The Curator: SG Trilogy Book 2 (Abby Kane FBI Thriller 8)

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The Curator: SG Trilogy Book 2 (Abby Kane FBI Thriller 8) Page 10

by Ty Hutchinson


  This relaxed him a bit. They probably just forgot something. I’ll wait it out.

  “Mommy, I forgot my floaties! I need them.”

  Just when I thought I was home free. I wanted to ask if she really needed them, or suggest that the Shis might have some she could borrow, but I knew that wouldn’t work. Lucy wasn’t a strong swimmer, and she would naturally be more comfortable with her own things. It also reminded me that I needed to sign her up for swim lessons. I made a right as soon as I could and headed back to the house.

  We pulled into the driveway. I shut off the ignition and handed her the house keys. “Hurry, okay?”

  She hopped out and ran up the stairs of the front porch. Before I knew it, Ryan was also getting out of the car.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I want to get a book on Bruce Lee. I told Colin I would let him borrow it, but I keep forgetting to bring it with me to school.”

  Next thing I knew, Po Po had exited the car.

  “Bathroom,” she said.

  For crying out loud.

  As I sat there, I remembered telling Connie about a camp I had sent Ryan to a few years ago. I told her I still had the brochure somewhere in my office and would give it to her.

  Well, I might as well get it, seeing that everyone else has gotten out of the car.

  I headed inside. Up the stairs I went. When I hit the second floor, I called out for Ryan and Lucy to hurry. How long does it take to grab one item? I continued up one more flight to the third floor and hurried down the hall to my office.

  The door was closed. I never close it. Hmmm. Well, whatever. I reached for the knob and pushed it open.

  I shuffled through the stacks of paper on my desk. Where is it? I swore I saw it not too long ago. I had even thought to throw it out, but I hadn’t. I opened the top drawer and did a brief search through the pile of junk. Nope. Not here. I glanced over to the corkboard mounted on the wall and scanned it. Not there either. I rested my hands on my hips as I spun around, my eyes taking in the entire office before settling on the door. There was a small closet space behind it. Maybe in there?

  I wanted to dismiss the thought, but the investigator in me would only question my actions for the rest of the day; and Connie would remind me of the camp brochure and I would have to lie and tell her I couldn’t find it, when the truth was I hadn’t looked hard enough.

  Ugh. I pulled the door away from the wall, revealing another smaller door. This is so stupid. I know it’s not here. I never go in here. It’s just junk, mostly old Christmas wrapping paper.

  I reached for the tiny knob and pulled. The door remained stuck. See? It won’t even open. That’s how long it’s been since I last used this storage space.

  I tugged a little harder, and the wood against wood released a tiny squeak as the door moved a few centimeters. Sheesh. Of course, it’s not in here. I gripped the small brass knob with both hands and jerked back hard. The door flew open, revealing a dark space about five feet in height and about six feet in depth. It was narrow, probably no more than three feet across.

  Just inside was a stack of banker boxes that blocked half of my view to the back of the space. Leaning against them were the rolls of old wrapping paper, a small broom, and a dustpan. I didn’t see the brochure. I could step inside and look around the boxes just to be thorough, but why on earth would I put the brochure behind the boxes? Jesus, Abby, you already have the door open; just go in there and look around.

  I stepped inside, turning my body sideways so I could slip by the boxes and peer behind them. Nothing but a dark, empty space, and probably cobwebs. I exited the closet, shut the door, and gave my office another once-over.

  Hmmm… I walked over to the small plastic rubbish bin near my desk and dug inside of it. Near the bottom, under a bunch of crumpled papers, I found the brochure. I had tossed it after all.

  Albert Shi exited the entertainment room on the third floor and tucked his handgun into the waistband of his pants as he returned to Kane’s office.

  He peeked out the window and watched her and her family pile back into the car and drive off. Then he placed a call on his cell phone to Connie. “Everything is in place. I’ll pick up salad dressing. See you in a bit, dear.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I arrived in the office Monday morning with a bounce in my step, leftover goodwill from the BBQ at the Shis’ place. Needless to say, we’d all had fun. No drama. No awkward moments. It had been a while since the family had done something like that. And truthfully, it was nice talking to someone who didn’t work in law enforcement, someone who didn’t care to know the details of the investigations I worked on.

  Don’t get me wrong. Agent Tracey House was still the best female friend I had, but there was something about Connie that complemented me in ways that House didn’t. Probably because she was a mother. I loved listening to her talk about how she had lost her two boys at Disneyland, and how she’d totally flaked and forgotten her husband’s birthday and their anniversary all in the same year. It made me feel better about my own shortcomings.

  She told me I wasn’t a bad mother. “No one’s perfect. Everyone screws up. All we can do is try to minimize the damage,” she said.

  “Good morning,” Kang said. He was leaning back in his chair and sipping coffee from a mug.

  “Good morning to you too.” I dropped my purse next to my desk and sat.

  “You look chipper.”

  “I am. The whole family went to a BBQ this weekend, the parents of two boys and a girl who attend the same school as Ryan and Lucy.”

  “Look at you, mingling with other moms and dads.”

  “Hey, I can talk about something other than solving cases. I’m interesting.”

  “Didn’t say you weren’t.” Kang placed the mug on his desk. “So, these parents. What are they like?”

  “The wife, Connie, is a stay-at-home mom. Her husband, Albert, is a dentist.”

  “Let me guess: they’re Chinese?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Come on, Abby.” Kang crinkled his brow.

  “Okay, okay. So they’re Chinese. Maybe that’s why we got along. Her husband is from Hong Kong, and she’s local, from Redwood City. They both attended the same university. That’s where they met. Anyway, their oldest son also trains at the same dojo as Ryan. Their youngest, the girl, is considering signing up to be a Brownie, as is Lucy.”

  “Brownie? That’s news. Never pegged her as being interested in the Girl Scouts.”

  “She’s enamored by the idea of wearing a uniform. We’ll know if she’s serious if she maintains interest after thirty days. What did you do this weekend?”

  “I had two cousins, my mother’s side, visit. We went fishing for perch at Half Moon Bay and ended up catching a bucketful. I even reeled in a couple of Dungeness crabs.”

  “How does that work?”

  “They’re pretty stubborn creatures. Once they lock onto the bait, they don’t let go, even if it means being reeled right out of the ocean. What time do you want to head down to the facility?”

  “I thought we would visit Barnes first.”

  “The tech guy? Why?”

  “Hear me out. Barnes and Hammond, the brain surgeon, are both accomplished in their fields and have money.”

  “Barnes has stupid amounts of money. There’s no comparison.”

  “Yes, I know, but ride along with me here. Both have wealth. Both go missing for less than a day. Both have trouble recalling what happened. I’m thinking the same person might have abducted them.”

  “What’s the motive? Money?”

  “Could be. Maybe it’s blackmail. Someone discovers information about these people. He abducts them and confronts them with it. The victims don’t want this information getting out, so they agree to pay the guy off. They don’t take it any further, like going to the police, for fear that questions will be asked that might uncover what they’re trying to keep a secret.”

  Kang popped
his lips as he stared at the ceiling. “You know, you always have a way of making the tiniest of threads appear plausible and fully connected.”

  “Yeah, and so?”

  “What are you after here?”

  “The truth. I want to know exactly what’s going on. I also think there’s more to their stories that even they might not know.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “I am.”

  “So on top of the blackmail, you also think there’s stuff they’re not telling us because they themselves aren’t even aware of it?”

  “Even if they weren’t trying to cover up some embarrassing or incriminating information, they both have a spotty memory of what took place. It reminded me of how little Xiaolian could remember when we first met her.”

  Kang sat up straight in his chair and rested his forearms on his desk. “Sooner or later, you were bound to bring this back to her.”

  “I was the one questioning her, so maybe it’s only something that I can recognize.”

  Kang nodded his head.

  “They could have been drugged during the abduction and—”

  “Tell me you aren’t trying to strengthen a tie between Xiaolian and these two guys?”

  “I’m not purposely trying to do anything. I’m just following the path.”

  Kang rubbed the side of his face. “So another conversation with Barnes?”

  “That’s right. Just a conversation.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Barnes was surprised to see us. He even hesitated and asked if he needed to have his lawyer present. I quickly assured him that all we wanted was to ask a few more questions. He paused for a moment before letting us through the front gate.

  “Sometimes multiple conversations can help the investigation,” I said as we trailed behind him. “Also we’ve received new information since our last discussion.”

  “Is that so?”

  We passed through the foyer and into an open space with a large, round wooden table in the center. The décor was rustic villa. Barnes stopped next to the table and eyed the large centerpiece on top of it—a mini lemon tree, complete with hanging fruit.

  “And this is all we’re trying to do here. We appreciate you taking the time to talk to us. We understand you’re a busy man.”

  Barnes continued to ogle the arrangement, even picked a few dead leaves off of the tree. I glanced around the room. There were numerous accent tables with various pieces of art decorating their tabletops. They looked expensive. Wood replaced the marble flooring that had graced the foyer.

  Barnes turned his attention back to us. “I can’t really see how this will help. I’ve told you everything I know, but if you have the time to spare, I guess I can do the same.”

  He walked toward a pair of French doors and slid them open. “It’s a beautiful day. Let’s continue our talk outside.”

  No sooner had I set foot on the stone veranda than I became distracted. The view from inside was deceiving. Barnes had unobstructed views across the entire bay: from the Golden Gate Bridge to Alcatraz Island to the Bay Bridge.

  “So this new information you’ve received, can you share it with me?” he asked.

  “We discovered another victim with circumstances similar to yours.”

  A smile grew on Barnes’s face as he wagged a finger at us. “You see? I’m not crazy. I told you someone kidnapped me. The same thing happened to this other person, right?”

  “There are comparisons between the two of you that we find interesting. Our other victim remembers leaving his office, and the next thing he knew, he woke up sitting in the driver’s seat of his car parked at Ocean Beach.”

  “He can’t remember anything in between?”

  “It’s spotty. He was released unharmed. His money and jewelry were still intact, so we know whoever took him wasn’t after his personal effects.”

  Barnes tugged repeatedly on his chin. “This is interesting. So you’re thinking the same person took both of us?”

  “That’s a possibility we’re exploring. Let’s go over the part where you woke up in the woods.”

  “Like I said before, my memory starts with me leaning against a tree and then walking and…”

  Barnes’s eyes suddenly glazed over, as he seemed to be looking beyond us, out over the bay. I snapped my finger.

  “Mr. Barnes, do you remember something?”

  “Yes, a guy on a mountain bike rode past me. He shouted something at me. I think he called me crazy.”

  “Could you describe this guy well enough for a composite drawing?” Kang asked. “We could comb the area and see if anyone recognizes him. He might be a regular rider.”

  Barnes shook his head. “It’s like flashes of him on the bike, and just when I try to lock on him, the image disappears. Damn!”

  “Perhaps more time will make it clearer,” I said. “This is good, though. You’re remembering more. So you wake up in the woods, against a tree. You take a few steps, and a mountain biker rides by and shouts something at you… and then what?”

  “He disappears from my view. But I remember knowing enough to follow him, thinking he was riding down the mountain. The rest of the way, I see flashes of the woods until the tops of buildings and the bay appear through a clearing in the trees. Then I’m standing on the sidewalk, naked and scaring the crap out of people. I’ve seen the footage, you know. I realize I looked like a homeless madman shouting nonsense at people. But the thing is, that’s not what it felt like in my head. In my head, I was calm, speaking rationally. Every time I opened my mouth, I believed I was simply asking for help. And then I got tased.”

  “But there’s no recollection before you were standing near the tree?”

  Barnes shut his eyes, and his jawline tightened. He remained that way for a moment or so before drawing a deep breath and opening his eyes.

  “I’ve got nothing for you.”

  I puckered my lips and swished them side to side.

  “Sorry.” He shrugged.

  “Do you think you can take us to the location where you saw the mountain biker?”

  Barnes glanced at his watch. “What? Like now?”

  “Uh, yeah. Unless you’ve got other pressing matters.”

  “Well, if you go to the place where the police tased me, you’ll see the trail. Just follow it up. I’m sure the hospital gown is still up there.”

  “Mr. Barnes, were you looked over by a physician after you were arrested?”

  He laughed. “I got booked and thrown into a cell until they felt I had calmed down enough. Only then was I allowed to phone my lawyer. It took the rest of the day for me to be released. I went to my doctor the following day. He said I’d experienced some trauma, but there was nothing physically wrong with me.”

  “He didn’t by chance have bloodwork done, did he?”

  “He didn’t draw blood, so I’m guessing the answer is no. Why?”

  “Well, it could tell us if someone drugged you.” I looked at Kang. “It’s been about a week. What do you think?”

  “I think it couldn’t hurt,” he replied.

  “Could we stop talking in police code?” Barnes asked, clearly annoyed.

  “We’d like one of our guys to give you a thorough physical. They’ll know exactly what to look for.”

  “You think I still have drugs in my system?”

  “You might. Is finding out worth an hour or two of your time?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  After our talk with Barnes, we made a decision to check out the woods, and he agreed to head down to our offices to have his bloodwork done. It was a long shot, but I had a hunch building in my stomach.

  “I’m pretty sure propofol exits the body within twenty-four hours,” Kang said as we drove away from Barnes’s residence.

  “I realize that, but I want to cover all our bases,” I said. “Maybe it was used initially, and something else was used after.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Mount Sutro is an eighty-acre fores
t protected by the city and the University of California, San Francisco, which controls a vast majority of the area. There are dozens of trails winding around the mountain, showing off the two-hundred-year-old growth of the forest. The drive there didn’t take us very long.

  Barnes had been apprehended by SFPD on Edgewood Road. Edgewood Trail begins where the road dead-ends. Kang parked, and we exited our vehicle. I slipped my jacket off and left it in the car. Kang did the same. We were both wearing flat shoes but wished we had hiking shoes or at least athletic shoes.

  A small board with a map of the various trails was posted at the trailhead. There were a number of trails that funneled into Edgewood Trail, which led directly to our location.

  “I wonder if he was even on a trail,” Kang said.

  “I had the same thought. He could have just been roaming around and hit a trail as he reached the bottom of the hill.”

  “Probably makes sense to follow Edgewood Trail, and then when it begins to branch off into the other trails, to play it by ear from there.”

  “Sounds reasonable to me.”

  Kang snapped a picture of the map with his cell phone. “Don’t want to get lost.”

  We started following Edgewood Trail. It was neatly groomed but steep. We continued at a slow pace, our eyes searching the woods. The area was quiet, save for the chirping of the birds. The hike was physically challenging, but the canopy of trees helped keep us cool.

  Barnes estimated that the time between when he had removed the gown and when he had hit the street was about forty minutes. So we knew we had a ways to go before we would have an opportunity to recover the gown, if we got lucky.

  Eventually, Edgewood Trail came to a T intersection. Kang removed his phone and pulled up the picture he’d taken earlier.

  “According to this map, this is where Historic Trail turns into Stanyan Trail. If we follow Historic, it’ll take us north but down around the lower part of the slope. If we follow Stanyan, we’ll head south and eventually down the hill, but Stanyan connects to the North Ridge Trail, which takes us farther up the mountain.”

 

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