Abducted (22 page)

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Authors: Janice Cantore

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BOOK: Abducted
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37

AS CARLY WALKED BACK
to the plain car, her backpack in one hand and Nick’s shoulder holster in the other, she felt the excitement of an investigation coming to a close, of loose ends being tied up.
Surely when Mary Ellen learns that the man threatening her is on the run and his goons are in jail, she’ll surface.

At the trunk, she pondered the equipment she had available to her as she thought about what she should carry down into the catch basin. She had her gun and Nick’s, the cuffs they’d used on Casper and Gold Tooth, and her cell phone but no radio. Looking down at her small off-duty weapon and Nick’s 9mm, she decided that while she didn’t expect any trouble, she wanted to look official. She shortened the straps on the shoulder holster and slipped it on, then clipped her badge to a hook on the left strap. After locking her gun in the trunk, she turned as she heard Alex protesting the fact that DHS wanted to talk to him some more. He cast a glance her way as if asking for help, but she shrugged, then got in her car and left.

This time Carly made the turn to the catch basin without the drama of any other vehicles barreling her way. As the plain car bounced down the bumpy road, Carly’s mind wandered a bit. She found herself thinking about Nick and how normal things were between them. A smile played on her lips as she realized he’d stopped pushing her away and had instead become a partner of sorts over the last couple of days. With a sigh, she wondered how many stitches his head wound rated.

Once stopped at the gate, she pulled out her phone to call him and ask. His voice mail kicked in right away, and she knew he’d probably turned the phone off at the hospital. She left a message, telling him where she was and to call if he needed a ride from the hospital because she didn’t think she’d be long. Next she sent dispatch a message, informing them of her location as well.

Carly pulled Nick’s keys out of the ignition, knowing he’d have a gate key on his ring. All officers were issued an SM6 key, a master key for all city-owned padlocks in Las Playas. She fumbled for it as she climbed out of the car. Holding the key, she grabbed the lock, but it came open in her hand. It had been put through the chain and made to look secure but hadn’t actually been latched.

She frowned. No wonder the homeless got in so easily if public service didn’t bother to lock up. She unhooked the lock, pushed the gate open, and returned to the car. There were about five hundred more level feet, and then the road dropped to go down to a footpath that led under the bridge. She’d started down the hill before she saw the other car. It was a brand-new BMW with paper plates parked at the beginning of the footpath.

There was no dope to be scored down here. Besides that, it was broad daylight. Carly parked behind the BMW, got out of the car, and looked around. She didn’t see anyone, only a lot of tall weeds.
Maybe this car belongs to public service,
she thought.
A supervisor coming to check things out. That would explain the open gate.
Whoever owned the car had to be a city employee to get the lock open without cutting it.

Carly checked the car out but couldn’t see much because of the tinted windows. As she was about to continue past it, she heard the hum of a Chevy motor. A black-and-white pulled in behind her plain car.

Thinking it was a unit here for a DCC, she started back to greet the officers. But only one man got out of the car: Captain Garrison. Carly stopped between the BMW and her car and faced the scowling captain.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were at the church.”

Carly took a deep breath. If this had been Jake, the banter would have been friendly and upbeat. But she had no clue how to talk to Garrison other than “yes, sir” and “no, sir.” “I finished there. I came here to double-check for Mary Ellen.”

He seemed to consider this as he hitched up his gun belt. He rarely wore a duty belt. Carly could only remember seeing him with a belt holster.

He gestured toward the BMW. “Do you know whose car this is?”

She shook her head. “No plates.”

“It belongs to Thomas Caswell.”

Carly looked from the car to Garrison. “What is he doing here?”

“Good question.” He stepped closer. At six-four, he towered over Carly. “I know you don’t like me, and I have a problem with the fact that you have a tendency to disobey orders, but something is amiss with Caswell and I plan on finding out what.”

Carly thought she managed to keep her jaw from dropping. “Do we need backup?”

“No, I’ll handle this. I need to handle this. You just stay quiet and follow my orders; clear?”

Nodding, Carly said nothing. His tone made her angry, and she didn’t want to say something that would get her in trouble. All the negative things she’d heard about Garrison in the course of her career came roaring into her thoughts.
Pompous, not a leader, arrogant, self-serving . . .

When he moved past her to continue down the trail, she followed, praying he knew what he was doing, but more importantly for protection in case he didn’t.

The area under the bridge was clean as a whistle, as Pete had said. There wasn’t even much paper trash lying around. She knew there were some hiding places that would be dark in spite of the daylight, and she wished she’d brought a flashlight. Still, hearing nothing but the sound of traffic on the overpass above, she was inclined to believe no homeless had set up camp yet. Neither was it likely that Mary Ellen was here.

“It’s been years since I’ve been down here,” Garrison said, and Carly wondered if he was talking to her or himself.

They were almost to the other side of the bridge when she heard voices. The captain must have heard them as well because he stopped.

“He’s not alone,” Garrison whispered. He looked at Carly, and for the first time she could remember, his eyes were cop eyes—flat, appraising, alert, not a trace of arrogant condescension. “I’m going to take the direct approach. You circle around.” He gestured left. “I don’t know what we have here, but you be ready for anything.”

Carly bit her tongue and nodded, thinking he almost sounded like a partner but wanting to call for backup just the same. He turned away before she could bring it up. Garrison made noise as he pushed through the growth; it was mostly bamboo, thick and green, and the scraping of his large body moving through it was plain. She took advantage of the sound to split left quickly.

She could hear the voices but couldn’t make out what was being said. The brush all but swallowed her up, even though there was a path of sorts through the growth. As she crouched low and made her roundabout way to the voices, she understood why homeless and runaways and people hiding liked it in the catch basin. It was a way to escape prying eyes.

The direction of the path led farther down, into the flood control. Abruptly, the foliage ended and the path opened into a clear spot where another car was parked. She stopped and could only see the top of the roof. Looking right, Carly realized this car had come through the same gate she had, but the driver had continued on, probably driving part of the way on the concrete banks of the flood control since there didn’t appear to be any way through the brush. A gutsy person determined to hide.

Carly moved closer for a better view of the car, then stayed still. Now the voices of Caswell and another were clear. She listened and studied the car. It was a two-door compact, and both doors were open. Debris was all over the ground as if it had come from the car. There was a man halfway inside the car while the lawyer stood just outside. Garrison hadn’t yet made his presence known. Carly realized they probably hadn’t needed to worry about stealth—Caswell and his associate were involved in a heated argument and oblivious to what was going on around them.

“Where else would she hide it?” the somewhat-muffled voice of the man inside the car said.

“How should I know?” Caswell sounded petulant. “I’m not a mechanic! Get someone down here to take this piece of junk apart if you don’t know where to look.”

She heard the other man curse. “I’ve trusted too much to people who work for me lately.” He stood and smacked the car’s trunk hard enough to make Carly flinch. But he was facing the opposite direction, so she couldn’t see his face.

“That stupid girl must have it with her.” When he turned, Carly gasped. It was Conrad Sperry. His face was red, either from anger or exertion. He was a tall man shaped like a pear; four years ago, when she worked with him, Carly had wondered how he’d ever passed the physical agility portion of the reserve test. Obviously he hadn’t done any working out since she’d seen him last.

Carly dropped to one knee, holding her breath and hoping she wouldn’t be seen if the men looked her way.

“She’s not as stupid as you seem to think. She’s eluded capture this long.” Caswell’s tone was almost taunting.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sperry’s red face was nearly purple now.

“Just that I warned you about hiring Harper. And I suggested a safe-deposit box for your valuables.”

Carly saw Garrison step out of the brush, but Caswell’s back was to him.

“Speaking of the failings of people who work for me, if you’d gotten that thief out of jail, none of this would—” Sperry saw the captain.

Caswell turned, following Sperry’s startled expression.

“Norman, what on earth are you doing here?” The lawyer was clearly as surprised as Sperry.

“I could ask you the same question.” Garrison gestured toward the car. “That’s a wanted vehicle, and you two are destroying evidence.”

Carly’s gaze went back to the car. He was right—it was Harper’s car with the plates Mary Ellen had stolen. Fear grabbed her by the throat. Where was Mary Ellen?

Sperry’s hands went to his hips. “I’m looking for what’s mine.”

“Norman,” Caswell spoke, and his voice was soothing, the voice he used to convince juries to pity his clients. “It’s just a car. A car once owned by a dead thief. Surely you can overlook Conrad’s pursuit of his own property?”

“What property? The keys or the diamonds?”

She couldn’t see Caswell’s face, but the shock on Sperry’s shone like a beacon. He sputtered, “How . . . uh, who told you about the diamonds?”

Garrison cursed. “I’m not the fool you took me for. That’s right; I know you stole the diamonds, and I know he had your help, Thomas.”

“You’ll never prove that. Besides, what diamonds? No evidence, no crime.” Caswell’s tone was superior, and he spread his hands out.

“The girl will surface with the goods, and when both of you are in jail, I’m sure it will just be a matter of time before you’re ratting each other out. You both have made me look bad, and I’m done. Conrad, get away from the car. You’re coming with me. I think ICE has questions for you and Thomas.”

Carly’s hand was on her gun; she wondered why Garrison hadn’t drawn his if he was going to take these two into custody. But she hesitated to make her presence known unless Garrison gave her a sign.

“Hold on, Norm.” Sperry held both his hands up. “No harm, no foul. I didn’t find the keys or the diamonds. Surely we can talk about this.”

“Enough is enough. You two have played me, pretending to be friends, upstanding businessmen, the targets of baseless smears. It proves to me that I’ve been sitting on my butt behind a desk for too long that I even believed you for a second. Now, because of it, I’ll be sent to babysit old women in records.” Finally he drew his weapon and assumed a confident stance.

But Carly saw the flaw in the captain’s officer safety: he was in between Caswell and Sperry, so one or both of them could easily distract him. She unsnapped her own gun and tensed. Everything depended on whether or not the two men complied.

“You two are under arrest. We’re going back up to your car, Thomas.”

“Wait just a minute,” Caswell blustered. “You have absolutely no probable cause to arrest me.”

“You forget—the last time I was in patrol and made an arrest, we booked first and found a reason to make it stick later.” Garrison motioned with his gun. “Stand over with Thomas, Conrad.”

Carly saw the glance Sperry shot Caswell and she was moving. But everything happened so fast. Conrad started toward Caswell, crossing in front of Garrison. She leaped to her feet a split second too late. Sperry dropped his shoulder and rammed the captain.

The gun fired, Sperry screamed, and they went down in a heap with Caswell moving in. With a swift kick, he knocked Garrison’s gun from his hand, sending it flying toward the car, and landed a second kick to the captain’s head.

“That’s enough. Stop right there!” Carly pointed her 9mm as a shocked Caswell jerked around to face her.

Sperry was moaning, but she couldn’t see how badly he was hurt. Garrison brought a hand to the side of his head where he’d been kicked and seemed dazed. Carly kept her attention on the lawyer.

“I’ve got more than enough probable cause to arrest you now, Caswell. Step away from the captain.”

“What an odd pair you two make.” He stood up straight and looked from Garrison to Carly. “But I’m not going to jail.” His hand jerked from his pocket, and Carly saw the gun, pointed straight at Captain Garrison’s head. “You drop your gun or Norman is a dead man.”

38

“PLEASE, I NEED A DOCTOR,”
Sperry moaned, writhing in the dirt that Carly could now see was being stained red.

“Shut up, Conrad,” Caswell said, his eyes pinpoints of fury. “The gun,
now
, Officer Edwards.” He had a revolver—Carly guessed it was a .38—and cocked it.

Her pulse jumping, Carly made no move to comply, fighting to think of how to gain the advantage.

“Don’t do it,” Garrison said, sounding woozy from the kick to the head. “That’s an order.”

Bam!
Caswell fired a round into the dirt, right next to Garrison’s head. Carly jumped.

“Are we clear now? Throw your gun this way.”

Carly swallowed and fought panic. Giving in to panic would only cloud her thinking.

“All right, all right.” She held both hands up, then tossed her gun toward him. “But backup is on the way.”

Caswell smirked. “I won’t be long. Just one question before I end your life: Where is the girl? Norman was right about one thing—I want those diamonds. Thanks to the good captain, Conrad is out of the running for them.”

The gun was now pointed at her.

“I . . .” Carly saw a golf ball–size rock sail through the air and hit Caswell in the right temple.

“Ow!” he yelped, cringing. Carly lunged for her gun and toward the cover provided by the car.

Caswell fired, and she felt the sting of a bullet burn her thigh. She had the gun in her grasp and was behind the car as another bullet pinged the fender. Caswell was after her; he had moved from Garrison’s head and was focused completely on her.

As she turned to face the lawyer, another bullet zinged by. But Garrison was moving as well. Now behind the lawyer, he twisted and reached out with his long arms, grabbed Caswell’s leg, and jerked it out from under the man.

Caswell screamed. The gun flew from his hand as he tried to break his fall.

Carly jammed her gun into its holster and went for the attorney. She grabbed an arm in a control hold as he tried to push himself up from the dirt. Garrison moved to sit across Caswell’s legs and keep him down.

Glad she’d thought to bring the handcuffs, she pulled out a pair and prepared to apply them when Garrison caught her eye.

Clearly enjoying the fact that he had the struggling, cursing lawyer restrained, he smiled and held out his hand. “Please, allow me.”

• • •

Once Caswell was cuffed and seated against the car’s rear wheel, Carly secured Caswell’s gun, then checked Sperry while Garrison radioed for help. Sperry had been hit in the midsection and was going into shock, but there was nothing Carly could do for him but keep him still until medics came.

She had to suppress a smile as she listened to Garrison on the radio because she heard the unspoken question in the dispatcher’s voice at the captain calling for help from the field. Captains worked behind a desk; they didn’t roll around in the dirt with bad guys.

“Are you okay, Captain?” she asked after he told her that help was on the way.

“Only my dignity is bruised.” He looked her in the eye, and Carly saw none of the rancor that had framed their relationship for years. “Thank you, Officer Edwards. You came through at precisely the right moment. I owe you my life.”

“I don’t know about that.” She turned to look at the brush where the rock had come from. She saw nothing and wondered if Mary Ellen was there. A thought occurred to her, and she pulled out her cell phone and made a quick call to Jonah.

By the time she disconnected, she could hear sirens. When the sirens came to a stop, the first person to burst through the brush was the person Carly most wanted to see: Nick.

• • •

“Fat, dumb, and happy.”

“Excuse me, sir?” Once Sperry had been assessed and whisked away by ambulance, Carly and Garrison were escorted up out of the catch basin to a paramedic rig. Medics examined her leg and the captain’s head. Caswell’s kick had broken the skin above Garrison’s ear, and the cut was being cleaned. He wouldn’t need stitches, but Carly’s bullet graze near her hip was likely to need a few. Nick had hovered with her until Jonah arrived, and then the two of them had gone back down to where Harper’s car was parked, leaving Carly in the company of the captain.

“It’s what an old training officer said to me, years ago,” Garrison explained. “He said that it was dangerous for a cop to take a desk job. If they weren’t careful, they’d become fat, dumb, and happy.”

“I’ve heard that expression as well,” Carly said, a little amazed that Captain Garrison was talking to her as if she were an equal as they sat together on the back of the medic rig.

“I’d forgotten it, and that is exactly what happened to me: I lost the cop edge and became an administrator.” He spit the last word out as if he were spitting out an unpleasant taste. “I should have woken up after Drake and Tucker.”

Since he started it, Carly got brave. “Can I ask what was going on with you and Caswell and Sperry?”

“At first, we just caught up. We were friends years ago. I was the one who suggested Conrad hire Thomas when Conrad’s son got into trouble. He called me after you arrested Harper, to complain. At first I thought it was just a simple case of Thomas mad because you showed him up, so I listened to him vent. But when the baby was kidnapped and he called asking about the investigation, I knew something else was up.” He paused and sipped some water. “Maybe it’s time for me to retire. Here I was, ready to chat with a thief as if he weren’t a thief.”

“Maybe you just wanted to believe the best in someone you once knew.”

“If only it were that easy.”

Carly almost felt sorry for the man. For most of her career, he’d seemed larger than life, but not in a positive way. Now that he’d been cut down to size, she saw a flawed man who’d probably used the arrogance to cover his insecurities. She realized he’d no longer be a nemesis, someone she couldn’t talk to, and for that she was glad.

He pointed. “Look what Sergeant Anderson found.”

She turned and saw Nick and Jonah walking their way, between them a small girl wearing filthy jeans and a tank top but smiling as she looked up at Jonah. Nick was carrying a grimy backpack. Carly wondered if it contained the diamonds.

“Mary Ellen?” she asked as she stood to greet the trio.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Did you throw that rock?”

“Yes, I threw it. I hate that lawyer. He had Stanley killed.”

There was a commotion behind Nick. Wiley and another agent were walking up the hill with Thomas Caswell between them.

“I had nothing to do with the human trafficking—nothing,” he was saying.

Usually the first thing a lawyer told his client was to shut up. Carly thought it ironic that Caswell obviously couldn’t take his own advice.

He broke off when he saw Mary Ellen; then he cursed. “Just tell me one thing,” he said, dragging his feet as Wiley tried to move him along. “Do you have the diamonds?”

Mary Ellen looked away. “Some of them.”

“Some?” Caswell’s eyes got wide, and he stopped, staring at her.

Mary Ellen smiled. “I traded some for money to buy food and gas.”

“We have what’s left safe and sound,” Wiley said with a snicker.

Carly thought Caswell was going to choke. He began rambling almost incoherently about how much money the diamonds were worth and how this street urchin had squandered them. Then Carly was surprised by a sound she’d never heard. Garrison was laughing.

“Well, what do you know? Who played whom? Looks like a little girl got the best of both of you. While you were killing for those stones, she used them to stay alive.”

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