginny Masters climb out of the driver’s seat.
Oh, Lord, help me, she prayed as the woman focused on her like a laser beam. The air cracked with each stomp of Masters’s high-heeled boots on the pavement as she strode toward Carly. Sliding her phone in her pocket, Carly prepared to face the woman.
“You have nerve showing up here after what you did to Dean.” Masters squared off in front of Carly. “It’s my mission in life to see you drummed out of police work and in prison, where you belong!”
“I didn’t kill Dean.”
Masters’s index finger shot up as if spring-loaded. “Don’t you lie to me! All cops are power hungry. It’s a job requirement. You fired your gun and Dean is dead.”
“Someone else was in the restaurant with us, and that person shot Dean. Maybe they used my gun, but I didn’t shoot him.”
Masters’s hands flew to her waist and she stood up tall, assuming a posture officers called “chicken-chested.” It was meant to intimidate, to make the person you’re facing step back.
Carly didn’t budge, just held the angry woman’s gaze with as calm an expression as she could muster. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nick come out of the coffee shop, but she didn’t look away from Masters. He was in his gang uniform: black tactical pants, nylon gun belt, and police Windbreaker. Masters might see him as an authority figure and chill, but Carly doubted it.
“Now it’s a cover-up! Who did you pay off to hide your murder?”
“Ms. Masters—” Nick began as he stepped up behind her.
She whirled around. “Don’t you try to do anything to me!” She held up a small flip camera. “This records video. You won’t be able to hide.” Her voice was shrill.
Nick held up both hands and spoke calmly. “I’m not going to do anything. We’ve been looking for you. We have some questions for you.”
Carly kept silent, knowing Nick should handle this. He moved to stand next to her so Masters would face both of them. He probably didn’t want her to feel surrounded, Carly thought.
“Are you going to try to pin something on me?”
Nick took a deep breath and asked his first question in the least accusatory tone he could, as far as Carly was concerned. “Do you own a white van?”
The question seemed to throw Masters for a loop. “A white van?” Something erased the indignation in her face for a split second, something that told Carly she knew exactly what Nick was talking about. Then it was gone, again replaced by outraged indignation. “No, my car is there at the curb.” She gave an angry wave in that direction. “Why?”
“Because a white van was involved in the kidnapping of a young man earlier today. We have the license plate of a white van, written down by a witness, and the vehicle is registered to you in Tucson, Arizona.”
“I . . . uh . . .” Masters deflated as if pricked with a pin, and her eyebrows scrunched like an accordion. “I helped Dean buy a van. He couldn’t get credit when he was released. The van was his. If someone was driving that van, then it must have been stolen.”
“We could be wrong—your van might not be the one we’re looking for—but we’d like to check. Do you know where his van is? Or if anyone else had access to it? Maybe Dean gave it to a friend?”
She jerked her head away and would not look at Nick. “There you go! He’s on parole, so you assume he’d have friends who would kidnap someone.”
“I’m just touching all the bases. It’s possible it’s not Dean’s van we’re looking for. Do you know where the van was parked? We can go check and see if it’s there. If not, then we’ll know it’s stolen.”
“Maybe he gave it to his brother.”
“We’re certain Ned doesn’t have it.”
“Hmph. You assume Dean was the bad guy and you don’t take a second look at his brother. How do you know that man isn’t the criminal you think Dean is?”
That question took Carly by surprise, and she could see Masters read her expression. The woman threw her hands up theatrically. “No, of course, you wouldn’t consider him!” The index finger shot up again. “I think you better look hard at that man! Accusing Dean of planting a bomb. He cheated Dean out of his inheritance. Any man who is that money-hungry is capable of anything.”
Ned came out of the coffee shop. Masters turned her scathing gaze his way and crossed her arms. “You need to look long and hard at that man and let my poor Dean rest in peace.” She stomped back toward her car, with Nick following.
“What was that all about?” Ned asked.
“Long story.” Carly watched as Nick tried to talk to the woman, to get more information about the van and who might have it or where it should be. “I don’t know why she came here. Hey, do you remember seeing Dean driving a white van?”
Ned scratched his chin. “No, the only times he came here, he was with her in that little sports car.”
They both started when Masters burned rubber away from the curb.
Nick walked toward them, shaking his head. “That lady has a chip on her shoulder.” He nodded toward Ned. “She’s really created this image of your brother. He was Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, and Martin Luther King all rolled into one.”
Ned sighed and started to say something when Erika poked her head out the front door and said he was needed inside.
“Did she tell you anything about the van?” Carly asked Nick.
“No. All she would say is that they always traveled in her car. She wouldn’t even tell me where Dean stayed when he wasn’t with her. I did
try to convince her that someone else killed Dean and tried to make it look as though you did it.”
“Is that what made her angry enough to burn rubber?”
He shook his head. “I told her Dean must have had a partner who doubled-crossed him and shot him to frame you. That wound her up.”
A plain car pulled up to the curb, and Fernando stepped out.
“We canvassed a couple of blocks where Victor says Londy was snatched.” He shrugged. “A few people remember seeing the van but not the kidnapping.” Frowning, he faced Carly. “That kid made someone mad enough to go to all this trouble?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know.”
He looked at Nick. “Harris is getting ready to serve a warrant on Potter’s boat. You want to help or stay on the search for the kid?”
Nick folded his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well, if Potter’s involved in all of this, there might be answers about who took Londy and why if we can talk to him.” He turned to Carly. “I think we’ll assist Harris. Let me know if you hear anything else?”
“I will. You too.”
He gave her a casual salute and left with Fernando.
•••
Carly paced outside, worried about Londy. It was going on two and a half hours. So much could have happened in that period of time.
Her phone rang. It was Andi.
“What’s up?”
“Have you talked to Alex?”
“No, we’ve kinda got a situation going here.” She filled Andi in on what had happened to Londy.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, but it makes me even more disturbed that I can’t reach Alex. I’m really worried. His phone goes right to voice mail, which is odd. He never turns his phone off.” Andi’s voice was uncharacteristically tight with stress.
Here we go again, Carly thought, anxiety ramping up anew. “I haven’t talked to him. I was going to call and ask him a question, but that question was answered. When did you last speak to him?”
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