by David Archer
Angela hesitated, curious about why the conversation had gone in that direction.
"Uh, no," she answered. "The campus coffee shop is always full of noisy students, everybody trying to out shout everybody else. I go to one off-campus, closer to downtown."
"What’s it called?"
Angela shook her head for a second, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a loyalty card. She handed it to Jake and he looked at the logo. “Caffeine Alley,” he said. He turned back to his map. “Caffeine Alley,” he said. “That’s the same coffee shop Adrienne Moore always went to.” He turned back to Angela once again. "Did a lot of students go there to study?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say a lot,” Angela said. “There were always a few of us, though. Why?”
“Trying to figure something out,” Jake said. “Why would college students go out of the way to get to that particular place?"
Angela pointed at the card she had handed him. "Caffeine Alley gives you these loyalty cards, so every fifth cup is free. I think a lot of the students who go there might be on a tight budget. Getting one cup out of five for free means you’re saving twenty percent." She made a face that Jake took as meaning that it worked for her.
He turned to the map again. Zoe Castellanos was a hardworking student who suffered from depression, drank a lot of coffee, and was undoubtedly on a tight budget throughout the year. Caffeine Alley might have seemed like manna from heaven.
"You’ve been watching the news on this case,” Jake said. “Did you happen to recognize any of the victims from the coffee shop? I mean, did you ever see any of them there?”
"Yeah, I believe so," Angela answered. "The last one, I'm certain, and maybe one of the others.” Her eyes went wide. “You think maybe there’s a connection? Like, the killer is stalking people at my favorite coffee house?”
“I think it’s possible,” Jake said. He pointed at the photos of the victims on his whiteboard. “Look closely,” he said. “This is Zoe, the last victim, you said you saw her there. What about the other two?”
Angela squinted at the board and leaned close. A moment later, she pointed at the photo of Adrienne Moore.
Jacob nodded. The coffee shop was on her way to her son's school. She would have stopped there after whatever she was doing at the library, enjoyed some coffee while she used her computer and then grabbed the hot cocoa for the boy as she left.
Jake turned back to the map again, for a moment completely forgetting Angela even existed. He stuck a pin on the map where the coffee shop was located, then drew a circle around it.
“Damn,” he said. "Thank you, Angela. You may have just given us the break we needed!" He snatched out his phone and dialed a number quickly, then put it to his ear.
“Pete? It’s Jake. Listen, I'm out at the substation, and I got something. Are all of you at the office? Okay, I’ll be there shortly.” He put the phone back into his pocket, then threw open the door and started through it. At the last second, he stopped and looked back at the girl. “The room is yours if you want it!"
A second later, Angela was left staring as the door closed behind him. She knew he was supposed to be some kind of genius, but at the moment she thought he was just a bit on the crazy side.
While Jake had been working on his geographical analysis, the rest of them had been following up ideas of their own. Pete had gone back to the office with Carol, and was talking with Josie about what she had learned about the victims and any missing opioids from hospital or pharmacy inventories, while Chance, Tina and Carol had gone to the libraries to look for anyone who seemed to be watching the patrons. Gabriella had volunteered to pick up lunch and would meet them back at the office a little later. Everyone had agreed on pizza, so she called in the order and was told that the pizzeria was busy, so it would be almost an hour before they would be ready. Gabriella grinned; that meant she would have time to stop and pick up a cup of coffee, and she was definitely ready for it.
Or, at least, that had been the plan. Things didn’t always work out the way you expected, however.
Chapter 8
Gabriella woke up with a start, which immediately had her on alert because she didn't even remember falling asleep. Something had happened to her. Something bad. She just couldn't figure out what it was because her memory was playing some kind of trick on her.
She had been on the way to the office, she remembered that. She had stopped for a cup of coffee on her way to pick up lunch, and she was going to meet everyone back at the office so they could talk about the case they were working on, but…
But something had happened. She vaguely remembered something about another car, cutting her off. It was frustrating, but gradually the memories returned. She had been driving along on the old two lane road from Henderson into Las Vegas, and she remembered coming up on the big curve. Another car had come out of one of the cutoffs on the left, and it happened so quickly that she swerved to the right out of instinct. The front end of the minivan had gone into the ditch, and she had banged her head on the steering wheel.
She looked around and saw that she was in what looked like a bedroom of some kind, but it was certainly one she had never seen before. The room was simple, with bare wooden walls and floor and an old plaster ceiling above her head. There was a window on one wall, but it was covered by a thick curtain.
"I need to get out of here," Gabriella murmured, trying to move, but then she let out a curse when she realized she was tied to a chair. Her arms were strapped to the arms of the chair, and her ankles had been secured to its legs. She tried to yank herself free, but a wave of dizziness washed over her.
She'd been knocked around enough in her life to know a concussion when she had one, and she couldn’t fail to recognize it now. She frantically wracked her brain, desperately trying to remember what had happened and just how it had happened to her. She vaguely recalled someone pulling her out of her minivan after it hit the ditch, and it dawned on her that she had been abducted.
Gabriella swore again when she realized that she was naked—her captor had even gone so far as to remove her clothing, and a chill went down her spine. Somehow, she seemed to have been taken by the very suspect they were looking for.
Gabriella was intended to be the next victim.
She felt sick, and fought back a wave of nausea. It dawned on her that she had been drugged, and she could feel the stuff coursing through her system. There was a strange kind of sensation in the back of her throat, as if she was constantly trying to swallow even though her mouth was dry.
She shook her head and tried to see through the window, but the curtain was too thick. She thought she could just make out daylight coming through it, but that was all.
She tried once more to break the plastic strips that were keeping her bound, but jerking her head around was a bad idea. Her vision blurred and went dark as she lost her tenuous grip on consciousness.
She didn’t know how long she was out, but she woke slowly as her subconscious, which sounded a lot like her friend Carol, started yelling at her for falling asleep with a damned concussion. She shook her head and heard, somewhere up overhead, an old clock chiming the hour. She counted the chimes.
One, two… The sun was shining outside, so it was two o’clock in the afternoon, but that only told her that she had been out cold for a couple of hours. It had been almost noon when she had left the substation with everyone else, and she was supposed to bring lunch to the office for them all. Surely they would start to wonder where she was by now, right?
Looking around the room again, she spotted her purse laying on the floor near the door, but it might as well have been in China. She tried rocking the chair, but it was securely fastened down onto the floor, so there was no way she could get to it. She looked around again, trying to think of anything that might help, but there was nothing else on the floor, and in fact, there was nothing else in the room. She let out a growl of frustration and threw her head back, and that’s when she saw the old tools hanging above h
er.
Sometime in the past, somebody had used this room for a workshop. There were various tools hanging from the ceiling, and she simply hadn’t noticed them at first. The one that caught her eye was an old keyhole saw, but it was several feet away and just as useless as her purse. She squinted her eyes to try to see a little better in the dark shadows cast by the beams above her head, and then she saw one item that was hanging just over her head.
Her father had done a lot of woodworking when she was young, and she recognized a wood rasp when she saw it. It was a file, but designed to shave slivers of wood to help a craftsman shape the wood the way he wanted it. It was rough and had sharp points all over it, and she thought there was the slightest possibility she might be able to knock it down if she could stretch her head up just enough.
Standing up when your wrists are strapped to the arms of a chair is not easy, and it was quite painful. Add the dizziness she was feeling and it took three tries before she managed to rise to a half standing position, but the damn rasp was still a few inches over her head. She collapsed back into the chair and stared up at it, mentally cursing it for not cooperating. She shook her head again, and her long hair slapped her in the face.
Her hair. She forced herself back into the half standing position and then whipped her head forward as hard as she could, fighting off the dizziness and nausea that struck her. Her hair flew over the top and, sure enough, snagged in the rasp. She shook her head a couple of times and couldn’t believe her luck when the thing fell from the nail it was barely hanging on, dropping down in front of her face as she collapsed into the chair once again.
By leaning her head to the side, she managed to get the handle of the rasp to her left hand, and didn’t even mind the hairs that yanked out of her head when she pulled it away. Carefully, terrified of dropping the thing, she used her fingers to twist it around and began sawing at the plastic zip strip that held her wrist against the wooden chair arm.
It took almost a minute to grind away enough of the plastic to cut through it, but then her left hand was free. She got a better grip on the rasp and attacked the strip holding her right hand vigorously, and that one took only a few seconds. A minute later, after cutting through both of the strips holding her ankles, she was free.
She got to her feet and fought off another wave of dizziness, then carefully walked over to where her purse was sitting. She was praying for a miracle and suddenly believed that God answered prayers when she found her cell phone still in its pocket on the side of the bag.
Listening for any sign that someone else might be in the house, she turned it on, looked through her contacts and pressed the call button when she found Chance’s name. Holding the phone to her ear, she silently prayed that he would answer.
* * *
Pete’s stomach was growling. He stepped out of his office and looked around, but he didn't see Gabriella, who was supposed to be bringing lunch. Of course, she was probably just running a little late, which happened occasionally. He figured she might have run past home, since it was kind of on the way from the Southeast Area Substation.
Jake had arrived a half-hour earlier, but was waiting for everyone before revealing what he had learned. Other than Gabriella, the only other person Pete didn't immediately see was Chance, but that was because Chance was still out working on the case. He had spotted someone at the university library that seemed to be acting suspiciously, and had called to say he was going to keep his eye on the guy for a while. He was due to check in about any time, so Pete didn’t worry about it.
Carol stepped out of her own office and spotted him. "Pete," she said. "You look like a king watching over his kingdom. Everything okay?"
"Looks like everybody is pretty busy,” he said. “Any idea where Gabriella is? I'm starving, and I bet everybody else is, too.”
Carol shook her head as she faced him. "Nope. I haven’t heard from her, but don’t worry, you won’t starve to death."
"You sure about that?" Pete asked with a grin.
"I'm pretty sure,” Carol said, returning the grin. “I got a Snickers in my purse, if you really want it."
"I’ll wait,” Pete said. “She should be bringing pizza, and that just sounds good.”
"Of course it does," Carol said, and then she spotted Josie headed back to her office from the break room. "So, when are you and Josie going to pop one out of the oven? And don’t give me that look, you know she wants children.”
“What look? I didn’t give you any look. I know she wants to have kids, I just don’t know if I'm ready for that just yet.”
“Oh, come on, Pete,” Carol said. “Don’t be like that. Yes, you’ve had tragedies in your life in the past, but you’re starting over. Don’t be afraid to grab the brass ring.”
“Look who’s talking. You and Max thinking about little ones yet?”
She burst out laughing. “Me and Max? Pete, we’ve only been living together a month. I think I might want to give it a little more time before I start planning on having a family. Might even be nice to be married before that happens, or at least engaged."
Pete grinned at her. "You two definitely seemed to hit it off. How is Max doing?"
"He’s doing quite well, actually.” She paused as her cell phone signaled an incoming text message. “That’s odd. It’s Gabriella’s mother. She’s been trying to call her, but not getting an answer."
Pete furrowed a brow. "She didn’t stop by home, then?"
Carol nodded. "Apparently not,” she said. “It’s not like her to not answer her phone." She put the phone to her ear. “I'm trying her now.” She listened to the phone for couple of seconds, then looked anxiously at Pete.
"No answer?" Pete asked.
Carol shook her head. "No, it just went straight to her voicemail. That’s not like her, Pete."
Pete shrugged, but she could tell he was also a bit concerned. "It’s probably not anything serious,” he said. “Maybe she stopped to pick up diapers or something, and left her phone in the car."
"Gabriella has become like the sister I always wished I had, but I was never that lucky." Carol sighed once more. "Something about this is bothering me, Pete. I can’t help it, I just worry about her sometimes. She’s good at this kind of work, I admit that, but you and I both know that it takes a toll on you after a while. I don’t know if having her working for the company is really that good an idea."
Pete was about to say that he agreed when Carol's cell phone suddenly rang, and she glanced at the display a split second before hitting the speaker button.
"Gabriella?" Carol asked. "Where are you?"
Pete and Carol stared at one another when they heard Gabriella sniffling, like she was crying, but there was no answer at first.
Carol tried again. "Gabriella? Are you okay?"
"Yes, I think so," Gabriella whispered, “but I’ve been drugged. Carol, he’s got me. The killer, I was strapped to a chair…”
“Oh, my God,” Carol said. “Gabriella, where are you?”
"I don't know. I was run off the road, and—I tried to call Chance, but he isn’t answering… Oh, God, he’s coming.”
Pete and Carol listened in silence as Gabriella whimpered. A moment later, she cried, "No! No! No, please don’t!"
Gabriella’s voice lost volume as she held the phone away from herself, but they both heard the panic in her words. "Oh, God, please don’t! I have a family, I have children! No, please! I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll do anything, just please don’t shoot me!"
The line went dead instantly, and Carol stared into Pete’s face. He looked just as shocked as she did, and then both of them spun and hurried toward Josie’s office.
Josie had just started to wonder about Gabriella and the lack of lunch herself when her office door flew open and Pete and Carol burst through it. It took her only a second to realize something was wrong, and she spun her wheelchair to face them.
"What's the matter?" she asked. “Pete?”
“It’s Gabriella,” Pete s
aid. “Something’s happened to her, she just called…”
“She’s been kidnapped,” Carol gasped out, trying to catch her breath. “She—she…”
Josie look shocked for only a second, then reached up and took hold of Carol’s arms and looked into her eyes. "Carol," Josie said sharply. "Come on. What did she say?"
Before Carol could respond, Jake and Tina also came rushing into the office, both of them staring at Pete and Carol.
"What's happening?" Jake demanded. "I saw Carol get a phone call, then you guys suddenly took off running here."
Carol took a deep breath and slowly let it out as she looked around at the others. "I just got a call from Gabriella. She said she's been kidnapped, she's been drugged, and she thinks it’s the killer who took her."
Josie’s eyes flew open wide as Jake and Tina stared. “Say that again?”
Pete took over. "Gabriella just called and managed to tell us that she was hurt. She’d been run off the road and drugged, she thinks it’s the killer who has taken her. She didn't get any further than that because the bastard caught her on the phone and she panicked. We heard her begging for her life, gang. We have to do something, and we have to do it now."
"Wait,” Tina asked, “did either of you hear the kidnapper say anything through the phone?"
Carol shook her head. "No. All I heard was Gabriella begging for her life."
“Same here,” Pete said. “The only voice I heard was Gabriella’s.”
Pete's tone was dark as Jake laid a hand on his shoulder and turned to Josie.
"All of our calls get recorded,” he said. “Can you bring it up and play it in here, or trace it?"
Josie nodded, already spinning her wheelchair back to her desk so hard that her ponytail swished through the air. "Hell, yeah, I can do both."
A moment later, they heard the call playing through Josie’s computer speakers.
"Gabriella?" they heard Carol ask. "Where are you?” She paused, then said, “Gabriella? Are you okay?"