If I could find him in time.
Chapter 16
The ugly draperies finally found a good use when combined with the scissors in Ian’s junk drawer. The silver-tipped material actually looked good wrapped tightly around my right leg like some hippie statement my adoptive parents would have understood and applauded. Not only did the wrapping stop the blood but it hid most of what had dripped. The gunshot was a surface wound that didn’t look as bad as it felt, so there would be no worries about having to dig out the bullet later. Once I got moving and focused, I could almost ignore the pain.
I left the door to Ian’s apartment open. I could already hear the mournful wail of the ambulance as I left the building and hurried to Paige’s squad car. How long would I have before the police started looking for the vehicle? Hopefully, it’d be long enough.
In the car, I took Jake’s black cell phone from the plastic bag, careful to secure the plastic between my skin and the phone so I wouldn’t relive the imprints, and dialed Kolonda’s number. She answered on the second ring.
I started the engine. “I need the address to your buildings.” I knew the general area, of course, since learning of the impending shopping complexes, but as Kolonda gave me the address and tried to explain exactly where they were located, I felt a sinking disappointment. I was hopelessly directionally impaired and finding them could take time I simply didn’t have.
Wait. The squad car had a GPS. I’d start toward the right area of town and program in the address at the next stoplight.
“Is this about Jake?” Kolonda asked before I could hang up.
“I think maybe he’s being held in a building near there. I’m not sure where.”
“What can I do? I meant it when I said I’d give up my properties for Jake.”
“This is bigger than just your buildings.”
“I should never have given him up.” There, it was out.
“Maybe,” I said, “but you did.”
I hung up because there was nothing more to say, and the last thing I needed was to get in a car accident while telling Kolonda to stay away from Jake.
The GPS on the squad car turned out to be something you could use only if you had a degree in electronics or had gone through officer training—neither of which I could claim. After three tries at three different lights, I gave up and took to watching the buildings. I was sure I could find the general area and hopefully pinpoint it from there.
Up and down the streets I drove, praying to God and the universe, tears stinging my eyes. I was nearly ready to turn on the squad car lights and demand help from the nearest pedestrian when I saw the building. Ignoring the honking from the guy in a van behind me, I pulled abruptly over. Checking the pen’s imprint once more verified that this was the right street. Now I wished I’d brought Ian’s gun, because I wanted to recheck the angle of that imprint as well, but instead I closed my eyes and tried to remember. This had to be the place, though the building seemed farther to the left than in the imprint from the pen. My job would be to find the building that had the right angle.
There weren’t any parking places along the packed street, so I left the squad car double-parked and hotfooted it up the sidewalk. Now that it had rested, my wounded leg rebelled at the effort. There weren’t many people out and about at this time of night, despite the jam of parked cars, and the furtive looks of a few youths sitting on apartment steps made me wonder if I was safe. I couldn’t worry about that now. Holding my head up, I hurried down the street with a confidence I was far from feeling.
When I found the right angle at last, my heart plunged. It could be one of two buildings, and they were both larger than the rest on the street, possibly containing dozens of apartments. Signs advertising availability told me which apartments were vacant, and I knew Jake would likely be held in one of those, but the sheer number of vacancies was overwhelming. How was I going to find him? I didn’t even know for sure if he was there. Searching would eat up valuable time. It was all I could do not to start punching something.
Oh, Jake. I’m sorry.
Then I thought of Tawnia.
Stepping into the shadows of the stairs leading up to the first apartment building, I dialed my twin’s number from Jake’s phone that I’d stuck, bag and all, into the pocket of my jeans.
“Jake?” Tawnia asked eagerly. “No, it’s Autumn.”
“I heard about what happened to Jake. Is there any news? I’ve been trying to call you. Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
“Battery’s dead. Listen. I need you to draw a picture. I need a number.”
“That’s another reason why I’ve been calling. I have been drawing something strange. A tall building next to several shorter ones.”
“Good. I need the other side of that street. A number. A number on the outside of a tall building or an apartment number.”
“Autumn, I can’t.” Tawnia sounded scared.
“You have to. He has Jake and Sawyer.”
“Who?”
“Ian Gideon.”
“The hot attorney who was gaga over Paige? You’ve got to be kidding.” But she knew I wasn’t. There was silence for a long moment and then, “I’m sorry, Autumn. I’m trying, but nothing is coming. No number, no building, nothing except a parking garage. A small one. I’ve never seen it before.”
A parking garage? Why did that seem familiar? There weren’t any parking garages here in this older section of town, not if I could judge by the numerous cars squeezed against the curbs.
“Autumn, are you okay?” Tawnia asked.
“I can’t lose Jake. I can’t.” I’d lost too many people. I’d rather see him with Kolonda than gone from my life permanently.
“I can’t lose you.”
We were a sorry pair, my sister and I, our early losses making us needy and fearful. But she had Bret and soon would have the baby, and her adoptive parents were still alive, if not deeply involved in her life. So even at the risk of her losing me, I had to continue.
Why was a parking garage familiar? Wait. Tonight I’d seen a key card for a parking garage—a garage at Simeon, Gideon & Associates. It was the only garage I could think of that might be related. Jake might have been here earlier, but he could have been moved to the garage—I didn’t doubt Tawnia’s gift any more than I doubted my own. Well, that wasn’t exactly right because I certainly did doubt my own, but I knew both were real and mostly reliable.
“Thanks,” I told my sister. “I think I know where the garage is.”
“Where? Are you sure about going?” My sister’s voice was panicked.
“To Simeon and Gideon. Will you get hold of Shannon and tell him to meet me there?”
“No need,” a voice said from behind me. “I’m here.” I whirled and saw Shannon standing to my left, out of breath. On the other side of the street his unmarked Mustang sat in what must have been the only parking spot available in the entire area, the door standing open. His tousled hair reflected light from the few streets lights that the resident hoodlums had not yet gotten around to breaking or that had been recently replaced. He made a solid figure in the darkness, something to turn to, and with his beautiful aqua eyes, he looked a bit like an avenging angel.
“Never mind. Shannon’s here,” I said into the phone.
“Oh, thank you, God,” she murmured, which told me she’d been praying.
“Stop worrying. I’ve got to go. Bye.” I hung up before she could say anything more.
“How’s Paige?” I asked Shannon, letting my hand rest on his arm.
“I don’t know. I came right here to see what trouble you were getting into. They’ll let me know when they have something to say.” That he’d come to find me instead of going to Paige said something, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what.
Shannon looked pointedly at my hand where I now gripped his arm. “I take it you’re glad to see me?”
He was trying to lighten the atmosphere, but I wasn’t biting. “I can’t work the GPS, and you�
�re the one with the gun.” I started for his car.
Shannon came after me—fast but without appearing to hurry. “So why are we going to Simeon and Gideon?”
“I think that’s where Jake is.”
“And Sawyer?”
“Maybe.”
I was grateful I wouldn’t have to find my way in the dark to the law office alone. I was also grateful for his company, though I’d never admit as much to him. At least I was doing a good job at not limping because he didn’t bother to run around and open my door.
The street still held a bit of warmth, though the sun was down, and it felt good against my bare feet. There was a growing coldness in my wounded leg that I didn’t like one bit.
Shannon was already inside the car when I saw Kolonda— not coming from one of her buildings farther down the street but emerging from the building I’d almost entered. She must have left right when I’d called her in order to beat me to the area, though I really had no idea how long I’d driven around before finding the place.
“Well?” Shannon asked, leaning over to look at me through the open car door where I stood frozen, my hand on the door.
I motioned for him to zip it. Giving me a scowl, he gazed in the direction I was staring.
With Kolonda was a broad, swarthy man I’d never seen before. He wore work clothes, his white T-shirt badly stained, and his forehead ending in sparse hair that was long enough to be pulled into a ridiculous ponytail. He stood at Kolonda’s height, short for a man, and he walked with his hand on her elbow, which seemed odd to me because it was obvious they ran in different circles. His sloppy dress, the scraggly goatee, and even the solid, plodding way he walked told me they had nothing in common. This man probably hadn’t made it through high school, and Kolonda valued education above all else. She ate fine foods while he lived off beer and whatever passed for food at the local pub. He watched sports and she attended charity fundraisers and operas. If she wasn’t his tutor, they could have nothing to talk about.
Unless it had to do with her rental buildings. Or Jake.
As I watched, the man put her into a battered blue truck and went around to the driver’s side. I hoped she’d open the door and make a run for it, but apparently she hadn’t finished whatever business she wanted to conduct with the man.
I let myself sink to the seat inside Shannon’s car, trying to ignore the fiery ache in my leg.
“You know her?” Shannon asked as he pulled into the street after them.
“That’s Kolonda Lewis.”
“I see.”
“I’m not sure who that guy is, but something’s not right. He might be the contractor who was trying to buy her buildings. It’s an odd time to meet with him, though.”
“We’d better follow them.”
“No. We have to get to Jake.” He was my responsibility. Kolonda wasn’t. I felt guilty because I knew Jake would want me to care about her, but I simply wasn’t that good.
Shannon dialed a number on his phone. “Any news?” He asked the person on the other end of the line. He sighed. “Okay, good. Hey, you interviewed the contractor today when Jake Ryan went missing. What’s he look like?” He listened a moment. “That’s what I thought. Thanks.”
I stared at him, but he didn’t enlighten me until I said, “Well?”
“Paige regained consciousness, but she has a concussion. She keeps slipping in and out. The doctors are doing tests now.”
I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad news. “And the contractor?”
“Name’s Tony Blancher, and the guy with Kolonda matches his description. Not the type to leave a good impression.”
“I hope she isn’t doing something stupid.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” There had been desperation in her voice the last two times we’d talked. If I’d been in her place, I couldn’t have sat at home doing nothing. Then again, I wasn’t a teacher from a privileged family. I was a woman accustomed to making do with little, often taking calculated risks for those I cared about and usually landing on my feet. Moreover, I had a talent that helped me at least as often as it caused chaos. “Maybe she’s selling her buildings in the hopes that brings back Jake.”
“That might complicate things.”
Or maybe it would help Jake.
The truck in front of us turned abruptly, but Shannon didn’t follow. I fought down another twinge of guilt. Jake first—and the little boy whose toy soldier was searing a hole in the pocket of my jeans.
Moments later, Shannon turned on his siren and the police lights that were embedded into the dash. “You hot?” he asked. His eyes went briefly to my lips and then back to the road.
I ran my fingers above my top lip and felt drops of moisture there. “I’m fine,” I said, but I’d felt hot since the explosion and hotter since my run-in with Ian. Stupid leg, anyway.
We were across town in half the time I could have made it on my own, Shannon silencing the siren several blocks from the law office.
“He might not be there,” I warned. “Tawnia didn’t draw him. But something’s happening here, and it must be connected.”
“You telling me we’re here because of Tawnia’s drawing?” The dubious tone in his voice irritated me. Tawnia and I had proven ourselves over and over again. What would it take to satisfy this man? I didn’t remind him that I was the reason both he and Dennis were still alive.
“Not here,” I told him, as he pulled up in front of the building. “There’s underground parking somewhere. Not sure where.” I wished I’d been able to touch the garage card key in Ian’s drawer because then I might have something else to tell Shannon. Of course, it could just as well have held nothing.
He stared at me. “How do we get in? We’ll need either an opener or a code.”
“A card. We’ll have to think of something.”
“There has to be a way to the garage from the inside,” Shannon said. “There’s probably a night watchman, considering how large the company is, and I bet a few of the attorneys are burning the midnight oil. Come on.” He strode toward the building, and I had to hurry to catch up. My leg was stiff and numb now. I hoped that was a good sign.
The double glass doors were locked, but after a bit of banging, a scrawny watchman appeared with a mustard smear on his chin. He had a Taser but no gun that I could see. The tag on his chest read Robison, but whether it was a first or a last name was left to the imagination. When Shannon flashed his badge through the glass, the man opened the door a few inches.
“I can’t let you in unless I contact one of the partners,” he said. “We have a lot of sensitive files here.”
I wondered if there was a file on me. If Ian had already begun to research my background, he might have found my birth mother’s family and possibly my father’s. But, no, there hadn’t been time for that. I’d only met him yesterday, so unless he’d completed a background check on all of Dennis and Sophie’s acquaintances, he wouldn’t have any information yet on me or my sister.
“We don’t want the files,” Shannon said, his voice barely restrained. “Look, uh, Mr. Robison, we need to get into your parking garage.”
The guard took out his phone. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll just call Mr. Gideon.”
Shannon pushed open the door and snatched the phone from the guard. “Sorry. Can’t let you do that.”
“How do I know you’re really even the police? Show me a warrant or leave now.”
“We’re not going anywhere. You’ll have to trust me.”
The guard groaned. “You’re going to get me fired. I have kids. I need this job.” He curled in on himself as though giving up, but I recognized the fake-out move that my fellow student Edward often used in our taekwondo class, one I’d always considered a bit underhanded. Next, the guard would be reaching for his Taser. Anger flared inside me. I kicked at his knee with my left foot, following it with a hard right punch and an elbow jab that helped him find the floor. He moaned more loudly.
“Was that absolutely necessary?” Shannon said.
“You’re welcome.” The man had zero grace when it came to my saving his hide. I had no illusions that my attack had been successful only because I’d taken the guard by surprise, but I was beginning to feel more confident with my moves. “Shouldn’t you take his Taser?”
“I’m sure he’ll behave himself now.” Shannon rested one hand pointedly on his gun as he helped the guard to his feet. “Do you have security monitors?”
The guard’s face became resigned. “A few.”
“Any in the parking garage?”
“Two.”
“Show me.”
We followed the guard past the reception desk and into the same hallway that housed Dennis’s small office. The area was lit with a minimum of fluorescent lighting, but it was bright compared to outside. The building was warmer, too, which I hadn’t expected. They must turn the air-conditioning off at night. My right leg hurt worse since I’d placed so much weight on it during my encounter with the guard, and Shannon eyed me suspiciously.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Peachy.” Better than Jake was, I suspected.
The security room was about half the size of Dennis’s office. A long desk spanning one wall held four monitors and what looked like a half-eaten gourmet sandwich from one of Portland’s better delis. One monitor showed the lower lobby, and a second displayed the upper lobby where the partner attorneys had their offices. Two more cameras were in the parking garage, one at the elevator connecting the garage to the building, the other at the entrance where an automatic door kept out the riffraff.
“Not much help,” Shannon muttered as he cuffed Robison to a chair.
“Wait.” I pointed to the far monitor. A battered blue truck came squealing up to the garage doors, and the driver leaned out his window to swipe a card. I caught a glimpse of another face beside him before the door opened and the truck left the camera’s view.
Shannon looked at the guard. “That truck come here often?”
On the Hunt Page 20