Nameless (Sinister Secrets Book 1)

by Candle Sutton

  “Find out if she’s working today. Maybe JD and Felicia can talk to her while they’re there.”

  Sid left the room and Dak turned his attention to her. “Anything interesting on social media?”

  “Not worth mentioning.”

  He waited for her to mention it anyway.

  “Conrad is a consistent poster and posts everything she does. Everywhere she goes. Every food she eats.”

  Dak nodded slowly. “One of those.”

  “Definitely. She has her account open so that everyone can see what she’s doing and who she’s with. Contrasted with Wendy & Oliver, who have their accounts locked down so I can’t see what they’re doing.” They could try reaching out to the social media sites to see if they’d cooperate with the investigation. With all the privacy concerns these days, businesses weren’t always so eager to assist law enforcement. “I’m going through Conrad’s posts and looking at the people in the background, but it’s going to take some time. If we could cross reference the pictures with any that might be on Wendy or Oliver’s feeds, that would help.”

  “Maybe we can. It’s worth asking their friends to see if they’d be willing to log in and let us copy the pictures on the feed.”

  It was a great idea. “Maybe JD and Felicia can ask when they talk to Wendy’s friend.”

  He nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking. I’ll go through the list of Oliver’s known contacts to see if any of them are connected on social media.”

  “Hey.”

  Kevyn jerked, bumping her water bottle as Sid popped back into the office. She caught it before it shorted out her computer, then looked up to find Sid grinning.

  “Jumpy much?”

  “Indoor voice?” She smiled to let him know that it didn’t bother her.

  “What’s the fun in that?” His smile faded as he shifted his attention between her and Dak. “So Becky has the day off, but I reached her at home. She’s not doing anything and said we could stop by any time.”

  Dak glanced between the two of them. “Why don’t you guys head out there now?”

  Yes! She’d take any excuse to get back out in the field and away from her computer. Rising, she slid her weapon into the holster and her badge into the pocket on her lightweight jacket.

  “I’m drivin’.” Sid’s words contained a hint of challenge.

  Like she’d challenge that. She was more than happy to let him drive, especially since she was still learning the city. “Go for it.”

  She only hoped that Wendy’s friend had some answers for them.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  He hadn’t planned for this.

  Jax stared out the window at the gray stormy sea, his mind churning like the waters of the Puget Sound stretching in front of him.

  No one was supposed to want to leave. Yet she had, and he’d had to get rid of her.

  Now he was one short. His house needed six people living there, not five.

  He hadn’t created a contingency plan, hadn’t picked replacements. Yet now, he needed one.

  Part of him wanted to swear, scream, put his fist through the wall, but he remained motionless.

  Such displays were beneath him.

  He would find a replacement. Quickly. If that meant he didn’t research as thoroughly as he had for the first group, then that was what he would do.

  Thanksgiving was only one week away. He would have a full house, one way or another.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  The car eased to a stop in front of a mid-century Victorian house in need of a good freshening.

  As much as she tried to ignore the peeling paint and sagging porch, Kevyn found it almost impossible to look away. What she could do to this house with fifty grand and a few weeks!

  Stepping from the car, she moved toward the front door, Sid falling into step beside her.

  Half the shutters were missing, the other half looking like forlorn orphans. Sad. This house deserved better.

  Several doorbells glowed beside the leaded glass door. Labels assigned a name to each one.

  They’d turned this classic house into apartments? It should be criminal.

  Sid checked the labels, then pushed one of the buttons. A moment later, the intercom beside the door crackled to life. “Yes?”

  “Becky Beauregard? Sid McInnis, FBI. We spoke on the phone earlier.”

  “Of course. I’ll buzz you in.”

  A muted buzz sounded. Sid pulled open the door and waved Kevyn in.

  Worn hardwood flooring stretched down a hallway in front of them. Two closed doors, one on either side, flanked the hall. A wide stairway rose steeply beside the door on their left, stretching to a small landing above them.

  A woman waited at the top of the stairs, her black curly ringlets a riot around her chocolate face. Skinny arms wrapped around her narrow frame and her fingers gripped her chunky blue sweater.

  The woman looked ready to run at the slightest movement.

  “Ms. Beauregard?”

  A single nod answered her inquiry. “Becky.”

  “Hi Becky, I’m Kevyn Taylor, FBI. May we come up?”

  The briefest hesitation, then she nodded. “I’d like to see some ID.”

  “Of course.” Pulling her badge, Kevyn held it up briefly before ascending the stairs and handing it to Becky.

  After looking at it for a moment, Becky returned the badge and waved her hand. “I’m over here. Come on in.”

  The dated walnut door opened into a modest living room. A small kitchen hugged the far corner of the room. Uneven texture on the ceiling showed where walls had been removed to accommodate the modified living space.

  A shudder rocked Becky’s body. “I’m sorry. This is all so crazy. I mean, one day Wendy was here and now… I don’t understand why anyone would do this.”

  Best not to tell her what had happened to Susan Conrad.

  Sid rocked slightly on his feet. “We’re doing everything we can to find Wendy and bring her home safely.”

  With her back as straight as the walls around them, Becky showed no sign of relaxing. Maybe a distraction was in order.

  Kevyn made a show of surveying the apartment. “This is such a unique building. I love the way you’ve brought the house’s Victorian feel into your décor. How long have you lived here?”

  A breath leaked out of Becky. “I’ve been here about three years, I guess. It’s not big or anything, but it has more character than an apartment, right?”

  “Definitely.” Kevyn gently brushed her fingers over the red paisley fabric on a footed chair beside them. “You have excellent taste.”

  “Thanks.” A hint of a smile touched Becky’s lips. “You wanna sit down?”

  Kevyn eased into the chair beside her, Sid took a matching one, and Becky settled on an ivory clawfoot sofa.

  “How long have you known Wendy?” Sid asked as he crossed his ankle over his knee.

  “Gosh, we’ve been friends since she started attending my church a few years ago. It was right after her parents died and I could see she needed a friend, you know?”

  “And you have lunch together regularly?” Kevyn pulled her notepad and pen out of her purse, even though Sid had already turned on a recorder.

  “Every Monday. The bank where Wendy works is super busy on Mondays and she has to be to work early and stay late, so she takes a longer lunch to balance the time. We usually go to Scapelli’s Bistro ‘cause it’s in the building where I work and they’ve got the best soup and sandwiches.”

  “That sounds nice.” Kevyn’s smile earned a hesitant one in return. “How did Wendy seem the last time you saw her? Was she nervous or scared or anything?”

  “No. That’s what’s so scary. It was a normal day, and she was like she always is.”

  “Did she say anything about anyone bothering her?” Sid slowly drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Anyone who had approached her and made her uncomfortable? Or anyone following her?”

  A tear slid down Becky’s cheek. “No, nothing. I
really don’t think she knew anything was going to happen.”

  Of course she didn’t know. If she’d known, she would have taken extra precautions.

  Kevyn kept the thought inside. Becky was processing, maybe even wondering why it had happened to Wendy and not her.

  Which was a good question. If Nobles Department Store was the hunting ground, what had drawn their unsub to Wendy, who only passed through there maybe once a week?

  “Have you noticed anything unusual? Anyone who makes you uncomfortable?” Sid asked.

  A humorless laugh erupted from Becky. “I work retail in downtown Seattle. There are always people who make me uncomfortable. That’s life in customer service.”

  True enough. Kevyn shifted the focus. “What about employees? Do you work with anyone who maybe showed an interest in Wendy? Or in you?”

  It was always possible that Becky had caught their unsub’s attention, but Wendy had been the easier target.

  Becky shrugged. “Not really. I mean there’s creepy Norman in receiving, and a manager who’s a bit scuzzy, but no one that I think would do this.”

  “You and Wendy had lunch two days before she went missing, right?” Kevyn purposefully softened her tone.

  Becky’s forehead creased and her eyes filled. “Yeah. If I’d known…”

  “Did anything unusual happen? The waiter spill water on either of you or mix up the order? Anything that might have drawn extra attention?”

  “Noooo…” Becky’s eyes widened. “Wait. The week before, the waiter was cleaning the table behind us and tripped over a chair leg. He knocked the table over and everyone in the place turned to look ‘cause it was super loud.”

  Was it possible their unsub had been in the restaurant that day? And maybe been drawn to Wendy somehow?

  It was worth researching. She jotted it down.

  What if it wasn’t the department store that was the hunting ground? What if it was the restaurant?

  She made another note.

  “Do you know Susan Conrad? Or Oliver Richards?” Kevyn watched Becky closely for any sign of recognition. “They both work at Nobles.”

  Becky’s head tilted slightly to the left and her eyebrows scrunched together. “I don’t think so. But there are a lot of people who work there.”

  “Susan works in men’s suiting and Oliver works in shoes.”

  Becky shook her head. “I don’t work or shop in those areas. Honestly, if they don’t work somewhere in cosmetics, I probably don’t know them.”

  “Is that your department?” Sid’s question brought Becky’s attention back to him.

  “Yeah. Well, fragrances.” Becky looked back and forth between them. “Did they do this? Take Wendy?”

  “No. Their names came up in connection with our investigation.”

  Knowing that there may be someone targeting Nobles employees would serve no purpose but to further alarm her. It certainly wouldn’t get them any closer to finding Wendy, Oliver, or Ava.

  Although if she knew what was going on, she could be eyes and ears on the ground.

  One look at the tears Becky barely contained and the shaking hands clenched in her lap and Kevyn discarded the idea. The woman didn’t possess the right skills to play it cool.

  They needed someone on the inside.

  Maybe an undercover op?

  She hadn’t been there long enough to know if Dak, much less SAC Sorenson, would go for such a thing. But she’d find out, just as soon as she could.

  “Is Wendy on social media?”

  Becky shrugged. “Well, she does have one account but I don’t think she posts very much. She’s kinda private.”

  Maybe she didn’t post much, but she might be tagged in other people’s posts.

  “Are you friends with her? We’d like to look through recent pictures, see if anything stands out.”

  Becky’s eyes widened, the white contrasting with her black lashes and dark skin. “You think she knows the person who did this?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But we believe that she wasn’t abducted randomly. We think her abductor watched her for a while and chose her purposely.”

  Becky stared at her as if she’d suggested Wendy had been abducted by aliens.

  “Sooo…” Sid held the syllable until Becky turned to him. “Could you log in and let us look over your shoulder?”

  “Oh!” Becky blinked rapidly. “Yeah. Sure. Let me grab my laptop”

  She disappeared down a small hallway beyond the kitchen, returning a moment later with an older laptop. The sound of her fingers tapping the keys echoed in the suddenly quiet room. A minute passed before she looked up at them. “Okay, I’m in.”

  Kevyn joined her on the sofa. Sid stood behind them, resting his hands on the sofa’s back.

  Letting her eyes travel across Wendy’s page, Kevyn looked for anything that stood out.

  Nothing did. In fact, Wendy’s most recent post went back a few months. “Can we see her photos?”

  Becky brought up the photos. The most recent one was six months old.

  It was unlikely that their unsub had waited six months to act, not with the escalation. Patience didn’t seem to be a virtue he, or she, possessed.

  “What about any photos she was tagged in?” Sid’s voice was loud in her ear.

  A good thought, assuming that Wendy was in any photos and that the person posting them would tag, or link, them to her.

  “I don’t know that she woulda been…” Becky navigated the site, searching for anything linked to Wendy.

  Nothing came up.

  “Wendy really keeps to herself and doesn’t get in a lot of photos.” Becky lifted her shoulders in a small shrug.

  Given everything she’d learned about Wendy, Kevyn wasn’t surprised.

  They searched the site for a few more minutes before Sid sighed. “Looks like a bust here. She got any other accounts?”

  Becky shook her head. “That’s it.”

  Scooting over to give Becky a little space, Kevyn eased out a slow breath.

  So the social media connection came up empty. They’d gotten a good lead with the restaurant.

  She only hoped it would pan out. If Susan Conrad’s fate was any indication, Wendy, Oliver, and Ava might not have much time left.

  Seven

  Dak shut down his computer and pushed back from his desk.

  It’d been a long day, with frustratingly little progress. Sure, they’d chased down several leads, but it felt like they were no closer to bringing any of their victims home.

  The rest of the team had left about ten minutes earlier, but he’d needed to respond to a few emails before he could call it a day.

  Now, finally, he could leave.

  He’d feel better about going home if he knew Wendy, Oliver, and Ava were able to do the same.

  The cubicle area was nearly empty. All the offices were dark.

  He rode the elevator down to the parking garage without having to stop to pick anyone else up.

  A growl churned his stomach.

  Maybe he’d stop for a burger or something on the way home.

  The doors slid open to the subterranean parking garage and he stepped into the cool, dank air.

  Even though this one was secured, he’d never been a fan of parking garages.

  He headed left, toward the row where he always parked his Jeep.

  From somewhere in the garage, he heard the echo of an engine trying – and failing – to start.

  Ugh. Not a fun way to end the day.

  His steps slowed. He really should check it out. See if he could help.

  He wasn’t terribly mechanical, but he could manage a few basic things. Maybe it’d be as simple as a loose wire or something.

  Honestly, he’d rather ignore it. Grab some dinner, go home, and relax.

  He felt a twinge inside. That wasn’t what Jesus would have done and he was called to walk in Jesus’ steps.

  He sighed. Sometimes doing the right thing wasn’t fun. Not at all.

&
nbsp; Especially when he was tired and frustrated.

  The whirring sound came again.

  Sounded like it was coming from behind him.

  He turned around and headed for the sound before he could talk himself out of it.

  With so few vehicles in the garage, it wasn’t hard to find the source of the problem.

  The blue glow of the garage lights shimmered on the shiny deep red paint of the classic Mustang. The car looked flawless on the outside, but clearly had some underlying mechanical issues.

  Tinted windows kept him from seeing anything inside.

  Arizona license plates identified the car as out of state.

  His steps slowed.

  How did a vehicle with Arizona plates end up in the secured garage?

  He looked around. No one else in sight. Could this be some kind of set-up?

  That was ridiculous.

  Wasn’t it?

  Of course it was! He hadn’t received notification of any convicts being released recently. No death threats or hate mail.

  His fingers brushed the cold steel of his Glock.

  Never could be too careful. He pulled it from his holster.

  The driver’s door on the Mustang creaked open.

  A glimpse of blonde hair and a denim clad leg registered before a woman stepped from the vehicle.

  He lowered his gun.

  Kevyn.

  She left the door open and approached him, a faint flush coloring her cheeks.

  Re-holstering his weapon, he smiled. “Nice wheels.”

  Her jaw clenched. “When it runs.”

  “Just won’t start?”

  She crossed her arms and glared at the car. “It’s been acting up the last few days but I haven’t had a chance to find a shop.”

  Looked like that was about to change. “A guy at my church runs a shop in the Queen Anne area. He’ll give you a fair shake.”

  And probably love every minute of it.

  Adam had a soft spot for classic cars. And pretty blondes.

  “Is that close? I’m still trying to learn my way around.”

  “Close-ish. It’s north of downtown.”

  The corners of her lips curled up slightly. “That could work perfectly. I’m north of here, too.”