Chapter Twenty-Three
Waiting was no longer an option for Mike.
Bob Krok never called. That was the good news but the bad news was that Vince hadn’t called either. He endured a restless night, alternately pacing Rachel’s living room floor, then to the kitchen in a pattern twenty steps ahead of Pat.
“Your pacing’s driving me nuts, guys.” Jan shot a bleary-eyed glance to both men. “I’m just as worried about Cait as you are. And as frustrated. I’m sure Rachel feels the same way. But for Pete’s sake, wearing out the carpet’s not going to help anything.”
“It’s five-thirty, Mike. Why don’t we clean up and head into work? At least there, we can get something done while we’re biding our time.”
“I’d rather have the phone ring and have it be Vince,” Mike grumped and stared unblinking at the silent phone.
“We all want that call saying he’s found Caitlin,” Jan piped up as she cornered Pat doing a slower lap around the living room.
“Vince will find us at work when he has anything to report. You know that, Mike. Let’s believe no news is good news right now. And just sitting here’s driving me crazy.” Rachel’s husky voice delved into lower octaves with her exhaustion. “Besides, with Caitlin not in today, I’ll have to regroup, explain why too many times, to too many people.”
“And just what will you explain, Rachel? That some weirdo jerk’s abducted her?” Mike slammed a fist into his open palm. The sound jarred the quiet in the room.
“Not unless saying that would do some good, which it won’t. We should check with Vince to see what he wants us to say or not say. And I think, you should contact Keith.”
“What would we do without your levelheadedness, Rachel?” Mike felt equal parts sheepish and exhausted, frosted with a hefty portion of frustration.
“I’m not, really. I’d love to tear the guy apart with my own hands.” As she spoke, Rachel patted him on the shoulder and glanced at Jan and Pat. “Leave your numbers where I can reach you during the day, okay? I’ll make myself the information clearing house.”
“That works for me, Rachel,” Jan replied and wrote numbers on a slip of paper while Pat and Mike talked and gestured in a far corner of the room.
“I’m not going to work today. I’ll drive around looking for that truck. If I see anything, I’ll call Vince or Rachel,” Pat said, his tone daring anyone to object.
“I hate to disagree because I want to do the same, but you should go to work. This guy’s dangerous. You could get hurt and we don’t need another casualty or additional worry right now. If something happened to you on Caitlin’s account, she’d never forgive any of us.”
“I need to do something physical, Mike. This ‘sit and wait’ shit drives me nuts.”
“Hell, we all feel that way. I know I damn sure do, but—”
“We’re out of here, Pat.” Jan handed him his jacket. “You are going to work. I’m not worrying about Caitlin and you, too. I know you, sweetie, if you should be lucky enough to run across that monster truck and the guy who owns it, common sense wouldn’t overcome your anger and quick temper.”
Pat, trying to defend his plan, and Jan standing firm against it headed toward the doorway and departed into the rosy gray, half-light of early dawn. Mike closed the door after them, silently thanking Jan for her good sense. In this crisis, the women were more level-headed than the men. He prayed that fact held true for Caitlin, wherever she was and whatever circumstances she was enduring.
“Dear God, keep her safe,” he slipped a silent plea toward the ceiling as an image of that dismembered doll flitted behind his eyelids. That was not how he wanted her back. He fingered his stubbled chin. A quick shower, shave, then work. He headed for the guest bath. Running water in the master bath had ceased. Rachel must be finished and ready to go.
****
Ninety minutes and three cups of strong coffee later, Mike sat in Caitlin’s office chair. Fortunately, some constants held firm, like Rachel hadn’t lost the knack of brewing great coffee. The liquid sustained both of them, but what was sustaining Caitlin?
He grabbed a stapled set of papers covered with Caitlin’s small, almost illegible script. Her notes from the first negotiation session. Vince’s men had the originals. Nothing in the notes gave any suspicion to union involvement with her disappearance. Right now he was grasping at straws. At any clue about what happened to Caitlin or where she might be.
The phone dragged his attention away from the notes. He snagged it on the third ring and heard Maxine, returning his call. He explained Caitlin’s disappearance and asked for Keith’s number.
Maxine refused, her tone blunt. “I’ll have Keith call you about this if he wants to. He checks in with me once a day.”
“Cait’s disappearance after a lengthy negotiating session will grab his attention. Why the hell don’t you give me the damn number?” Grinding his teeth in frustration over the woman’s misguided loyalty, he understood Caitlin’s frustration with Maxine over the same situation. Was that just a few days ago? Was Caitlin still fighting? Don’t give up, Cait, please.
Her tone more snippy, Maxine paused before she spoke again. “He can’t help Caitlin where he is. He needs this vacation. If the police are involved, they’ll find her. Really, this whole situation is probably blown out of proportion. Who’s really got anything against her anyway? At least enough anger to want to harm her, that is. Perhaps she’s needing attention…”
“You’re more a fool than I thought.” Mike snarled, his fists balling and his shoulders hunching. “The police think Ivan Schwartz in shipping might be involved.” Did that slight intake of breath from the unflappable Maxine mean his words got to her?
“Ivan Schwartz from shipping? A really huge man?” Maxine’s voice hitched up a notch.
Was that fear in Maxine’s voice? Why? For whom? Caitlin or herself? “One and the same. He hasn’t reported for work. Yesterday or today. Has he threatened you? You sound nervous all of a sudden.”
“No, I’ve not been threatened and only know the name. I don’t know why. Maybe he was in to see Keith recently.”
“Interesting. The guy seemed pretty memorable to me.”
Maxine’s voice turned conciliatory. “Keith will likely call you today, Mike. And, of course, I’ll keep Caitlin in my thoughts. Will Kirby assume Caitlin’s responsibilities until she returns?”
“He’s not here to assume his own duties. He called Rachel a while ago and told her he’d be in late this morning. Has some civic meeting or something vague. I’m overseeing things here with Rachel’s help.”
“Fine, then. Keep me informed.” Detesting her officious manner, Mike depressed the disconnect button. Within a half hour, he had Caitlin’s department smoothly on track, a simple job with her organization and Rachel’s follow-through. He was leaving for his own office when Vince walked in.
A grim half-smile creased the police officer’s exhausted face. “It’s been a hell of a night.”
“You found her?” Mike returned to his chair.
Vince shook his head, sat down, rubbed his eyes, red-rimmed from lack of sleep. Unobtrusively, Rachel entered the room. A steaming mug of coffee and some Danish kringle in hand, she set them before Vince. He accepted and their gazes settled on each other. Vince reached out and touched her arm, almost a caress. He mouthed a ’thank you’.
“Any news?” Rachel’s voice begged for some hope.
“Lots of news, but no Caitlin.” Vince took a sip of the coffee. “Coffee’s great. Just what I need.” Then he motioned her to sit. She looked to Mike who nodded.
“About five-thirty this morning we found the truck, abandoned. Some tire prints for another vehicle were barely visible. The evidence crew is lifting those prints and checking them now.” Vince bit into the sweet pastry and sipped his coffee.
“And?” Both Mike and Rachel gripped the conference table’s edge.
“The truck had cocaine traces in it, plus a very unusual box-type carrier welded to its undercarriage. The techs found strands of reddish hair in the front passenger’s side, along with a small swatch of cloth, perhaps from a woman’s blouse.”
“What color?” Mike asked and sat more forward in his chair.
“A deep green.”
He remembered how gorgeous the green blouse looked on Caitlin. On that last ride to work.
“Ohh…” escaped from Rachel in a moan.
“Caitlin was wearing a green silk blouse yesterday, Vince.”
“Could be the same. We lifted some prints from that side of the truck. Different from Schwartz’s prints. They might turn out to be Caitlin’s.”
“Where did you find the truck? Do you think she’s in the same vicinity?” Rachel asked, her apprehension showing in her tone and on her face.
“Our drug unit found the truck, abandoned and not far from a drop-off point the drug unit has had under surveillance for several weeks. Seems they’ve seen that particular truck in the area before so they didn’t check it out carefully when they first noticed it. When no one took off in the truck like usual, they sent a patrol squad to investigate. By that time, the truck had been parked for several hours. We surmise Schwartz figured someone might have recognized his truck, so he dumped it. At this point, we have no idea what he’s driving or where he is.”
“No one saw any other cars or trucks?” Vince shook his head in answer to Mike’s question.
Mike swore, his cussing would have made those shipping guys blush. Caitlin’s safe return had seemed so close for a few moments. How was she holding up? How scared was she? She had to be frightened, but she’d overcome that—not give up hope. She couldn’t do that. With that monster having her—only death would follow.
Rachel reached over and covered his hand with hers. “Caitlin’s a fighter, Mike. She’ll fight to live.”
Vince sipped his coffee. “I learned this Ivan character and several others, including Kirby Metz, have been under surveillance for the past several weeks. The drug unit believes Northland has a major drug operation in place. They’ve been compiling evidence and putting pieces together, identifying major players, looking for connections to bigger fish, but not all the pieces are in place yet.”
“How did you find this out?” Mike asked, more worried than ever about Caitlin. If major drug lords were involved in this mess, well, he didn’t want to go there.
“We compared notes after the drug unit found Schwartz’s truck. Anyway after tailing Ivan for several weeks, they gave me a few places he might be hiding out. Places where they’ve seen him with other shady characters, allegedly carrying on drug transactions.”
“So why didn’t they arrest these characters?”
“Drug convictions are tricky, especially for the big guns. They need unquestionable evidence for a sure conviction. Or all their time and the taxpayer’s money have been wasted.”
“And what about Caitlin, Vince? Is she forgotten in this bigger issue now?” For the first time, Rachel spoke while pacing the small room.
“She’s not forgotten, Rachel, but now the question we ask is why was Caitlin abducted? What made her a focus of attention? She hired a private investigator and planted him undercover inside the factory. Did she mention anything to you about what she might have discovered?”
“She never told me. About anything. Just how did you know?” Anger painted deep tones in Mike’s voice.
“Caitlin told me, under duress, I admit. She said she wanted to know exactly what was going on inside this place, things didn’t add up. I understood Keith approved the project, but she wouldn’t even tell him the particulars about the guy. This P.I. wanted confidentiality. I thought, hoped, Caitlin had eventually confided in you, Mike. Since you seem so close.”
“Not a word.” Mike steamed inside. Damn it! She still held things back and didn’t trust him in work related issues. “You think the guy may have told Caitlin something she shouldn’t have known? Maybe sometime on Wednesday?”
“Maybe. Perhaps he didn’t even realize the significance, nor did she. If she let the information slip to the wrong person or people, well, that would be a motive.” Vince answered, measuring his words more carefully than a politician during a TV debate.
Mike grimaced. “Also a reason to get rid of the investigator.”
“Only if there’s reason for Ivan to believe Caitlin learned this information from someone else and didn’t just happen on to it on her own. And only if that was the motive for abducting her in the first place.”
Rachel asked. “You have no idea who this investigator is?”
“None, just that he’s male and would have started work here in the past few weeks. If we could find the guy, maybe he could give us some leads.”
“I could check the recent hires, but without a name, it’ll be tough.” Rachel’s voice spoke her dismay at finding what could be a needle in the computerized haystack of records.
“The guy’s about forty-five to fifty. He would seem pretty average to blend in. His real name is Hank Stoddard. Sometimes detectives keep at least one name or initial the same in undercover work. Can you check on it with those parameters?”
“Give me about an hour, Vince. Maybe less if I’m really lucky.” Rachel moved quietly from the tension-filled room.
“Okay Mike, here’s the rest. Vice has been watching Kirby Metz because of an alleged gambling network they’re pretty sure also runs out of Northland. When vice, the drug unit and I put our heads together last night, we kept coming back to Northland.”
“And if Northland is heavily involved, then how could that happen without someone high up being involved?”
“Right.”
“Someone higher than Kirby Metz, though he’d make a good front man and fall guy. So who might that be?”
A half-smile spread across Vince’s face. “Well, if you weren’t so new here, I’d consider you.”
Mike flushed, remembering their earlier talk when Vince mentioned Mike’s Georgia past. “So you eliminated me. That leaves…Keith Jantzen? No, he stands to lose too much.” But doubt tinged his words.
“A good guess, or even, I hate to say it, Caitlin. All this could be a ploy to throw people off. Or maybe her usefulness has come to an end.” Vince let his bombshell drop, sat back, and watched.
“Never. Impossible.” Mike glared at the detective.
“A good detective dismisses nothing, Mike. Sometimes the most implausible is the answer.”
“Then what about Rachel? Or for heaven’s sakes, that gorgon in the front office, Maxine?”
Now Vince’s voice rose. “Never. Rachel isn’t capable of something like this.”
“Neither is Caitlin.” The two men sat squared off like rutting elk, tension rippling their broad shoulders.
Finally, Vince broke the tension. “Let’s review facts here. Keith knew she was hiring a private detective. She also made quite an effort to speak to him earlier this week. What we need now are reasons and motive. Jantzen needs to gain a great deal if he’s involved.”
“Hate to burst your theory, Vince, but I can’t believe Jantzen’s that type. He’s worked his ass off to build this company. Invested himself and his family. He’d lose it all if he were part of what’s going on. He wouldn’t do that. That’s a gut reaction, but my gut’s usually right.”
“Well, we intend to investigate the possibility to find out. Maybe you can check records for other possibilities if you think you’re right.”
“I will and I’ll let you know. Jantzen will probably contact me today.”
“Tell him about Caitlin, gauge his reaction, but don’t say anything else,” Vince cautioned. “I hate having a nonprofessional doing a professional’s work. It increases the possibility of errors, or worse, fatalities.”
“I’m not stupid, but before you got here, I mentioned to Maxine that Ivan might be of interest.”
“Then tell him that too as she probably will. Maybe that fact will push him into action or making a mistake. If he’s involved.”
“I think you’re fingering the wrong man.”
“We’ll see.” A soft click at the door halted further discussion.
Rachel re-entered with a printout of names. She had narrowed the choices to two, one hired as an accountant. “The other’s a second shift sweeper. His name’s Hank Stokes.”
“Bingo,” Vince gloated, “that’s the one. I’m sure of it.”
“Here’s his file, Vince. He just called for Caitlin, left a number, but no name. Said it was urgent he speak with her.” Mike and Vince looked at each other at Rachel’s words. “He wouldn’t speak to anyone else or leave a message.”
“How do you know it was Stokes then?”
“The phone number on caller ID matches the one he has on file. You’re not the only detective in this group. What’s interesting is I’ve never seen or worked on this employment file. All the paperwork looks like Caitlin did it, even the computer entries, which is strange since that’s not something she does.”
Mike smiled, realizing exactly why Caitlin did that.
So did Vince as he wrote down an address. “She’s one methodical lady. Think I’ll pay a visit to Mr. Stokes. Check with you later,” Vince added the last as he hurried out of the office. Rachel followed him.
“Be sure you put everything back as you found it, Rachel, and shred that computer printout.” Mike ordered as he pulled together his materials to leave.
“I’m on it,” she acknowledged from the hallway.
“I’ll be up in my office for the rest of the morning. Call me there if you need me, or if something happens.” Mike looked around the makeshift office. Vince was so far off-base about Caitlin. She could never be involved in drugs or gambling. No one had been more straight arrow in college than her.
Are you all right, my love? Be brave, hang on, we’ll find you.
And whoever’s done this.
When they found her, he’d never let her go. Never again.