The Memory Collector (38 page)
Read The Memory Collector Online
Authors: Meg Gardiner
Her phone vibrated. She grabbed it, backed farther away from the window, and answered in a murmur. “Tang.”
The desk officer from the station said, “A Gabe Quintana for you. Says it’s an emergency.”
“Put him through.”
The phone clicked. Gabe came on. “Lieutenant, we have a critical situation. Jo’s been taken hostage.”
She stilled almost involuntarily. “Holy Christ.”
He relayed his conversation with Jo. “At least two men are involved. I set the rendezvous for an hour from now.”
Across the alley, the figure behind the frosted glass window hoisted something.
“But they’ll be on the move and you can track Jo’s cell phone signal. They’ll—”
“Hang on.”
Tang couldn’t tell for certain, but the object in the figure’s hands seemed to have the long barrel of a rifle.
“Gabe, I’ll call you back. Text me the details of the rendezvous. I’ll take point on this and coordinate the response.”
She rattled off her cell number for him and hung up. She pulled back her jacket and took her weapon from the holster. She held it low, came out of the shadows, and crept down the alley.
Vance ran out of the fog toward Jo and Murdock. Thirty feet behind him came Shepard, bleeding and stumbling. Calder was prodding him along with the gun.
Out of breath, Vance said, “Got them.”
Murdock held up Jo’s phone. “Too late.”
He threw the phone to Vance the way he’d discard a piece of trash. Without hesitating, Vance turned and lobbed it into the lake.
Murdock shouted, “No—”
They heard the phone splash in the darkness.
“Idiot,” Murdock said.
Vance looked at him with confusion. “I thought you wanted me to dump it.” He pointed at Jo. “I told you, you can’t trust her.”
Shoving Shepard ahead of her, Calder ran up to them. “You’re damned right you can’t trust her.”
Shepard looked dazed and ill. His forehead was split where Calder had pistol-whipped him. A dark flow of blood covered his face and spattered his dress shirt.
He needed help. But one step at a time. Continuing to breathe was a victory. Getting out of the park would be the next.
Jo turned to Calder. “Kanan’s going to be at the rendezvous in fifty-nine minutes. You really want to hang around here?”
Jo understood why Gabe had chosen the Stanford campus. He knew it, from the air—the 129th had choppered patients to Stanford Medical Center more than once. He also knew that she could navigate it blindfolded and half-asleep. And, despite what he’d told Murdock, the top of the quad offered at least a dozen places for him to set an ambush.
But she could think of only one reason why Murdock had agreed to rendezvous so far down the Peninsula, and so soon: Misty and Seth were in that area. Gabe had just narrowed the search radius considerably.
Murdock nodded at Jo. “She has to come with us. Price of the deal.”
Calder frowned. “Fine.” She turned to Shepard. “Last chance. You want to hand over the sample?”
“I can’t.”
Calder pointed toward the road. “Put Beckett in the Tahoe.”
Jo’s spirits soared. Murdock locked his hand around her arm and began leading her up the grassy slope. Calder put up a hand.
“Wait. As insurance, to make sure she’s telling the truth, we’ll leave a marker here.”
“What do you mean?” Murdock said.
She kicked the spare tire. “Tie it to Alec’s feet. The bridge to the island’s over that way. He should be strong enough to tread water for an hour. If we get Slick, we’ll tell Ian where to find his brother.”
“No,” Shepard said. “Wait. You can’t—”
The gun swiveled and stopped between his eyes. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do. You’re not putting anything over on me ever again, cocksucker.”
She hawked out the word as if it had been festering in her throat for months. Shepard recoiled.
“
Move,
” she barked.
Move,
” she barked.
Vance pushed the tire along the shoreline and Calder prodded Shepard in the back with the pistol. They faded into the night.
Murdock hauled Jo up the lawn toward the Tahoe. From the depths of the fog she heard Shepard’s voice.
“Don’t. For God’s sake, Riva, please—”
Then she heard a splash.
Gabe wrote a text message to Tang as he ran down Jo’s front steps.
Ferd trundled alongside him, scratching his arms and neck. “Are we going to Stanford?”
“I am.” Gabe looked him up and down. “You’re going to the urgent care center. You’re covered with hives.”
“What?” Ferd held his hands out. “God almighty.”
“It’s not Congolese monkey virus. It’s the aftermath of courage.”
“I don’t want to leave you to handle this—”
“I know what Jo looks like. I can recognize Shepard and Kanan, if it comes to it. Somebody needs to point them out to the cops on the scene.” He slapped Ferd on the back. “Get to the doctor. Take it from a paramedic.”
He sent the text to Tang and sprinted toward his 4Runner.
Ian Kanan blinked the fatigue from his eyes. He was standing beside a desk in the stockroom of a sporting goods store. A mess of Post-it notes and photos was spread across the desk. So were three pistols, a Kbar knife, an ankle sheath, and several boxes of custom ammunition. He was holding a night-scoped rifle in his hands.
It was a Remington, tactical model, one of the most popular American bolt-action rifles. It had an adjustable trigger and detachable box magazine. It would do.
He set it on the desk and saw a photo from his wallet—him with Misty and Seth at the beach, Whiskey with a Frisbee in his mouth. He ran his fingers over the snapshot.
“Please, understand,” he murmured.
Outside the frosted glass window, he saw movement in the alley. It was just a shift in the darkness, but he stepped to the door and put his back against it.
The darkness outside flowed as insubstantially as smoke, but he saw movement. Somebody was there.
The door was dead-bolted and a note was taped to it.
Gone to Wendy’s. Back in 10. STAY HERE.
Gone to Wendy’s. Back in 10. STAY HERE.
Quietly he unlocked the dead bolt and opened the door. He stepped into the mist in the alley.
Ten feet ahead was a figure in a black peacoat. The light from the frosted window shone on the barrel of the pistol held close to the figure’s leg.
One of
them
.
them
.
He wasn’t silent, but with traffic passing by on the street, he didn’t have to be. He took three running steps, bringing his fists up. The figure was tiny, with spiky black hair—turning to look at the window, and turning faster, hearing him approach. He saw an East Asian profile.
It was a woman. He chopped his fists down. He measured the blow, hitting her on either side of the neck, at the base where it met her shoulders. She went lights-out and collapsed like a ventriloquist’s dummy into his arms.
He threw her over his shoulder and carried her inside.
31
“
Wake up.”
Wake up.”
Kanan tapped the woman’s cheek again, harder this time. Her head swerved up and knocked back against the support pole. Her eyes struggled open.
She focused. Saw him squatting in front of her, balanced on the balls of his feet, forearms resting on his knees. She jerked and found that her hands were bound behind the beam with athletic tape. Her mouth was gagged with a small rubber ball.
“When I remove the gag you can scream until you turn purple, but nobody can hear you down here,” he said.
She glared at him, then looked around. The basement of the sporting goods store was cold and bare.
He pushed on her cheeks and popped the rubber ball out of her mouth. She turned her head and spit at the floor.
“I’m a police officer, and you’re under arrest,” she said.
“I found your badge, Lieutenant.” He nodded off to one side. Her badge, weapon, and phone were laid out on the concrete floor. “Apologies for disrupting your evening. But before I let you head back to the station, we need to talk. How did you find me?”
“Detective work. Ian, we know your family has been taken hostage. We’re working to rescue them.”
His skin went hot. “You—rescue them?”
“We know they were taken to force you to obtain nanotech samples from Chira-Sayf. We want to help. Let me go. We don’t have any time.”
“Where are they?” he said.
“I don’t know. The kidnappers are going to bring them to a rendezvous. But we have to arrange for law enforcement to get there first. Cut this tape.”
She looked like a wild hedgehog—tiny, tough, and ready to bite him.
“Are you alone?” he said.
She jerked against the athletic tape. “Of course not. Ian, you can’t dick around. Your family is running out of time.”
He didn’t know whether she was lying. He picked up her phone.
One new message.
“What’s this?” he said.
Exchange: Kanan’s wife and son for Slick. Stanford quad. Top of oval 9 pm.
He stood up, his heart racing. He read it again.
“Who sent you this?” he said.
“Ian, I have to alert the authorities. We don’t have a second to waste.”
He held out the phone so she could see the display. “Who sent this?”
Upstairs, somebody pounded on the back door to the store. He glanced up the stairs.
“Please, Ian. This is your chance to get your family back. You have to—”
He grabbed her nose, pinched it, and pushed her mouth open. He stuffed the rubber ball back inside to gag her. Hanging on to the phone, he ran up the stairs into a stockroom. She mumbled through the gag, trying to get him to come back. He closed the basement door and the sound disappeared.
He paused, looking around. He saw sports equipment, plus a scoped rifle and handguns on a desk. Somebody banged on the door again.
“Boss, let me in.”
Relief and excitement filled him. He set the phone on the desk, crossed to the door, and flipped the dead bolt. When he opened the door, light fell on the welcome sight of Nico Diaz’s face.
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