The Green Line (29 page)

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Authors: E. C. Diskin

Tags: #Retail, #Suspense, #Thriller, #Fiction

BOOK: The Green Line
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“That’s impossible! ” He was talking to Dominick from the twenty-third district. He tried not to sound as flabbergasted and frustrated as he was. He’d just planted those pills this morning. The officer sounded annoyed, as if Trip had sent him on a wild goose chase.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I only know what I saw. Has she seen a judge yet?”

“Yeah, her lawyer got her into the two o’clock call. She’s been out for a while.”

“And who’s the lawyer?”

“Ted Gottlieb.”

Trip tried to hide his reaction. “Okay, thanks for the information.” Trip hung up the phone and pounded on the steering wheel. This bitch was not going to fuck this up. He was too close. He popped open the glove box—he had enough stuff. He made a U-turn and headed toward the townhouse.

· · ·

MARCUS
was back on Montrose, frantically searching the road for Callahan. He grabbed the phone. “Duvane. Callahan’s now in the black Mercedes. You need to grab him now.” He rattled off the plate number for Duvane and waited. They had to get to Callahan before Callahan got to Abby.

“Okay, we’ve got officers heading toward Montrose now. What happened to the Cadillac?”

“He dumped it. Listen, you need to get over to the forest preserve that’s just west of Montrose and Clark. I think you’ll find the kid.”

“What’s going on?”

“Callahan. I lost him briefly, but he dumped the car. I saw the Cadillac after he left. No sign of the kid but there were drugs all over the seat.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Me either. And Abby was arrested today with that kid.”

“Arrested? What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know. I’m heading to her place right now. Call me the minute you get Callahan.”

“Will do.”

Marcus closed the phone and immediately re-opened it and called Abby’s cell. She answered after one ring.

“Marcus! Where have you been?” She didn’t wait for the answer. “I was arrested! Cops just came here with a warrant and searched my house. I was hiding on the roof!”

“Abby, I heard about the arrest. I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you earlier. I was just following Callahan. I’m on my way to you right now.”

“Marcus, there were drugs in my kitchen drawer. It’s just luck that I even found them before the police came in. I put them on the roof.” Her voice was starting to crack.

“Abby, I’m coming. Don’t move.”

“I can’t take this. I’m getting set up. You have to get Callahan and end this.”

“We will. There are cops looking for him right now. They’re gonna pick him up.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m just about ten blocks from you. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Sit tight.”

“I can’t sit in this place. I feel like a target. I’m going outside. I’ll wait for you out there.”

He could hear the panic in her voice. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Abby.”

She cut him off. “I’m not safe here. He knows where I live.” She was obviously having trouble holding it together. “Even Mrs. Tanor is thinking the worst.”

“Abby, I know this seems impossible right now. Just hold on—I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

Marcus closed the phone and tried to gun it down Montrose, only to be slowed by traffic.

· · ·

ABBY
closed the cell. She looked around the room. She wanted to fall back on the bed and cry, but if she relaxed, something else would happen. She grabbed socks and shoes and headed downstairs. She was not going to be a sitting duck. She buttoned up her coat, put her cell in her pocket, grabbed a baseball cap, and headed out the door.

Headlights came toward her from the right and people clogged the sidewalks to her left. The streets and sidewalks were filled with the five o’clock rush. The traffic, the noise, the movement, felt comforting. Marcus would be here in just a few minutes. She took some deep breaths and kept her eyes on the road, waiting to see his car.

· · ·

MARCUS
held the cell tightly in his hand. He was on Clark, just a few blocks now from Abby’s place, but the traffic was thick and crawling along. He could see the top of her building. “Just hold on, Abby.” He tapped the steering wheel anxiously. He was craning his neck to see what was holding up the cars in front of him. He couldn’t see. Headlights, brake lights, street lights, store signs—all glowed in the darkening sky. He slammed the horn. “Move!” he yelled. The traffic had not eased. He flipped up the cell and called Abby again.

· · ·

TRIP
flew down Roscoe toward the townhouse, lowered his window, pounded the portable siren onto the roof, and hit the light. It didn’t make a sound, but the flashing got some attention as he came to a stop. A woman in a baseball cap was standing at the gate in front of Abby’s place. He watched as she tipped the cap lower on her face and briskly walked toward the crowd on the corner. People crossing the intersection at Clark looked his way. He jumped out, the badge dangling from a chain around his neck.

Abby turned toward him and their eyes met. Everyone was watching. Not moving. Abby tried to run but bumped into people. It was like they created a human wall. She was trapped. He had her by the arm within seconds.

“Help!” Abby screamed out to the crowd as he pulled her toward the car.

Trip spoke loudly, wanting to be sure the spectators could all hear him as he pulled her toward his car, forced her body to lean over the back, and cuffed her. “Thanks folks. This has been a tough one. Ms. Donovan, you have the right to remain silent.”

“No! No!” She was resisting. She yelled out to the crowd. “He’s not a police officer! Help me!”

Trip just laughed. “Oh, that’s original. Anything you say can and will be used against you.” No one in the crowd moved. He finished the Miranda rights as he pulled her back up and pushed her head into the backseat.

“No! Someone stop him!” He slammed the door. She was screaming and kicking at the door. He smiled at the watchful crowd and waved as he pulled the siren off the roof. It only took a minute. The crowd separated as he pulled into the intersection and headed south.

· · ·

AFTER
four rings, Marcus couldn’t take it anymore. He stared past the traffic, at the slightest hint of a blue light, maybe a strobe, in the distance. Panic set in. The cars were moving again and he swerved into the northbound lane to try and get by. It was gridlock. “Fuck it,” he said. Marcus swerved to the side and abandoned the car. Horns blared. He started running for the townhouse. He was a block away when the flashing light stopped.

He got to the corner and looked down the street. It was quiet. He didn’t see Abby. He ran to the gate and hit her buzzer. No answer. He tried the cell again. Nothing. He called the home phone. Nothing.

He rang unit 8, Mrs. Tanor, repeatedly pushing the button until finally he heard the static of a connection.

“Yes?”

“Mrs. Tanor. This is Detective Marcus Henton speaking. I’m looking for your neighbor, Ms. Donovan. Could you help me?”

“Just one moment, Detective.” The connection ended then and Marcus waited, wondering what was keeping her.

Mrs. Tanor’s door opened and she came into the courtyard, wearing a long wool coat over what looked to be a nightgown. She didn’t open the gate.

“I’m really sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but it’s quite urgent that I speak with Ms. Donovan. I spoke to her just ten minutes ago and she was here. Now no one is answering her door or her phone.”

She looked him up and down. “Listen, I don’t know who you are but I’ve seen you here before. You leave Abby alone. She seems to be in a heap of trouble these days and I’m guessing you have something to do with that.”

“Mrs. Tanor, I appreciate that you’re trying to protect Abby, but I am too. I
am
a detective.” He pulled out his badge and identification and offered it through the bars. “Look.”

She studied the identification and looked back at him, still unsure.

“Mrs. Tanor, I know Abby didn’t do anything. She may have witnessed a crime and she and I have uncovered some illegal activity.” He stopped; it would be too much to try to explain it all now. “Please, I can tell you care about Abby, but she might be in danger. Can you please tell me if you saw her leave or saw someone come here, or better yet, can you get me into her place? She said that you have her spare. I really need to be sure she’s okay.”

Mrs. Tanor reached for the handle. He’d gotten through. “I didn’t see her leave and I haven’t heard anyone come here. And I can hear the buzzer when someone rings her place. That has not happened in the last ten minutes for sure. Wait here.” They were now in the courtyard just outside Mrs. Tanor and Abby’s doors. “I’ll go get the key.”

“Thank you.” Marcus paced the area and called Abby’s cell again. No answer. Mrs. Tanor returned just a minute later. “Detective, it’s not here.”

“Are you sure? Where do you keep it?”

“I always keep it in the kitchen drawer.”

“Have you used it recently?”

“No. Abby brought me the new set when she changed the locks just a couple of weeks ago. It’s not here.” He could tell that she was processing something.

“What is it?”

“I just told Abby that I thought someone had been here. Had been in my house. That drawer was open. I never open that drawer.”

“When was this?”

“Yesterday.”

“Mrs. Tanor, thanks for your help. I’ll be in touch.”

Marcus headed back toward Clark and stopped to talk to a threesome hanging out at the corner.

“Did any of you see a woman standing on this corner a few minutes ago? I was supposed to meet a friend and I can’t find her.”

The three chuckled. “Well, I hope we didn’t see your friend, but we did see some girl get dragged into a car by a cop a few minutes ago.”

The other chimed in, “Dude, it was wild. Total undercover operation. Not even a cop car. But he had the badge and light.”

“Was it a black Mercedes?”

They responded in unison.“Yeah!”

Marcus ran for his car without another word, hearing only a sarcastic, “You’re welcome!” coming from over his shoulder. He felt like his mind was getting cloudy. The panic was almost too familiar. Running through the streets. Feeling mayhem building around him.

His cell rang. Duvane spoke before he could say anything.

“Marcus. I’m standing in the middle of this forest preserve you sent me to.”

“And?”

“And I’m looking at your kid.”

“Have you questioned him?”

“Oh no. He’s dead.”

He knew it. “Callahan’s got Abby.”

“What?”

“He got to her place just before me. Seems like he staged another arrest. Kids on the street said she was arrested. Put in a black Mercedes by an undercover cop.”

“I’ll get more officers on the street. We’ll get him.”

“He’s gonna kill her.”

“We’ll find him. Hold on.”

It seemed like minutes of deadly silence. Marcus got back to his car and headed south. Duvane came back on the line. “Okay, we’ve got an APB, added kidnapping.”

“I’m heading south on Clark. Maybe he’ll go to his office.”

“I’m going to have officers check the other properties too.”

TWENTY-FIVE

ABBY’S
wrists burned where the handcuffs had scraped her skin. Her right shoulder throbbed from being thrown into the car. Lying on her side, she could feel the vibrations of her phone. She knew it was Marcus. She sat up slowly. Callahan watched her in the rearview mirror. She needed to see where he was taking her.

“Why are you doing this?”

He looked at her eyes through the mirror. “So tell me Abby, how’d you get rid of the drugs?”

Abby didn’t answer.

He smiled. “Not to worry. I’ve got some more.”

She spoke softly. “I don’t do drugs.”

“Oh yes you do, actually. Such a shame too. Such a pretty lady with so much potential, just thrown away.”

He’s going to kill me, she thought. “Why are you doing this?”

He ignored her question. “Why didn’t you mind your own business?”

And then, before she could respond, “We had such a good time that night, Abby. I really thought that it might actually turn into something.”

Abby cringed at the thought—at having spent an entire evening with this psycho and maybe even sleeping with him.

“Didn’t you have a good time that night, Abby?”

She didn’t answer. Just stared out the window, avoiding his probing eyes in the mirror. She was watching the roads carefully. They’d gone south and were now heading west. She thought they were on Division. They were heading back to that neighborhood.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He actually sounded earnest. “It’s because of the boyfriend, isn’t it?”

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