Ghostly Game, page 35
“Carver is parked across from the junkyard where they abandoned the car used to kidnap Rory. It was stolen and the license plate muddied so it was unreadable. Forensics isn’t there yet, are they?” he asked Wilson.
“No, but the description of the car is out. We sent out the photograph that was captured on the camera across the street from the bar. It was blurry. We received a call from the worker at the junkyard saying they think they have the car there. It’s possible Carver got wind of the call. If he gets out of his car, let me know. I’ll have officers there immediately to guard the car, and forensics will be all over it.”
Gideon wasn’t certain how Wilson thought he was supposed to keep Carver from getting to the vehicle in the junkyard while they waited for officers to show up to stop him from touching it.
The hawk screamed in three hoarse cries. “He’s opening his door and starting across the street,” Gideon warned. “I’d send the officers and forensic team now. Get it out over the radio. Let everyone know they’re on the way.”
Gideon sent a large flock of gulls into the air straight at Carver. They were big birds with dark heads and long snouts with hooks at the ends of their bills. The shrieking cries came first and then ominous shadows blotting out light, casting patterns of moving wings, feathers and menacing macabre shapes darting down toward the street, blocking Carver from the junkyard.
The cop ducked down, covering his head with his hands, running back toward his vehicle to take shelter. The gulls landed on the roof of his car. The hood. The trunk. They pecked at the windows, trying to break the glass to get at him.
Looks a bit like a scene from a horror movie, Gideon. You might want to tone it down, Rhianna recommended. She had followed Carver in her car but kept at a distance.
I got the idea from a movie—well, the trailer, Gideon admitted. I never saw the movie. I didn’t want to have nightmares.
You’re such a baby, Rhianna said. Carver is starting up his car. Your gulls did the trick.
“Carver is leaving, Wilson. Your forensic people can check the car.”
“Thanks,” Wilson said.
“Let me know when one of your people has Carver in sight.” Not that Gideon’s team would break off. They were going to make absolutely certain that every one of the monsters who had committed these crimes was arrested.
Rory’s clothes and the hood had also been examined, all hair and fibers taken from them. The report she’d given about the notebook had been followed up on. Janice had shoved the tote bag in the lounge cupboard. The notebook had contained the damning evidence Detective Peter Ramsey had uncovered, including where he had hidden audiotapes he had recorded of Detectives Westlake and Carver and two retired detectives—Bill Morris and Jerome Michigan—conspiring to murder key members of a criminal organization and then murder Jarrod Flawson, Dustin Bartlet and Ret Barnes—three of the four heads of that organization. Next, they would frame Harvey Matters and kill him, then take over their organization.
Westlake had gone to the apartments with Ramsey that afternoon. Something must have made him suspicious, and he’d shot Ramsey. Once Westlake shot Ramsey, he knew he had to kill him and get any evidence he might have on him.
Gideon was certain it was Westlake who had been the one to really torture Rory. He was a sadistic man. He was certain Westlake had been the one to torture and kill Dustin Bartlet, as well as Ret Carnes and Jarrod Flawson. It was no wonder he’d been under investigation for so long. The other detectives had been careful, trying to find a way to make the charges stick.
Westlake was intelligent. What no one had realized at first was that he had partners. After they began to suspect Leo Carver might be in league with him, it hadn’t occurred to them that anyone else from the department might be involved. There was nothing to point in that direction. There was no way of knowing that Westlake had managed to recruit two retired and disillusioned cops until they had Ramsey’s notebook.
* * *
The small flock of sparrows sat in the apple tree in the backyard of Bill Morris’s home, watching him with their beady eyes. Judging. Morris wanted to throw something at them. Take out his gun and shoot them, one by one, right out of the tree. He had the feeling they knew what he’d done. He hadn’t been able to sleep, and for the last two nights, he’d sat at the kitchen table with his service revolver in his lap.
The grill was hot, and he opened the lid. His wife, Deana, sat in a chair by the pool, talking to Jerome Michigan’s wife, Nikki.
Deana looked up and smiled at him. “Babe, you want a beer?”
She never failed to ask him if he wanted something. She’d always been that way throughout their marriage. The way she looked at him—that never failed to move him. He never wanted her to look at him any differently.
“I’m good, Deana.”
He could never give her children. He could never give her anything that she deserved. She’d always wanted to travel, but he’d always been working, and they really didn’t have the money. She didn’t shop or buy things. She gardened. She wasn’t someone who wanted jewels or fancy clothes. She didn’t care about cars. She didn’t complain. He’d told her when he retired that they could travel, but that hadn’t worked out the way he wanted. His investments had done poorly, and her multiple sclerosis had gotten a firm foothold. She didn’t say one word about how he’d invested their money. She just told him she loved their home and was happy being in it with him.
His phone vibrated over and over. He took it out and glanced down. Westlake. Always Westlake and his demands. Each request was worse than the last. It was bad enough that Westlake had insisted on kidnapping the Chappel woman, but he had tortured her. He wanted them all to torture her. When Morris had refused to participate in hitting her, Westlake had become so incensed, he took out a knife and began slicing her up. Morris had been sick after that. He knew once he left, he wouldn’t go back.
“You get the message from Westlake? He wants us to meet him at the apartments. We have to snatch another one of those women. One of them has the notebook.” Jerome came up behind him. “We don’t have any other choice. Ramsey had to have given it to one of them.”
Gideon was able to pick up the conversation through the number of birds facing the two men.
“That’s what he said about Chappel. He was positive she had it, and she had no idea what he was talking about. Did you see what he did to her? I couldn’t get him to stop. He went insane, Jerome. Was that okay with you? Is that who you are?”
“Better her dead than us.”
Morris shook his head. “I can’t even look Deana in the eye. You want to help him, you go, but I’m not going near him.”
“He’ll kill you.”
“Let him. I was dead the minute he started torturing that poor woman.”
Jerome swore at him. “We’ve been friends a hell of a long time, Bill. You’d better not throw me under the bus.” He turned toward the two women. “Nikki, I have to go into town. You stay right here with Deana and Bill until I get back.” He didn’t wait for his wife to reply; he just hurried around the house to his truck.
How the hell did they miss the notebook in the trunk of Rory’s car? Mack asked.
When Larrsen questioned her, Janice said the tote had been thrown into a corner of the parking garage after someone ripped it with a knife. They must have seen the junk mail and then thrown it. The mail fell everywhere when the tote was thrown, and the notebook landed in the corner in the dark, Gideon told Mack.
“Wilson, I think if you go visit Bill Morris personally right now, he’ll either turn witness for you or commit suicide before you get a chance to talk to him,” Gideon advised. “He didn’t want to go along with what they did to Rory. They’re apparently setting up to try to get one of the other women right now.”
I’ll volunteer to be Lydia or Sally, Rose said. You know I can change my image.
I can be one of the other women, Jaimie added.
I’ll be one, Rhianna said. It shouldn’t take me long to get there.
“Three of my team have volunteered to disguise themselves as the women these men will try to kidnap, Wilson,” Mack said into the radio. “They are highly trained.”
“Too big a risk,” Wilson said.
“To your suspects?” Mack countered.
Wilson didn’t reply, but Gideon heard the three women share laughter with the team members. It was a risk to the suspects. Rose and Rhianna were every bit as lethal as the men, and Jaimie was as well, given the right circumstances. They weren’t very happy that Westlake, Carver and Michigan had tortured Rory and left her to die.
Half the flock of sparrows lifted from the apple tree, taking to the air, following Michigan as he made his way toward the apartments. Like Carver, he took a circular route, twice changing directions, clearly checking to see if anyone was following him. He never once thought to look to the sky.
“We’ve got Westlake in sight. He’s pulling into the garage,” Larrsen said. “Visitor parking. Used his police ID to get right in the front. He’s sitting in his car, but he’s nervous. He’s looking around and spending lots of time on his phone.”
“Stay back, Larrsen,” Wilson cautioned. “I don’t want him to spot you.”
“He won’t.” There was complete confidence in Larrsen’s voice.
Gideon didn’t blame him. Javier had shown him a couple of places to conceal himself that gave him a good view of the front of the building and visitor parking.
Gideon felt movement behind him and knew immediately his woman had joined him on the rooftop. “What are you doing? You had strict orders to stay put.”
Rory moved slowly, but she came up beside him. I’m feeling better. I’m getting stiff just being in bed. I’d rather be up here with you.
“Did you ask Paul first?”
She made a face at him. I’m not three, Gideon. I wouldn’t take a chance on messing up anything he worked so hard to repair, especially once I knew there was a risk to him. He told me to not speak aloud yet, but I can be up here with you. Just not to overdo it.
“Climbing stairs might be overdoing it, Red. Sit right here next to me.” Gideon patted the wide bench next to where he stood. “Are you warm enough?”
The truth was, he preferred having her close to him. He’d been with her nearly every moment since they’d found her in the warehouse, and he was uncomfortable leaving her alone, even though he could reach out to touch her telepathically.
Rory sank onto the bench and leaned against his hip. She had a new inhaler, one Paul had prescribed for her. It seemed to work better, but Gideon wanted Rory to be strong enough for Paul to be able to do the psychic surgery on her lungs. Paul didn’t think she was ready yet.
“Leo Carver just pulled into the parking lot,” Larrsen reported. “He appears to be very agitated. He’s gotten out of his vehicle and into Westlake’s.”
What does Detective Larrsen plan to do once all of them show up there at the apartments? The women aren’t there. Won’t that tip Westlake off that they’ve been placed in a safe house? He’ll know Lydia and I aren’t working. By now, he must know I’m not dead, right? Hasn’t the word gotten out?
“Not yet, but it’s going to very soon.”
Gideon felt Rory’s frown in his mind, and he used the pad of his thumb to rub at her lips. “Sweetheart, part of the plan is to keep them off-balance. They need to find out you’re alive. They’ll know forensics has the car, the place you were tortured, your clothes and the hood they covered your face with. And the notebook. The noose is closing around their necks.”
Which will make them desperate. Desperate men do crazy things. There was worry in her voice.
“We’re going to be watching over Larrsen, Red.” He read her concern.
Larrsen is Lydia’s choice. And he’s a good man. You said so yourself. I think Westlake will do everything he can to kill him.
“I think you’re right. Wilson thinks he’s going to make an arrest. I doubt if Westlake is going to go quietly,” Gideon agreed.
Larrsen’s voice interrupted. “Jerome Michigan just pulled up. Carver and Westlake are checking their weapons. They mean business. Wait until they come back out before we confront them. We don’t want them taking hostages.”
Can one of your team disable their vehicles while they’re inside? Would Wilson agree to let you do that? She sent the question to Mack on the common team pathway.
“Wilson, I can have a member of my team get in there fast and disable the cars. Need your okay. We’re already working with you,” Mack reminded him.
Wilson didn’t hesitate. “That’s a go.”
“Sending you in, Rhianna. You’re good with cars. Get it done. You’re already there, right behind Carver.”
The cameras up inside? Mack asked. I want to see and hear the reaction when they realize the women are gone.
In place. Javier installed them. Take a look at your screens, Mack. You can see the three of them walking in like they own the place, Gideon said.
Rory pulled out her phone and Gideon took it from her to AirDrop the program onto it so she could see what the other team members could. Westlake, Michigan and Carver strode straight to the lounge as if expecting to find the women there. They halted abruptly when they found it empty.
“Where’s Morris?” Westlake demanded, glaring at Michigan.
“He couldn’t leave. Deana’s sick. You know she has MS. Nikki’s with them. I told her to stay there until I get back.”
“Nikki could have stayed alone with Deana,” Westlake snapped. “She doesn’t need Bill there.” He stabbed at his phone ferociously, punching in numbers. Evidently, no one answered, which only added to his ire. He jammed the phone into his pocket. “Let’s visit Lydia and her little brat. One of them has that notebook. We’ll get it one way or another. We should have grabbed her first.”
Rory circled Gideon’s thigh with her arm. Thank you for making sure my friends are safe, Gideon. That man is a monster.
Gideon was well aware Westlake was evil. He’d been the one to carry Rory out of the warehouse to the car and pray to the universe that she stayed alive long enough to get her back to the house, where Paul could do surgery on her. If Paul hadn’t been in the car, Gideon doubted if Rory would have lived.
He would hurt Ellen to get Lydia to tell him what he wanted to know, but she doesn’t know anything. In the end, he would have killed them both.
Gideon rested his hand on top of her head, fingers automatically burrowing in the thick mass of hair. He’d indulged himself, washing and conditioning her hair the moment Paul had given him the go-ahead. Her dark cherry–colored hair fascinated him, and he knew she didn’t like the feel of it being dirty. He didn’t like the blood and dirt in it, reminding him he’d come so close to losing her.
“He won’t have the chance to get them,” Gideon said, indicating the screen on her phone.
They watched as the detectives went to Cindy’s door and knocked. No one answered. They called Lydia first, then Cindy. Neither woman answered. Janice’s and Pam’s phones went to voice mail. For the first time, Westlake looked uneasy.
“I don’t like this. Michigan, are you sure about Morris? He hasn’t been talking to anyone, has he? He was acting strange,” Westlake said.
Michigan hesitated. “He didn’t like the way you treated Chappel. He objected several times. He told you, John. You know how he is.”
“Would he sell us out?”
Wilson should send out the call to forensics to go to the warehouse, Gideon suggested to Mack.
Apparently, Wilson had the same idea, but he went a step further. He sent a forensic team to the warehouse but announced that Laurel Chappel had been found alive a couple of days earlier and was being held safe at an undisclosed location.
Westlake and the other two detectives froze as they received the news. Westlake burst into swearing. The three men hurried through the hall toward the front entrance.
“Morris had to have called in Chappel’s location,” he snapped as he yanked open the door leading outside. “No one could have found her. I’m going to kill him myself. But first I’ll do his wife right in front of him.”
“At least find out if he betrayed us first,” Michigan cautioned. “You snapped when Chappel didn’t answer and nearly beat her to death, but the rest of us thought she couldn’t breathe. If you’d just given her air, we might have gotten answers.”
Westlake stopped abruptly, swinging around to confront Michigan. “Maybe it was you, Michigan. As I recall, you didn’t think it was a good idea to take her in the first place.”
“I think maybe you’re putting too much cocaine up your nose,” Michigan fired back.
“We have to get out of here,” Carver said. “Not fight amongst ourselves. Let’s go. We can meet up somewhere else and discuss what to do.”
Westlake spat on the ground in front of Michigan’s shoes and burst into an unexpected sprint toward his vehicle. The others looked up to see the police emerging from every direction.
Wilson and Abbott stepped onto the asphalt from either side of the building. A ring of uniformed officers surrounded the lot. Larrsen walked straight toward Westlake.
Carver and Michigan both halted instantly. Westlake continued forward in a full run, his revolver out. Rhianna had finished disabling the vehicles and was sauntering out of the lot, looking as if she were a resident leaving the area, exiting via the sidewalk. At the last moment, Westlake switched directions, putting the front columns between him and the police. As he did, he fired his weapon and shot Rhianna in the calf to bring her down, clearly wanting a hostage.
