The Ex Who Glowed in the Dark (Charley's Ghost) (6 page)

“Okay, we’ll check with them later,” Amanda said. 

“Do you want to try the people on the first and second floors?” Dawson asked. “Maybe by then the girls will have come home.”

Not that the girls were likely to know anything either. It was time to resort to Plan B. “Let’s go back into your apartment and talk.”

Dawson hesitated, looking around as if searching for something they’d missed. Finally he sighed and opened the door of his own apartment.

They sat again at the table with the cups of cooling store brand tea. Amanda wasn’t about to drink any more of it, but she wrapped her hands around the mug. It was something to do.

“We’re getting nowhere,” she said. “We don’t know what we’re doing.”

Dawson drew in a shaky breath. “I realize that.”

“We need help, somebody who has experience at this sort of thing. We’ve got to call the police.”

“No!”

“Yes. They’ll know what to do. We’ll call Detective Daggett and he’ll be able to make sure nobody finds out we’ve talked to them.”

“No!” Charley echoed Dawson’s refusal. For emphasis he darted up to the ceiling then back down again, half through the table, his face a few inches from Amanda’s as he scowled at her. “That’s not a good idea.”

“We’ll swear him to secrecy,” she promised, trying unsuccessfully to lean around Charley who matched her every movement. To Dawson who couldn’t see Charley, she probably looked like a drunken snake charmer swaying back and forth. “I’m sure they’ve dealt with this sort of thing before. Daggett will be able to help. Remember when we were trying to catch Kimball, Jake Daggett was so secretive he didn’t even tell me he was working on my case.”

“The people who have Grant are computer literate. Maybe they can even hack into the police computers.”

“Then we’ll tell Daggett not to enter anything into the computer. He always carries a little notebook that he writes everything in. Anyway, we don’t have a choice,” Amanda said firmly. “Your brother’s in trouble and we don’t have the ability to help him. He’s counting on his big brother. We can’t let him down.”

Dawson sagged back in his chair as if defeated. He swallowed hard then gave a brief nod. “Tell Daggett that Grant’s life is in danger if those people find out we’ve talked to him.”

“I will.” Amanda took her cell phone from her purse. Jake Daggett would know what to do. And he’d have the resources to find out if little brother Grant had died in the car wreck that killed Dawson’s parents. She didn't want to think that Dawson could be mentally ill, but the two neighbors they’d talked to had never seen the boy, and the story he'd told about false identities and running from unknown killers was pretty far-fetched.

Of course, having her ex-husband’s ghost hanging around was a little far-fetched too.

Chapter Five

Half an hour and two cups of bad tea later, a knock sounded on Dawson’s front door. He darted an anxious glance in that direction and Charley swept through the door then back again.

“It’s that cop,” he reported, a disgusted look on his face. “Brought a buddy with him. Just what we need. Two of them.”

Amanda thought they could probably use the entire Dallas Police Department, but two was a good start. “It’s Daggett,” she said to reassure Dawson then went to the door and opened it.

She hadn’t seen Detective Jake Daggett for a couple of weeks, not since they’d finally concluded all the details of locking away Roland Kimball. The man looked good in a disheveled sort of way with his piercing brown eyes, dark hair that always seemed to be two weeks overdue for a haircut and cop muscles that stretched his T-shirt very nicely. For a fleeting instant she admitted to herself that perhaps Charley’s jealousy of the guy had some merit.

But that was silly. She was glad to see Jake because he could help Dawson. That was all.

She didn’t recognize the other guy, but he had that same indefinable air of being a cop. He also filled out his T-shirt with more than adequate muscles. Cops must spend a lot of time working out. Both men wore faded jeans and scuffed cowboy boots. The new guy was more clean cut with short black hair and a definite Italian look. He carried a backpack that appeared to be stuffed full of something. Doubtless more cop stuff.

Amanda could only hope their cop aura wasn’t as obvious to anyone who might be observing as it was to her. 

Impulsively she stepped forward, reached up and wrapped her arms around Jake’s neck. “Good to see you again,
cousin Jake
,” she said loudly, then whispered, “Play along in case the kidnappers are watching so they won’t think you’re cops.”

“Hey!” Charley protested. “You don’t need to do that!”

She probably didn’t need to, but it seemed like a good idea.

Jake hugged her back. “Good to see you too,
cousin Amanda
.” He seemed more than willing to play along, returning her hug enthusiastically enough to convince any possible eavesdropping kidnappers that they were relatives.

“Okay, Amanda, that’s enough,” Charley said. “We’ve got a crime to solve.”

Maybe the embrace had lasted a few seconds longer than necessary. Of course, that all depended on the definition of
necessary
. Amanda had to admit she hadn’t minded.

Both men came inside and she closed the door behind them. “Jake, you remember my assistant, Dawson Page.”

Jake nodded to Dawson then indicated his buddy. “This is Detective Ross Minatelli. He’s a forensics specialist.”

The second detective smiled, faint lines crinkling around bright brown eyes, white teeth sparkling against olive skin. Except for the cop aura, he seemed like a perfectly charming guy. He extended a hand and Amanda shook it. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

Dawson stepped forward, his movements jerky, his face pale. “You told someone else?” he accused Jake. “They told me not to contact the police. I didn’t even want Amanda to call you, but I trusted you, and now you’ve brought in a stranger?”

“It’s okay,” Jake assured him. “Ross has worked kidnappings before. He knows the drill, and I need his expertise. Let’s sit down and talk about this.” He pulled out his perennial pen and notebook and moved toward the table.

“Where did you park?” Dawson asked. “Did you come in a squad car? What if they're watching?”

“We came in an old Ford with plates that will show up as
not on file
if anybody checks. Don't worry. We know what we're doing. This is not our first kidnapping.”

Dawson let out a long breath and stepped back. “Okay. I’m sorry. Amanda’s right. We need help finding my brother. Thank you for coming.”

“Would you like some tea?” Amanda offered.

“Or coffee.
I have coffee. Amanda doesn’t like coffee, but I have some.” Dawson shook his head as if suddenly aware he was babbling.

“No, thank you,” Jake said.

Ross set his backpack on the floor. “None for me.” 

Both men had, Amanda thought, made wise choices. The coffee was probably store brand instant.

She gathered up hers and Dawson’s mugs and carried them to the kitchen to refill them. She couldn’t drink any more of the tea, but Dawson needed something to do with his hands. She wasn’t sure he’d notice if she just put water in his mug. It would probably taste better.

“You’ve worked on kidnappings before?” Dawson asked Ross.

“I just finished a case a few weeks ago. We found the kidnappers and got the boy back alive. The bad guys are in jail and the boy’s home with his family.”

Amanda turned at the solemn sound of the man's voice and saw that he was no longer smiling and being charming. His expression had turned serious, his features determined, his own notebook and pen on the table in front of him.

She returned to the table and set another cup of hot tea in front of Dawson then took a seat at the table between him and Daggett.

Charley floated over and stood between Daggett and her. She crossed one leg over the other and deliberately swung her foot through his immaculate khakis.

“Why did you do that?” He made a futile attempt to look innocent. “I just want to be close so I can hear everything that’s said.” 

“We did some checking at Grant’s school—” Daggett began.

“What?” Eyes wild, Dawson leaned across the table toward him. “You talked to them? What if the kidnappers find out?”

“They won’t.” Ross spread his hands over the table top between Jake and Dawson. “We’ve done this before. We know how to do it. Trust me. We’re going to bring your brother home safe.”

That sounded like they believed there really was a brother.

It sounded like Dawson wasn’t crazy. That was good.

But that meant Dawson’s brother really had been kidnapped. That was bad.

“Amanda told me the basics of your story,” Jake said, “but I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me everything, all about your parents’ deaths, changing your identities, Grant’s disappearance, everything. You never know what small detail will help us find him.”

Dawson clutched his cup in both hands and repeated the story he’d told Amanda, unwavering in the specifics.

When he concluded, Jake nodded. “That agrees with the information we have. The disappearance of you and your brother right after the murder of your parents was an unsolved mystery until today.”

Disappearance of you and your brother
. The brother had not died in the car crash. At least Amanda knew for sure what they were dealing with now.

Dawson nodded. “My dad knew those people were evil. He was prepared.”

“Yeah, he did a good job. Your story was big at first, your parents dead from a car bomb and the two of you missing. But with no clues, the case went cold pretty fast. Then about a month after the incident, your uncle showed up and made inquiries about the two of you.”

Dawson’s knuckles turned white as his grip on his cup tightened.
“Uncle? I don’t have an uncle. Mom was an only child, and Dad’s brother died when he was a baby.”

The air in the room became thick and still like the air before a summer storm.

“What was his name?” Ross asked, his question somehow ominous in the quiet of the room. “The brother who died.”

“Lawrence.
Lawrence Franklin Dawson. He was two months old. It was a crib death.”

Ross and Jake exchanged quick, knowing glances.

“Was that the name the man used?” Amanda asked. Even Charley seemed to be holding his breath, anticipating the answer.

Jake nodded.
“Yeah. It was.”

Again deep silence enveloped the room.

“That means,” Amanda said, laying a hand on Dawson’s arm and speaking softly, “either your dad lied to you about his brother’s death or the man pretending to be your uncle was an imposter, someone who knew about your family.”

Dawson’s jaw clenched. “My dad never lied.”

“He set you up to live a lie, provided you with false identities.”

“He did it to protect us.”

“From what?”

Dawson spread his arms.
“From this! From Grant being taken. From people wanting to kill us.”

“But they don’t want to kill you,” Jake said quietly. “They want the program your father wrote.”

“And I don’t have it.”

“Can we see the e-mail you got from the kidnappers?”

Dawson nodded, brought up the e-mail and slid the laptop toward Jake and Ross.

The two men leaned over the computer, studying the words on the screen.

“Educated,” Jake said. “No bad grammar or misspellings.”

Ross nodded.
“Computer literate. Knows about source code and has the expertise to bounce the message all over the world so we can't track him.”

“He could be saying
we
to make it sound like there's more than one person involved, but I'm going to guess there really is more than one. Kidnapping an eleven-year-old boy would be quite a task for one man.”

“Could be one of them has a religious background since he put 666 in his e-mail name.
Thinks it makes him appear threatening.”

“Or that’s what he wants us to believe. There’s no religious context, so it could be something deliberately designed to mislead us.”

As the two men pointed out things Amanda had not even considered, she felt completely useless, as if she’d wasted valuable time that morning doing inconsequential things like talking to the weird neighbors.

Well, she'd called in the cops, the experts. Now she could turn it all over to them. Let them do their job. Stay out of the way.

She glanced at Dawson. He leaned forward intently, listening to every word the two detectives said.

Finally they stood and Ross retrieved his backpack. “Can you show me your brother's room? I'd like to check it for evidence.”

“You have something in there to check for trace evidence?” Dawson asked. “In that bag?”

Ross grinned.
“Got my own little traveling laboratory in here. If your brother's kidnapper left so much as a skin cell, I'll find it.”