by Tom Fowler
Once I came across non-work sites, I took notes. After going through four days’ worth of records, I had a crick in my neck and a page of scribblings. “Anything we can use?” Rollins asked while I rolled my head from side to side.
“I think so,” I said. “I want to review this first.” I scanned the list, putting a priority on anything related to travel. If Arash hopped on a plane, we needed to know where and when. If he rented an Airbnb somewhere, I would find it. I crossed off the less relevant results and focused on a site touting discounted vacation rentals.
The website alone didn’t provide a clue where Arash went. For this, I examined his temporary Internet files. Microsoft makes the main folder easy to find, then turns everything below it into a mess. I dug up the most recent entries and sifted through them. A photo corresponding to the vacation site popped up. It showed a cabin likely to be favored by campers and other fans of the wilderness. Thankfully, it was captioned.
The property belonged to a community in Frederick County.
I didn’t know anyone in Frederick County. Having a law enforcement contact could be useful if we needed to kick in a door or shoot an aggressive legbreaker. Hoping for the best in this rather narrow circumstance, I called Rich. “You know anyone in Frederick County?”
“Define ‘anyone.’”
“A person. Homo sapien. In this case, somebody in law enforcement.”
“Why do I feel you have something reckless in mind?” Rich asked.
“Probably because it’s my default plan.”
“Maybe you should come up with a better one.”
“Rich. Frederick County—yea or nay?”
“Yeah, I know a deputy out there,” he said. “You looking for some official support?”
“Only if this goes off the rails. I think you, Rollins, and I can handle it.”
“What if this guy has a building full of men?”
“Good thing we have a recon expert,” I said. “If it looks like we’d be walking into superior numbers, we can summon official backup.”
Rich sighed. He did this often when we talked. “I’m not sure I like this. I know why you’re doing it, though.” He paused, and I could picture his frown and pursed lips as he stewed over what to do. “All right. I’m in.”
“Thanks, Rich. Can you meet us here in an hour?”
“I’ll be there,” he said and hung up. Rollins left to gear up. An hour later, both of them sat in my living room with an olive military duffel at their feet. Rich packed lighter, probably not wanting to strain his unofficial participation in this rescue operation . . . or whatever it was. I knew Rollins was good for an array of tactical gear.
“Here’s where they’re staying,” I said, showing each a printout of the cabin. “I called the management company, and they’re staying in one-fifteen.” I passed Rich a double-sided printout. “There’s a map of the area. None of the cabins are really close to one another, so we shouldn’t attract a lot of attention. The other side is a floor plan I found online. Pretty simple layout.” The bottom level consisted of a living room, dining room, and kitchen. Upstairs were the three bedrooms. Each story housed a bathroom.
“Only one way up and down the stairs,” Rollins said. “An adult could jump from a second-story window, but I don’t think they’d risk it with a child.”
“Unlikely,” Rich said in concurrence. “There’s a back door, though. We’ll need to breach both. If everyone is on the second level, we keep containment by putting someone at the bottom of the stairs. I’ll do it.”
“You sure?” I asked.
“It’s my day off. I don’t want to raid the second floor and maybe get into a shootout.”
I grinned. “Fair enough. Everyone ready to go?”
“We’ll take my truck,” Rollins said. “Might need it in the woods.”
I checked my .45 and two spare clips. Then, I slipped a bullet-resistant vest over my head. It had been a while since I last wore it. One of these years, I might actually get used to storming buildings. Until then, I felt glad for the company of two professionals. “Let’s hit the road,” I said. “We have a little girl to rescue.”
Chapter 26
We rode in Rollins’ truck to Frederick County. It’s a scenic and rural part of Maryland, with its eponymous town being the largest city. We drove through a fast food restaurant for a quick dinner, eating while we continued along the Beltway and I-70. Civilization yielded to trees as the landscape sped by outside my window.
Rollins’ GPS took us to the wooded community. It billed itself as a campground, but it only featured cabins. No tents or RVs. I loathed camping, but wasn’t it supposed to be a sleeping bag inside a tent? Spending time in a building in the woods seemed a lot like spending time in a building in the city to me. All you did was change the background and subtract a few creature comforts.
With night having settled in, we didn’t see many people milling about. This would make our job easier. A family of stargazers enjoyed the lack of ambient light as they looked up at the black sky. The son peered through a telescope and pointed excitedly at something far above in the heavens. I recalled doing something similar the one and only time my parents took my sister and me camping. Whether my mother or I hated the weekend more was still a subject of occasional debate.
Without proper roads, units tended to be in sequential order. We drove past 113 and 114. Our destination loomed ahead on the left. The nearest cabin must have been a hundred yards away. Rollins killed the lights and brought the truck to a stop behind a large bush and tree. It would be difficult to see from the dwelling.
We got out and shut our doors as quietly as we could. While we lingered to detect if anyone noticed us, Rich and Rollins conducted a weapons check. Never one to be excluded from such fun, I followed suit. “I’m going to scout around,” Rollins said. “You two stay out of sight as best you can. We’ll firm up our plan when I get back.
“All right,” I said.
“You’re supposed to say, ‘Roger that,’” Rich told me.
“I’ll leave it to you professionals.” We slipped Bluetooth earpieces in our ears, and Rollins established a three-way call. Then, he padded away. Even standing a few feet away, I couldn’t hear him as he moved over the forest floor. I knew I had my uses in situations like this, but Rollins possessed training and skills I could never hope to match. I felt glad he was willing to work with me so often.
Rich and I took up positions on either side of a large oak tree. We were about fifty feet from the front door. Rollins long since disappeared into the foliage. “What kind of numbers you think we’ll see in there?” Rich asked, his voice quiet above the breeze.
“Pretty low,” I said. “These places aren’t big. You can’t sleep an army inside. Besides, Arash doesn’t strike me as the type to inspire a lot of loyalty.”
“He’s right,” Rollins said from somewhere behind me. I about leapt into the tree, and it took all my self-restraint not to swear at the top of my lungs. “I didn’t see anyone on the ground level. I estimate three or four hostiles upstairs, plus the child.”
“There’s a back door, right?” Rich said.
Rollins nodded. “Jeep parked nearby.”
“I guess they’re not trying to advertise their presence,” I said. “With as far as it is between units, I doubt anyone’s even heard Iris cry.”
“Let's get her back,” Rollins said. He pointed to the cabin. “Rich and I will go in the front. You take the back. If there's no one on the ground floor, we meet at the stairs.”
We all skulked off. I broke from Rich and Rollins, stayed in a crouch, and moved to the rear of the cabin. A Jeep Grand Cherokee sat about fifteen feet away. It could hold four adults plus Iris. I checked the knob and found it locked. “Have to pick my way in,” I said over the connection.
“Same here,” came Rollins’ reply. I knew Rich didn't know anything about massaging the tumblers. Chalk up another skill to Rollins. One day, I would find something he couldn't do, but it would
n't be this day.
Everything clicked into place a minute later. “I’m in.” I drew my pistol again.
“Need a few seconds.”
“I can pick a lock faster than you?” I said. “I’ll take it.”
“Everyone has to be good at something,” he said. “I think I got it. Let’s go in three . . . two . . . one.”
I turned the knob and pushed the door open. A woman walked from the stairs into the kitchen. She wore jeans and a hoodie and managed to make it look good. Her hair and complexion reminded me of Arash, and her dark eyes widened when she saw me. She didn’t turn around. I put my left index finger over my lips. She stared at me, giving no indication she saw or understood my gesture. Rich and Rollins possessed enough sense to stop and do a couple of mean statue impressions. The woman whispered, “Did Eddie send you?”
“We’re here for Iris.”
“We?” She half-turned, saw my two companions, and took a step toward me.
“What’s your name?” I said, hoping to keep her calm and focused on me.
“Sarah.” She was barely audible, and her eyes threatened to pop out of her head.
“You’re named after Abraham’s wife.” She offered a tentative nod. “Are you Arash’s sister?” Another head bob. “Iris’ parents are worried sick about her. We’re here to take her home.” She didn’t say anything. “Sarah, I don’t think you’re a kidnapper.”
“I’m just trying to help my brother.”
“I get it. I wish your brother were doing this the right way, but he’s not. The Jeep yours?”
“Yes,” she said. “I drove us all here.”
“Drive yourself out of here, then,” I said. Sarah stood rooted in place. “You have your keys on you?”
“Yes.”
I jerked my head toward the back door. “Go. Walk outside, give us a couple minutes, leave the carseat, and then drive away. Don’t call anyone.”
Sarah pivoted to Rich, who gestured toward the back door. She fished a set of keys from her pocket, shook her arms into a jacket, and scampered out the rear. I walked toward the stairs. No one on the second level gave any indication they’d heard our exchange. The sounds from a TV made their way down to us. “We ready?” I said, looking between Rich and Rollins.
“Let’s go,” Rich said, and we ascended the steps.
The stairs didn’t betray Rollins or me with any squeaks or cracks. As we stepped onto the second level, the sound of the TV came from ahead of us. A door stood slightly ajar. Rollins checked the room behind us and emerged shaking his head. We crept onward. From inside the room, someone called, “Sarah, are you ever coming back?”
I nudged the door open with the muzzle of my .45. Arash was the first to see me. Recognition and horror crossed his face at the same time. He and one other man sat on the bed with another in a chair and Iris in a small crib. Rollins entered behind me when I moved to the side. I trained my gun on Arash. Rollins covered both of the other two. “I don’t think she is, Arash,” I said.
Three sets of dark eyes glared at us. Iris lay quiet, probably asleep, amid this den of kidnappers. The guy in the chair held a revolver in his hand. So far, he possessed the good sense not to raise it. “How did you find us?” Arash said.
“You should’ve taken your laptop.”
He closed his eyes and blew out a long breath. “You want the girl?”
“We do.”
“And if we give her to you?” the fellow on the bed said. I didn’t recognize him, but he was built like the enforcers Eddie kept around.
“Then, you get to go to jail quietly.”
He scoffed. “What if we don’t?”
“Then, you go to the morgue quietly,” Rollins said.
“Just two of you.”
“You can count,” I said. “Impressive. There’s only two of you, too. Arash doesn’t count.” He opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “Shut up, Arash. If you cowered from a couple of drunks in a bar, you’re not finding your spine now.”
“Raise your gun one more inch,” Rollins said, “and you’re dead.”
The guy in the chair cast his eyes between us. He’d lifted the revolver an inch or two. I hadn’t even noticed. “Why don’t you throw it away?” I suggested. His eyes narrowed as he sized me up. He did the same to Rollins, then held the revolver at arm’s length and tossed it into the far corner of the room. “Good decision. Rich, call the sheriff’s office.”
“I’m on it,” his reply came into my earpiece.
Rollins kept his gun trained on the trio. They all glowered at us. The guy who could do math frowned as he realized we brought a third. I checked on Iris. She lay on her back in the small crib, her eyes closed and her breathing steady. I felt absurdly unqualified to care for a child, even for a limited time. Hopefully, Sarah left us the carseat.
The .45 grew heavy in my hand, but I didn’t want to lower it. The two guys with Arash might find some courage if I did. Then, Rollins would shoot them both, and I’d prefer it if no one died before we left. Despite the growing pain in my arm, I kept the gun trained on Arash and his friend on the bed.
A minute later, sirens pierced the night.
Rich’s deputy friend, a woman named Hendricks, arrived a few minutes later along with four of her closest uniformed friends. Arash and his hired help got herded into police cars. Hendricks and another deputy stayed and posed some questions to our group. First among these, of course, was why we didn’t call for support as soon as we went in.
“It was a fluid situation,” Rich said. “We didn’t want to do anything to tip them off or put the baby in danger.”
I found his explanation acceptable. It took a few follow-up inquiries, but the deputies eventually did, too. Because of Rich’s official status, they allowed us to leave with Iris, who was awake and unhappy to be surrounded by so many people she didn’t know. Sarah left the child seat as promised, and Rollins set it up in the second row of his truck. I raided the fridge inside and found a full baby bottle and a gallon of milk. I grabbed the former.
Rollins fired up the obnoxious pickup, which rumbled in the woods much like a fleet of chainsaws. Neither Rich nor I wanted to sit with a fussy baby. We played rock, paper, scissors, which I won, and then won again when Rich insisted on best-two-of-three. “You’re much more paternal than I am,” I said in mock consolation. Rich’s sour expression told me what he thought of this sentiment.
We piled into the truck, and Rollins took off for Baltimore. Once we were out of the camping community, I called Calvin. Despite the late hour, he picked up right away. “You know where Iris is?”
“I do,” I said. “She’s sitting in the back of the pickup I’m riding in.” I considered adding a barb about Rich here but thought better of it. Thirty years old, and I was already getting soft.
“Oh, thank God,” Calvin said. He fell silent, and it took a few seconds for me to realize he was crying. It was understandable given the events of the last couple days. I gave him the time and space he needed to compose himself. After a minute, he came back on the line. “Are you bringing her here?”
“I’d rather take her to a hospital to get checked out. Even though she wasn’t gone long, we don’t know how well they took care of her.” For her part, Iris cried in the rear seat. Rich removed the bottle from a cupholder and gave it to her. She put the nipple into her mouth and quieted down. “You have a preference for where she goes?”
“We’re on the Hopkins network.”
“All right,” I said, “we’ll take her there.”
Calvin gave me the name of Iris’ pediatrician, and we hung up. I searched for any Hopkins-run urgent care or similar facilities, but none were nearby, and any we could drive to would be closed by the time we arrived. “Guess we’re going downtown,” Rollins said. He glanced at his rearview mirror. “How you making out back there, Dad?”
“Fine,” Rich said. He flicked his eyes to me. “How’d you beat me at rock, paper, scissors?”
“I can’t divulge all my
secrets,” I said.
“Tell me. I want to know.”
I shrugged. “All right. I figured you’d go scissors the first time. Most people, for whatever reason, consider it the safe middle choice. Once I beat you with rock, I guessed you’d go paper the second time.”
“You play a lot?”
“No. It’s a game about people, though. It’s not random.”
“I’m glad I could be so predictable,” Rich grumbled.
“Me, too.” I grinned at him, and he smirked in spite of his mood.
When we got to Hopkins, Rich and his badge handled the check-in and explanation. The on-duty nurse in pediatrics, a redhead who looked like she brooked no foolishness, told us Iris’ doctor wasn’t in, but a pediatrician working would give her a complete checkup. We took seats in the waiting room. Thankfully, it was empty. I doubted many people in tactical gear plopped down in their chairs.
A few minutes later, Calvin and Tamika arrived. The first time I met Tamika came under trying circumstances. Tonight, she was pleasant, though obviously amped up to see her daughter. The bruises on her face were healing nicely. After a moment to make sure everyone was acquainted, Tamika wrapped me in a tight embrace. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she whispered.
“It was our pleasure.” I inclined my head toward the entrance to the pediatrics wing. “Go see your daughter.”
They both bolted through the door.
By the time I arrived home, the clock was ready to strike midnight. Gloria must have departed for the comforts of her own bed, so I had the run of the place. I capitalized by enjoying a snack of tortilla chips and guacamole and then going to bed. We millennial detectives lead very exciting lives.
I checked my phone and saw Gloria texted earlier when we were at the hospital. She drove by, saw I wasn’t home, figured I was off rescuing a baby, and went to crash at her own place. I sent a reply telling her I was home after a long evening, Iris was safe and sound, and I was going to sleep. Then, I did.