Chapter 19
The moon shined bright before a cloud floated over it, taking its cheer. Cole knew the feeling. A little happiness seeps into your life, and the universe threatens to take it. He rammed his hands through his hair. The weight of the world weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Never in his life had he wanted to bash someone’s skull in like he did the Caffeine Junkie’s. The inept idiot agent, who not only didn’t protect Dina but from his disappearance at the scene evidently got himself kidnapped, ran a close second.
“What the hell?” Vince said into the disposable phone he just bought inside the convenience store.
Long nerve-shattering hours had passed since Dina went missing. Cole’s nerves ricocheted against his skin so hard, he thought they’d hop out and take flight. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, waiting for the outcome of Vince’s call to Detective Ward. He hoped the leap of faith Vince had in a man that clearly detested him was advantageous.
Before Vince placed the call, he told Cole Ward had a soft spot for Dina and would do anything to help her. He hoped Vince was right and the call didn’t put them in a world of shit with the authorities.
“All right.” Vince scribbled something on a notepad he’d snatched out of the car’s cubby hole from underneath the radio, uncovering a keychain and knife. “Anything else?”
Cole grabbed the knife, pushed the button for the blade to pop out, and examined the shiny metal. He’d never been fond of using a knife as a weapon, too messy, but it was better than nothing.
After a long moment, Vince disconnected the call and studied him. “The cops have you on the suspects list. They want you to come in and answer a few questions.”
Did Cole have a bull’s-eye in the center of his forehead? He pinned Vince with a glare. “That’s bullshit!”
Vince rested his arm on the interior panel and lifted a couple fingers. “Not arguing. I told Ward I’d get you there if he filled me in on what was happening with Dina. He hemmed and hawed a bit before relenting.”
Vince’s gaze shifted to the knife in Cole’s hand. He snapped it shut and shoved it in his pocket. “And?”
“And, the Caffeine Junkie killed a police officer on a traffic stop. The camera in the officer’s cruiser picked up the license plate number of the red truck and captured a dent in the front fender. The same information we received from the parking lot attendant.”
“What about Dina?” Dual responses coursed through Cole. Hope that she was safe inside the truck’s cab and anxiety that she was still in trouble. “Did they get a visual?”
“From the video angle”—Vince said, on a harsh exhale—“they made out the top of a blonde’s head, but couldn’t identify the person.”
Alarm she was hurt hung around his neck like a slab of bricks, threatening to pull him under the water and suffocating him. “The Café Coffees’ sales associate said she heard gunfire.”
“Don’t go there,” Vince said. “Remember, no blood was found.”
Vince was right. Letting his concerns run rampant would only lead to needless worry and sabotage the little bit of ability he had left to concentrate. “What about the driver? Was it the person they dubbed the Caffeine Junkie?”
“Don’t know. The driver wore a Jack the Ripper mask.”
Cole rubbed a hand over his jaw and stared at the quiet streets. Someway, somehow, he had to come up with a scheme to find out where Dina was taken. The police giving the exact same information the parking lot attendant found on the tape from the video camera left no room for doubt the truck involved in the police shooting was the same one that drove off with Dina. But where? Where would the Jack the Ripper masked person hide?
Other women were taken from different areas around New York City. Were they stuck away right here in the city under everyone’s noses or driven to location outside the city? He didn’t understand nor did he want to comprehend the logic behind such cruel people, but if he had to guess, he’d say the girls were taken somewhere close to keep the police off track by doing the opposite of what was expected. “Does your phone have the internet?”
“I’m a step ahead of you,” Vince said, typing on the keyboard. “I’m searching for any information on the case.”
“I need previous victims’ locations.” Cole shoved open the door and remembered he was broke. “Got a ten?”
Vince sent him a you-gotta-be-kidding-me scowl and slapped a bill in Cole’s palm.
“Thanks.” He went into the store, bought a city map and a highlighter, and returned to the car. “I’ll mark the abduction locations and see if we can figure out a common denominator or a centralized location.”
“Speaking of which,” Vince said, a smug look crossing his face. “I found a human-trafficking article where trailers were used to transport people under police radar. So, if we find a red truck pulling a trailer, we’ll have to figure out a way to stop it.”
“That’s far-fetched.” Cole seriously doubted they could pull anyone over. He and Vince would have a better chance of following them and waiting for an opportunity to check out the trailer’s cargo.
“Maybe so, but stranger things have happened,” Vince said, typing on the screen.
“Yeah, like a tornado spiraling through Manhattan.” And Dina kidnapped during the middle of the afternoon. Cole didn’t say his thoughts out loud. No sense when speaking it would make him and Vince edgier. “Got a location?”
“Yeah.” Vince went through the list of areas where women were abducted. Each time, he waited for Cole to mark the area with a dot until the map showed six locations. With the exception of a few coffeehouses on side streets, the yellow dots made the perfect octagon. He grabbed Vince’s notepad and used it for a straight edge, drawing line segments from one dot to the other, using the center as the nucleus. “What’s there?”
Vince swiped two fingers over his cell’s screen, enlarging the map. Buildings, roads, and trees appear. He zoomed closer and read the names of the businesses.
Cole stared at the U-Haul location. “Nothing is ever that easy.”
“Nope, so maybe that’s why the location is so logical,” Vince said. “The abductor is probably counting on the authorities not looking at an area so obvious.”
“The police have to follow up on every lead.” He grabbed Vince’s pad again. Using the top line of the octagon, he drew a symmetrical octagon north of the locations where the girls were taken, then drew line segments from one of the octagon’s intersection to another until it looked like he’d done string art. “What’s there?” He pointed to the point intersected by each line.
Vince typed the keys on the phone’s screen and brought up another map. He zoomed in and held up the phone for Cole to see. “It’s a subdivision.”
Cole grabbed the phone from Vince, and expanded the picture to see the house and yard; an eerie sensation crawled over his skin. “I get a bad vibe from this place.”
“A business man banking on vibes?”
Cole lifted a shoulder. “Yeah.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Vince said. “Let’s check out both places.”
Cole twisted the key. The motor sputtered. The same thing it’d done when he first started the car. He turned the key again. The engine snarled before coming to life. “Finally!” He pulled out of the parking spot and turned onto the main road in the direction of the first nucleus-point on the map.
“I can run faster,” Vince said.
The lights on the dashboard dimmed. “Battery’s getting weak.” Cole pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The car didn’t respond. “Damn!”
“Pull over. I’ll check the battery cables. Maybe it’s a loose connection.”
From the storm’s turmoil, not many cars roamed the street, giving Cole his choice of parking. At the next streetlight, he veered the car to the curb, near a fire hydrant.
Vince climbed out of the car, leaving the door open, and popped the hood. A second later the interior lights brightened.
“That did it!”
“Loose battery connection,” Vince said, climbing into the seat and closing the passenger door. He brushed the dirt off his hands. “Let’s get our girl. The GPS has us turning right in two lights”
“Got it!” Cole pressed the gas pedal. This time the engine raced, the car moved. He stopped at the red light and impatiently watched a car pass in front of him in the southbound lane. Sitting idle didn’t bide well with him. He needed to act, and just like that his and Dina’s encounter this morning returned. He couldn’t wait for a do-over and finish what both of their bodies craved.
The light turned green. He pressed the gas pedal and the car jerked forward. The plan they’d come up with wasn’t very elaborate, but as he’d learn from orchestrating the different stages of revolutionary products sometimes the simplicity of an idea was the ticket to gaining the desired results.
“Watch out!” Vince yelled, bracing his hand on the dash.
Cole slammed on his brakes. The car skidded and stopped a second from an unmarked police car sideswiping him. “What the hell?”
“Calder. It was Agent Calder.” Vince’s words rushed out. “Follow him!”
Cole turned the key and received a click sound in return. Dead. “Son of a bitch!”
“Time to hoof it.” Vince’s calm, cool voice helped Cole harness his emotions and keep his temper in cheek.
How Vince thought they could keep up with a police car speeding on the practically empty New York streets beat him. He was in no shape to run that fast or that long. “We can’t keep—”
“Holy shit,” Vince rasped staring down the side street the agent just flew down.
A truck sped toward them, a trailer followed swinging side to side. “This isn’t good.”
“Understatement, buddy. Look!”
Cole did a quick scan of the street in front of him. He and Vince sat in a broken-down junker, possessing a ring side seat, about to witness one hell of an accident.
The truck drew closer to the intersection. Alarm rang through Cole as the color of the truck and its dented front fender became visible. He swung his hand out to his side, hitting Vince’s arm. “It’s the truck!” Cole climbed out of the car, peered over the roof at Vince.
A car drove toward them.
Vince let out a harsh groan. “Calder’s executing a rolling road block.”
Cole’s gaze locked on the trailer and knew who was inside. Watching helpless as to what was about to happen to Dina sent white hot terror down his throat, knotting his gut, and threatened to rip his heart out of his chest.