She's an Easy Target, page 7
part #2 of Quinton Target Series
The sound of a mobile phone ringing startled her. She looked at what appeared to be a lighted rectangle suspended in midair. Upon further evaluation, she concluded the phone was resting on the table the gargoyle had used to display his torture tools. After ringing several times, the phone went to voicemail. Blaire listened to herself instructing the caller to leave a message.
The familiar voice said, “Blaire, this is QT. Call me if you can. If you’re unable to answer, don’t lose hope. I’ll find you. I love you.”
She cried at the sound of his voice and felt an overwhelming sense of loss. Even if he did find her, things would never be the same between them. How could he ever love a hideous looking person like her?
After feeling sorry for herself for a while longer, she contemplated the reasons why the kidnapper would leave her mobile phone with her. The most likely scenario was that he had turned off the GPS during her interrogation and now, for whatever reason, he wanted her to be found, so he turned it back on. As she thought back, he had said he expected her to be found within the next three days.
What were his motives for letting her go? His last words as he departed were, I’ll be in touch. For what purpose? He’d said he’d have more questions, wanted ransom money from her father, and wanted sexual favors from her. She didn’t have to worry about the last one anymore. No man would desire her now, not even a monster like him. What made him think she’d live up to any of her promises once she was free? What else could he do to her that was worse than what he’d already done?
A disturbing thought occurred to her. What if he wanted QT to come looking for her, so he could ambush him when he arrived? He had threatened QT during the interrogation. Even though she had no future with QT, she didn’t want him harmed.
There were no windows or air circulation in the building. The perspiration was dripping off her. When it warmed during the daylight hours, it was going to be unbearably hot. She doubted she’d last three days without water. She might not last more than one.
There was no way for her to know whether there were any houses in close proximity. She tried to scream, “Help me,” but the words came out like a scratchy murmur. Her throat was so dry she could barely swallow.
In her thoughts, she cursed herself for having a strong will to live. If she made it out alive, what kind of existence would she have? She’d become a recluse, never going anywhere people could see her. She’d no longer be able to perform in her current NSA position. Maybe she could get permission to work at home where she’d be able to use a computer in anonymity, without ever meeting face-to-face with anyone. Her relationship with QT would be destroyed. He was a good person. He’d try to make her feel like her looks didn’t matter to him, but she knew better. If he wouldn’t leave her, she’d have to leave him. A relationship based on pity couldn’t last.
The thing was, she didn’t consider herself a vane person. It was true she used her attractiveness to her advantage but what was wrong with that? You use whatever talents or assets you’re blessed with by God. Her beauty came naturally to her. She didn’t waste her life primping in front of a mirror or seeking special enhancement treatments. She knew her good looks wouldn’t last forever. Gradually, she’d grow older and her beauty would fade, but she’d have time to adjust. She’d pictured herself as eventually becoming one those distinguished-looking older women like her mom.
Her thoughts were interrupted by men arguing outside. There was a pause followed by what sounded like two muffled gunshots. The garage door rattled, like it would if someone was about to open it. Had the monster changed his mind? A part of her hoped he was returning to put her out of her misery. After a few minutes had passed, she heard a car drive close to the garage door. It stopped and idled.
Blaire wanted to stay awake, but the weight of the day’s events along with the stifling heat and stagnant air consumed her last bit of fight. Her head dropped forward, and she fell fast asleep. She dreamed of being with QT. He was kissing her, first on one cheek and then the other. As they made love, he looked at her face and said, “You’re so beautiful. Don’t ever change. I love you just the way you are.”
In the darkness, a tear slid down her face.
Chapter 12
The first call QT made after Rasputin left was to FBI Special Agent Clinton McCoy, his superior at the Charlottesville FBI office.
“It’s after midnight. This better be important,” McCoy said.
“Sorry for calling so late, boss. I need your assistance on a jurisdiction ruling.”
“Go ahead and give me the facts.”
“Blaire went out at ten tonight to do a local job for the NSA. I don’t know the details, but I assume the NSA had prior court approval for whatever she was doing.”
“The NSA plays by the rules most of the time. It’s better to have an FBI Agent involved for a domestic action but it isn’t always legally required. It’s decided on a case by case basis when the judge approves the warrant.”
“I understand; however, the legality of the NSA operation isn’t what I’m calling you about. Sometime during or after the operation, Blaire was kidnapped.”
“Did the kidnapper contact you with demands?”
“No, a reliable informant of mine witnessed her being drugged and taken.”
“Where did the abduction take place?”
“Near the UVA campus, not far from Rugby Road.”
“Have you tried calling her?”
“Yes, several times. Her smartphone goes to voicemail. We have an app that allows us to track each other’s location. Blaire turns it off when she’s on a job. It was deactivated until five minutes ago.”
“Where does the GPS say the phone is located?”
“Crozet.”
“What’s your jurisdiction question?”
“I’m going to Crozet to look for her. Do you want to contact the Charlottesville Police Chief or the Albemarle County Sheriff to let them know what’s going on?”
“This is a federal agent who’s been kidnapped. It’s clearly FBI jurisdiction. We don’t need to contact local police unless you require their assistance.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say, but I wanted to make sure. I don’t need their help. In fact, I don’t want to risk having the locals putting Blaire’s life in danger by showing up with lights flashing and sirens blaring.”
“Do you need FBI backup? I can contact Agent Parker and have him meet you out there.”
“Let me get a better idea of what’s going on before we bring in anyone else from the agency. I’ll call you from Crozet after I assess the situation.”
“OK, if that’s the way you want to play it. Don’t hesitate to call me back if you need help.”
“Will do, boss.”
“You might want to call Blaire’s supervisor to find out if the NSA is aware of what happened. Maybe they’ll be able to give you some insight into the assignment she was on tonight.”
“I’ll track her supervisor down, but I doubt he’ll be open with me.”
“First priority is Blaire’s safe return; however, whether you find Blaire in Crozet or not, the FBI will take the lead to find out the reason for the kidnapping and apprehend those responsible.”
“Yes, sir.”
“In the morning, I’ll inform Colonel Smithers, the Charlottesville JUIAF Commander, we’re taking the lead on the case. She’ll want some involvement since Blaire works out of the JUIAF offices.”
“She won’t be pleased, but it’s better she hears it from you. We didn’t exactly hit it off during the Jeremy Glover murder investigation. She wasn’t forthcoming, and I wasn’t very patient with her.”
“I’ll need to notify the Richmond FBI office in the morning, too. They’ll want to track our progress.”
“Will they have a problem with me leading the investigation, since Blaire and I live together?”
“I’ll take care of the politics. You go find Blaire.”
***
Quinton was anxious to go to Crozet, but he decided it was worth a few minutes of his time to contact Blaire’s supervisor as McCoy had suggested. He didn’t have the man’s contact information — but he knew somebody who probably did. He selected the name from his contact list and dialed.
In a groggy voice, a female answered, “This is Daphne O’Connor.”
“Good morning, Daphne. This is Quinton Target.”
“Quinton? Technically, it may be morning, but my body says it’s nighttime. If you’re drunk and looking for a hookup, forget it. We don’t have that kind of relationship. Besides, I’m too tired.”
QT was surprised by Daphne’s playful demeanor. She’d been assigned as the DIA liaison for the Jeremy Glover murder case and she’d been strictly business when they’d worked together. Waking her out of a sound sleep likely had something to do with her playful disposition.
“I’m sure it would be delightful to hook up with you, but that’s not why I called,” he said.
“What’s going on?” she said in a more serious and alert tone.
“I need a favor.”
“If I recall correctly, the last time we were together you told me that you owed me a favor, not the other way around.”
“You’re right. Now I’ll owe you two favors.”
“I’m listening.”
“Do you have the mobile phone number for Lucas Taylor?”
“The new Charlottesville NSA boss?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
“He’s a slime ball. The way he looks at me is enough to make my skin crawl. What do you want with him at this hour?”
“He’s Blaire’s supervisor. She was on an NSA job in Charlottesville tonight and was kidnapped. I need to find out what, if anything, he knows about it.”
“That woman can’t stay out of trouble, can she?”
“I’ve got a lead on her location, but I need to talk with Taylor before following up on it.”
“The way he looks at Blaire is even creepier than the way he looks at me. He’s obsessed with her. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the one who kidnapped her.”
“If he is, will you do me another favor and help me kill him.”
“Sure. I’ll throw that favor in for free. All kidding aside, there’s something a bit off with that man.”
“I agree. I had a brief encounter with him earlier this evening.”
“I’ll message you his number after we hang up.”
“Perfect. And, don’t be alarmed if Colonel Smithers assigns you as the JUIAF liaison with the FBI for the kidnapping investigation.”
“Oh, goody. Can I go back to sleep now?”
“Good night.”
“You finally figured out it’s night not morning, huh? Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, during daylight hours.”
***
When QT keyed in Lucas’ number, he recognized the leading 301 as the area code for the NSA headquarters in Fort Meade, MD. Lucas must have retained his old number when he moved to Charlottesville.
The man answered with a snippy attitude, “Taylor here. Who is this and how’d you get my number?”
“This is FBI Agent Quinton Target. I’m the guy who almost shot you at the downtown mall when you shined your laser pointer at my girlfriend’s breasts.”
“That was an unfortunate misunderstanding. You ask Blaire. We cleared it up.”
“I would ask Blaire, if I could. It’s after one-thirty in the morning and she hasn’t returned home yet. She told me she’d be home by midnight. You wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?”
“She was on an NSA assignment tonight,” he said, unconcerned.
“What was the job and where did it take place?”
“That’s confidential.”
“Can you at least tell me whether she completed the task.”
Lucas hesitated for a moment and then said, “I received confirmation from Blaire at eleven-fifteen that she’d successfully completed the job.”
“That was over two hours ago. Do you know where she went after that?”
“No. After her assignment was done, she was on personal time. As I understand it, she has a proclivity for promiscuity. Perhaps she went to a bar, picked up a guy, and went home with him.”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
“We don’t encourage sexual relationships outside the NSA because it increases the risk of sensitive information being revealed. But we can’t totally control our employees sex lives. When we have someone like Blaire, who is — how should I put this delicately, someone who is hypersexual — we have to manage the risk of security leaks by utilizing our polygraph technology.”
“Are you saying that Blaire’s polygraphs revealed she goes to bars and picks up men for one-night stands?”
“I couldn’t possibly reveal the results of our employees’ confidential polygraphs. I’m just saying that based on Blaire’s profile, my observation is that after work tonight, it’s possible she went looking for the comfort of a man.”
“Or maybe in your sick little mind, you fantasized she’d visit you and to make sure she did, you took her by force.”
“She’s not with me and she’s not with you, so it’s a mystery who she’s with. I’m sure she’ll turn up in the morning and tell you where’s she’s been. It’ll be up to you to decide whether she’s telling the truth. Of course, we’ll ask her about it at her next polygraph, but I won’t be able to share those results with you.”
“I’m hanging up now, but I’ll be at the JUIAF very soon to talk with you face-to-face. Count on it.”
“Be sure to make an appointment in advance with my secretary. I’m a busy man. I can’t waste time talking with jealous boyfriends.”
***
Quinton was livid after his conversation with Lucas Taylor. He knew he should discount everything the little weasel had said, but he was finding it difficult to let it go. He knew Blaire hadn’t gone to a bar to pick up a guy tonight. She’d been taken by force. But, in the back of his mind, he had some lingering doubts about her faithfulness. There were other nights when she was gone until early morning and couldn’t tell him where she’d been. Was Taylor being truthful when he implied that Blaire’s polygraph indicated she was promiscuous? Their love life had certainly been lackluster in recent months.
He couldn’t waste any additional time dwelling on it. The important thing right now was to find Blaire and bring her safely home. There’d be plenty of time to sort out their personal issues and talk about how they really felt about each other — later. He was good at finding reasons to procrastinate talking about feelings.
Ironically, his next call was to the woman whom he had seriously considered being unfaithful with earlier in the evening.
She must’ve recognized his phone number because she answered, “Hello, QT. Rasputin said you were going to contact me. What’s the latest on Blaire’s disappearance?”
“I’ve located her phone. It’s in Crozet. How would you like to take a ride out there with me to check it out? According to Rasputin there were two kidnappers. I could use backup.”
“Are you the only FBI agent in Charlottesville?”
“No, but I want to limit involvement by others within the intelligence community until I have a better idea of what’s going on.”
“How about if I bring Rasputin along, too. He’s a good guy to have around when things get dicey.”
“Do you still own a gun?”
“Yes, I have my military pistol.”
“Bring it with you. And, tell Rasputin to bring a gun, too.”
“I don’t have a car.”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“Rasputin and I will be waiting.”
“Is Dr. Bit at home or is he spending the night with Chloe?”
“He’s here. There was a break-in at his house tonight.”
“Put him on the phone, please.”
After a short pause, Dr. Bit came on the phone and said, “How can I assist you?”
“I need access to the Crozet Self Storage facility. Can you bypass their security system, so I can enter one of the storage units? If not, I’ll have to track down a manager in the middle of the night to meet me there to let me inside.”
“I can do better than bypass the security system. I have a master access card to the gate and all the units. It’s programmed to work twenty-four by seven, so it’ll work even though normal customer access closes at 9 p.m.”
“Great ... I don’t even want to know how you obtained it or what you use if for.”
“Yes, it’s best that you don’t know. But, don’t worry, I’m not stealing anything out of other people’s units.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Anything else you need?”
“No, that’ll do it. Tell the lieutenant I’ll pick up Rasputin and her in about ten minutes.”
Chapter 13
Quinton parked in front of Dr. Bit’s house and left the engine running. He looked through the passenger’s window and saw lights turned on inside the house. In less than a minute, the door creaked open and two people emerged onto the porch.
QT smiled when he noticed the lieutenant was wearing army green shorts, a camouflage shirt with lieutenant insignias, and a UVA baseball cap. It was the outfit she’d always worn at their coffee shop rendezvous. She still had captivating bluish green eyes and shoulder length auburn hair, but she looked cleaner and more at ease with herself than when they’d first met. During the past year, she’d made great strides finding her way back from her paranoid, near-vagabond existence to once again become the beautiful and intelligent woman she always was underneath.
Rasputin was wearing washed-out jeans and a plain blue T-shirt with a single pocket. He was toting a rifle with a scope. His attire matched his personality, which was free-spirited, uncomplicated, comfortable with himself, and ready for action.
QT unlocked the car doors using the master switch on the driver side. The lieutenant sat in the front and Rasputin slid into the back. Quinton put on his directional signal and looked in his side mirror before pulling out. As he started to move, he noticed somebody in the house across the street, looking out the window.
