Gone Too Far (Devlin & Falco), page 29
“If you continue down this path, I fear I won’t be able to protect you. I’ve done all I can.”
A new rush of outrage detonated inside her. “This time, I’d rather take care of myself.”
Then she was gone. Devlin and Falco needed her.
She stared one last time at her father before squealing tires as she peeled away from the curb.
She would have the truth. If it was the last thing she did.
41
8:45 a.m.
Birmingport Road
Birmingham
Tori peeked out the crack left by the partially open door. She couldn’t see Alice. Couldn’t hear her either. But she couldn’t have gone far. There was nothing out here but woods and these old warehouses.
And the maintenance shed, according to the sign on the door, where Alice had left Tori.
She glanced around the room. At least there were lights. There were big electrical boxes and all sorts of tools and a commercial-size riding mower.
Tori glanced out once more. She should make a run for it. She should have refused to get out of the car when they’d first arrived.
But she’d been afraid. What if she’d done that and Sarah really was in trouble?
Alice had told Tori to wait here and she would bring Sarah to her. Tori waited.
What she needed to do now was find a weapon to protect herself.
A thump had Tori spinning around.
The hum of whatever mechanical things were running was the only sound.
“Alice?” she dared to whisper.
What if Alice had just brought her here to play a trick on her?
Or to kill her. She’d probably try to make it look like Tori had killed herself. Then they could all blame Brendal’s death on her.
“Alice!” Anger burned inside Tori. She wasn’t getting away with this.
Fear abruptly coiled around Tori’s chest. What if it was Sarah and she was injured? Or someone else?
“Sarah?”
More thumping and what sounded like rustling.
Tori listened, focused on pinpointing where exactly the sounds were coming from.
The rustling and thumping increased. The door of a tall locker-like cabinet moved. Tori held her breath and eased toward the locker. Her heart thudded harder and harder, rising in her throat as if it might pop like an overinflated balloon.
She touched the door. It moved.
Tori jumped back.
The next sound she heard was a moan-like scream. As if someone were trying to scream with their mouth full . . .
“Sarah?” Tori grabbed for the door again. She tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. The sounds on the other side grew more frantic.
She tugged harder at the latch. Then she realized she needed to push down the latch and slide it sideways.
The locking mechanism released.
The door sprang open.
A bundle fell out onto the floor.
Long blonde hair. Pink tee. Jeans.
The smell of urine and feces.
Tori blinked and stared at the sobbing girl.
Not Sarah.
Blonde girl, around Tori’s age. She’d wet and soiled herself. There was a cloth stuffed into her mouth. Her hands were tied behind her back. She lay on her side, whimpering and rocking.
Emotions spinning inside her, Tori stared at her. Why didn’t she stand up?
Then Tori spotted the reason. Her hands were tied to her ankles. Knees bent. She was tied up like one of those calves in rodeos.
“I’ll get you loose.” Tori knelt beside her. The girl was sobbing now. The ropes were made of nylon and tied really tight. “I need scissors or a knife.”
Tori shot to her feet and searched the shed. She didn’t find scissors, but she did find a large metal tool that looked kind of like scissors. She thought she had seen a neighbor trimming bushes with something like this.
Might work.
Tori rushed back to the girl. “Hold still.”
It took some maneuvering to get the rope between the cutting blades without hurting the girl. Finally when the tool was in place, she squeezed the handles together. Nothing happened. She squeezed harder, gritted her teeth.
What if this didn’t work?
Alice could be back any moment.
The rope snapped. Tori set the tool aside and pulled as much of the rope away as possible. She needed to cut one more section. The one around her ankles.
With her hands free, the girl reached for her face and pulled at the cloth in her mouth. Tori snapped the rope holding her ankles together.
The girl scrambled away.
Tori placed the tool back on the floor. She glanced at the door. Hoped Alice didn’t walk in for a few more minutes.
“Who tied you up here?”
The girl’s eyes were wild as if she’d turned feral.
“What’s your name?” Tori asked.
She stared at Tori. It was at that moment Tori recognized her.
Violet Redmond. The missing student from Walker Academy. Her face was all over the news and the internet.
“Oh my God. Are you okay, Violet?”
“Help me,” the girl whispered, her voice rusty.
Realization of the situation flashed in her brain. Tori rushed to Violet, grabbed her hand. “We have to get out of here.”
They moved to the door. Violet stumbled a couple of times. Probably from being cramped up in that cabinet for two days. Tori eased the door open enough to check outside. She didn’t see Alice or anyone else.
“Come on.” Holding Violet’s hand tightly in hers, Tori led the way from the shed toward the road. The driver had turned off Birmingport Road and driven down a fairly long drive that ended at these warehouses. If they could make it to the main road, they might be able to flag down a car.
“What’re you doing?”
Tori froze. Violet started to sob.
Alice.
Tori turned around, ushered Violet behind her. “We’re leaving,” she announced.
Alice smiled. She waved the big knife in her hand. “No you’re not. You two are my only loose ends. I have to take care of you. If you run, I’ll just have my grandfather send his soldiers to kill you.”
Was the threat more of Alice’s tales about being a princess? Tori reached behind her, grabbed Violet by the arm, and pulled her closer. She whispered over her shoulder. “Run to the road. I’ll stall her, and then I’ll run in the other direction. Don’t stop running until you find help.”
Violet whimpered.
“Run,” Tori growled.
Violet tore away.
Alice started after her.
Tori rushed toward Alice. Threw her full body weight against her shoulder.
They slammed down onto the asphalt.
42
9:00 a.m.
Cortez Residence
Eleventh Avenue South
Birmingham
Kerri had called the LT. He’d issued an endangered child alert and sent Sykes and Peterson to the Cortez residence.
Kerri couldn’t help remembering how he’d put her off about issuing an alert when Amelia was missing. But Tori was younger than Amelia had been at the time. Still, Kerri was fairly certain the LT remembered making that decision.
Pushing the thoughts away, Kerri centered her attention back on the woman who refused to answer her or the other detectives’ questions. She’d finally begun to talk when Falco had threatened to arrest her.
“My husband went looking for Alice as soon as he realized she was missing. He hasn’t returned or called, so I am sure he is still looking and contacting her friends’ parents.”
“Funny,” Kerri said, her voice tight, “he hasn’t checked with me.”
The woman picked up her cell phone from the coffee table and called her husband again.
Falco held up his hands in a let’s-take-it-down-a-notch manner. “She’s talking,” he said in an aside to Kerri. “Let’s be grateful for that.”
Kerri bit her lips together. It was difficult to be grateful at the moment. She had called Tori’s cell phone repeatedly, but it just kept going to voice mail. She should have put that tracking app on her daughter’s phone, but she’d never worried that she would need it. Tori never got into trouble . . . she was a good kid. Trustworthy.
Jesus Christ, she needed her little girl to be okay.
Sykes sidled up next to Kerri. “Peterson is giving Foster a call to have him put the school’s weekend guards on alert. It’s possible they may have gone there. We’ve also got people watching the hospital where the Talley girl is.”
Kerri nodded. “Thanks.” She should have thought of those moves herself.
Goddamn it.
She’d called Diana and Jen and had them checking with everyone they knew. The twins were surfing social media. Robby was driving around the neighborhood.
And Kerri was standing here doing nothing with no idea where to go next.
The door opened, and Peterson swaggered back inside. On his heels was Sadie Cross.
She walked straight to Kerri and looked her dead in the eyes. “If you can clear the room, I’d like to talk to Mrs. Cortez alone.”
Kerri looked from Sykes, who was watching the two of them, to Falco. “We need to step outside a moment.”
Falco gave her a nod and executed an about-face and strode straight to the door. Sykes and Peterson shared a look and did the same. When the door had closed behind the men, Kerri nodded to Sadie and walked out.
“Whatever happens in there,” Peterson warned, “is on you, Devlin.”
Falco backhanded him on the shoulder. “Shut the fuck up, Peterson.”
Sykes swallowed hard, the movement visible along his throat. “He’s right. Shut up, Peterson.”
A minute ticked by. Then another. Kerri felt ready to explode. The sound of sobbing seeped past the front door, and Kerri wasn’t sure she could take it.
The door suddenly opened, and Sadie exited the house. Cora Cortez lingered in the open doorway. Other than being shaken, she looked unharmed.
Relief trickled inside Kerri. “What did she tell you?”
“She thinks they went to the warehouse where her husband works. He called her right before you came and said he was going there next.”
“Let’s go,” Kerri urged.
“What’d you do, Cross?” Sykes demanded as the whole group headed for the street. “Threaten her life. Jesus.”
Cross glared at him. “I just told her that I knew who she and her husband really are and that I would use that information if she didn’t cooperate.”
Sykes watched Sadie round the yellow VW. “Who the hell are they?” he demanded.
Sadie didn’t answer. She climbed into her vehicle and drove away.
Kerri and Falco loaded into his Charger and did the same.
Kerri’s cell vibrated. Dispatch appeared on the screen. “Devlin.”
“Detective Devlin, I’m patching a Junior Ridley through to you. He’s an Uber driver who says he has information about the alert on Tori.”
Kerri’s heart thumped as she thanked the dispatcher and waited for the call to be connected.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Ridley, this is Detective Kerri Devlin.”
Ridley explained that he had picked up two girls. One girl kept referring to the other one as Tori. He described the two girls and how that by the time he reached the drop-off point, he felt as if something wasn’t quite right.
“Where was the drop-off point?”
He gave the address and the time of the drop. Kerri thanked him and ended the call.
“What the woman told Cross was right,” she told Falco. He glanced at her. “An Uber driver dropped Alice and Tori off at the warehouses an hour ago.”
Falco floored the accelerator.
Kerri didn’t have to say the rest.
A lot could happen in an hour.
43
9:50 a.m.
Taylor Warehouses
Birmingport Road
Birmingham
As they reached the end of the long drive, Kerri spotted a dark sedan and the black SUV in the parking lot already.
The Escalade Kerri recognized. It belonged to Cortez.
“Who the hell is that?” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
“Looks like the mayor’s car.”
Kerri scowled. Falco was right. The license plate read: WARREN1. “Why would the mayor be here?” She thought again of the mayor’s personal involvement in this case and the similarities between her early years and those of Alice Cortez. Was she attempting to save this girl Alice or save face?
The idea that there was more nudged at Kerri.
The Charger had scarcely stopped moving, and she was climbing out. She all but ran toward the maintenance building, where a door stood open. Falco caught up with her by the time she reached the entrance.
Kerri drew up short as Mayor Emma Warren emerged, Cortez right behind her.
“Where is Tori?” Kerri demanded.
Warren stalled for a single moment. “Tori? Excuse me, Detective . . . ? Why are you here?”
“That’s a good question,” Falco said, “for you, Mayor.”
She blinked once, twice. “I’m here with Mr. Cortez.”
Cortez stared but kept his mouth shut.
“He believes Alice has run away from home, and since she is the student I’m personally mentoring, I felt compelled to assist him. She’s been very upset since the Myers tragedy.”
Falco glanced around the parking area. “Where’s your driver? Your security?”
Warren’s perfectly polished facade cracked just a little, showed a flash of frustration. “Again, why are you two here?”
Sykes’s car rolled into the lot. Cross followed in the yellow Beetle.
“My daughter, Tori, is missing,” Kerri said. “She was last seen with Alice Cortez. An Uber driver brought them here.”
Cortez said something in Spanish to Warren. She ignored him, but recognition registered in her eyes. She understood.
“Let’s get out of this doorway,” Warren suggested, stepping forward and forcing Kerri and Falco to back away.
Determined to get inside, Kerri walked around the obstacle the two made and entered the maintenance shed.
Warren called out something about a warrant, but Kerri ignored her. She didn’t bother explaining that they had exigent circumstances. Warren was an attorney; she knew this.
Nylon ropes and a wrinkled cloth lay on the floor. Judging by the short strips of nylon rope, someone had been bound with it. Fury knotted in Kerri’s gut. She stormed back out just in time to see Sykes and Peterson marching toward the first of the three warehouses.
Cortez hustled after them, shouting about the need for a warrant. At the door, Sykes paused long enough to say, “Exigent circumstances, my friend. A child is missing, and this was her last known location.”
Grateful tears welled in Kerri’s eyes. She had to find her daughter. She started toward the second of the three warehouses. Warren ordered Falco to call the chief of police.
Cortez rushed back to the mayor, speaking in Spanish to her once more. This time Warren responded in kind. Her tone was far from the mesmerizing, sophisticated one she generally used. Instead it verged on feral and was filled with warning, the cadence clipped. As her volume and the intensity of her voice rose, the words obviously grew increasingly threatening.
Sadie Cross moved up beside Falco, her head canted as if she were deciphering the exchange between Cortez and Warren. Considering her past undercover work, she probably was. She no doubt had an excellent command of the language they were using.
Kerri told herself to move, to hurry into the waiting warehouse . . . Tori was here somewhere, but something—call it intuition—held her frozen in place. She couldn’t stop staring at the woman she’d watched charm the city with her benevolence and brilliance . . . the one she had admired so much.
Warren abruptly stopped speaking. She stared at Sadie.
“I know your voice,” Sadie said, her tone accusing.
Her expression icy cold, Warren demanded, “And who are you?”
Cortez ran for his SUV.
“You were part of Carlos Osorio’s organization. You were the one . . .”—Sadie took a step toward the mayor—“the one who gave the orders.”
Falco, his phone clutched to his ear, fell silent.
“Are you insane?” Warren demanded; she glanced around. “Who is this woman?”
“You’re the one,” Sadie said, her voice dark with rage. “The one Walsh was looking for. The power—here—who supports the cartel.” She nodded. “Just now”—she pointed a finger at the other woman—“when you snapped orders at your minion . . . not the cultured, smooth voice you use to hide behind. This voice . . . this is the real you.”
A scream echoed in the morning air, reverberating from the woods and between the buildings until the sound pierced Kerri’s very soul. “Tori!” Her heart flailed helplessly in her chest.
Kerri bolted toward the woods, in the direction of the sound.
By the time she reached the tree line, Falco was racing ahead of her. Kerri shouted her daughter’s name. A responding cry of “Mom” rang out.
Kerri ran faster, her pulse pounding in time with her frantic pace.
The roar of the river in the distance seemed to muffle all else. Blood roaring in her ears, Kerri paused to listen for anything else from her daughter.
Where was she?
Please, please, please let her be okay.
“This way!”
Kerri jerked toward the sound of Falco’s voice. He lunged deeper into the woods, straight for the river.
The underbrush slapped at her legs, but Kerri didn’t slow. She darted between and around trees. “Tori!”
“Mom!”
Kerri’s brain instantly analyzed her daughter’s voice. Terror. Extreme agitation.
Was she okay? Kerri spotted her then. Ten . . . fifteen yards ahead. Her daughter stood among the waist-deep underbrush, her face pale, her body shaking like a leaf fluttering in an icy wind.
Falco reached Tori first.
He dropped to his knees, and the fear already strangling Kerri tightened like a vise. Was Tori injured? Kerri couldn’t see any blood. She lunged faster through the brush.
