The Night Is Deep (A Liam Dempsey Thriller Book 2) (7 page)

“Nice ear,” she said.

“I heard that sound enough when I was on duty in Minneapolis. There always seemed to be construction going on somewhere.”

“If you’re right that’s going to narrow down a search for us real quick. Owen will have a decision to make.”

“What decision?” Owen asked, stepping into the kitchen. His drink was only half gone but Liam wondered if perhaps he wasn’t still on his first anymore.

“Mr. Dempsey here may have identified the sound in the background of the video,” Perring said. “We think it might be an industrial jackhammer and that would pinpoint the location Valerie’s being held at.” Perring gave Owen a long look, which he read correctly.

“If you figure out where she is you want to go in and get her, am I right?” Owen asked.

“Yes,” Perring said.

“And you need me to okay it since she’s my wife.”

“Yes.”

Owen sighed and rubbed the side of his face before leaning back against the counter. To Liam he looked like he’d aged ten years since that morning. “It’s going to be dangerous for her.” Owen said.

“It’s dangerous for her now,” Perring returned. Owen gazed at her, then at Liam. Liam nodded.

“We should move forward with this if it pans out,” Liam said. There seemed to be a wavering inside Owen that Liam could see, as if a guttering candle flame was nearly extinguished.

“Okay. But I want to be there.”

Perring chewed her gum harder. “You can be in a squad car out of sight.” Owen began to protest but she shook her head. “That’s the best you’re going to get. Sanders wouldn’t even agree to that most likely.”

The mustached officer named Mills entered the room and handed Perring a sheet of paper. “Got ahold of the city administrator. She said there are three locations in the city undergoing street repair but only one that was utilizing a backhoe with a jackhammer in the last three days. It’s over on West Seventh Street, south of the second intersection.”

“You’re sure?” Perring said, studying the note.

“Positive. Bigger city it would’ve been a nightmare to narrow down, but Duluth is small enough there weren’t any other options.”

“Good. Get SWAT’s collective ass in gear. I want three teams of four ready to roll in the next forty-five minutes. Tell them I’ll be in touch before then. Send them all the information we have so far as a briefing.”

Mills moved out of the room, calling out to someone as he went. There was a bustle of movement from the dining room and Liam couldn’t help the rusty feeling stretching its legs in the base of his stomach. The thrill of the chase still lived and breathed after its long hibernation.

“You’ll be with Sanders and I if that works for you, Liam?” Perring said.

“That’s fine.”

“I’d like to be in the same car with you also,” Owen said after a moment. “I need to be there when it happens. No matter—” He took a deep breath. “No matter what the outcome.”

Perring flicked her eyes from Owen to Liam, then back again. “Okay, but you both do exactly as I say, no argument.” Both men nodded. “Good. Let’s get organized, it’ll be dark soon.”

CHAPTER 7

Liam moved down the sidewalk, head hunched low, the wind even sharper than it had been that afternoon.

He glanced up the street, the sodium halos of light pouring from the street lamps like dirty water. A row of run-down houses lined the north side of the road while the opposite held homes in considerably better repair.
Wrong side of the tracks,
he thought, trudging onward. Almost out of sight he spotted the blinking lights mounted to the tops of several sawhorses marking the beginning of the construction area across the intersection he was approaching. He neared a bus stop and ducked inside the glass alcove, glad to be out of the wind’s direct fury. He pulled out a brand new pack of cigarettes along with a Bic lighter and blazed the end of the cancer stick with a flick of his thumb. He drew a small amount of smoke into his mouth and then blew it back out before looking around.

Many of the houses on the north side of the street were missing siding. A few had garbage strewn in the front yard, but all of them were occupied. Lights blazed in each of the windows and voices clamored from the third house down where the bass of loud rap music flowed out like a speeding heartbeat. Liam gazed at each home, examining the garages, the vehicles in the driveways, the signs of life. As he took another fake pull from the cigarette, the radio tucked behind his ear came to life with Perring’s voice.

“What do you see, Liam?”

He turned away from the construction area before answering into the small microphone beneath his collar. “The houses on this end of the street are way too active to have someone like Valerie making noise in the basement. Someone from next door would hear her.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I don’t think she’s in any of the homes. How does it look on the other side?”

There was a pause. “The same. Houses seem to be all occupied.”

“I’m going to make my way up the side street that leads to the alley and see what I can see.”

“Don’t fuck this up, Liam.”

“I won’t.”

He crushed out his cigarette and tossed it in the butt-can outside the bus stop before drawing his jacket tighter as the October night deepened around him. The heft of his handgun at the small of his back was comforting, like a thick blanket on a cold evening. He glanced once more down the street at the dormant construction equipment, forms of sleeping monsters in the ill light.

The side street led up one of the steep hills that seemed to be a constant feature everywhere on the east side of Duluth. There were no flat spots; you were either walking up or down. His thighs burned as he moved and a light sheen of sweat developed near his temples despite the cool air. When he came even with the alley running south, parallel to Seventh Street, he turned into it, making his movements seem as natural as possible to anyone who might be watching. He was simply a shipyard worker returning home, maybe a college student walking off a bender in the fresh air. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as the shadows of the alleyway swallowed him whole.

He moved behind the dilapidated houses, their two-story height seeming much taller now that he was beside them. To his right was a cleared parking lot, empty save for a pop bottle that chattered across the cement beneath the urging wind. Several gnarled trees grew beside the alley, their twisted branches naked and obscene in the darkness like arthritic reaching fingers. Ahead a deeper shadow took the form of a square building with several broken windows in its second level. Liam stopped beside the trunk of the last tree and studied the building for a time before speaking.

“Perring?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I might have something. There’s a building midway up on the next street over. It would be right behind the construction zone, the only access being from the west.”

“What’s it look like?”

“Abandoned. It’s made of brick and the windows are busted out.”

“Can you tell if it has a basement?”

“No, not from this side. Don’t see any ramps or stairs leading down. Can you get any info on it?”

“Sure. Sit tight.”

He waited, almost lighting up another smoke simply for something to do. He watched the building for movement—a shadow passing one of the dark windows, a light bobbing around its corner, a vehicle parked nearby—but there was nothing. The wind tugged at the branches above his head and a flutter of dried leaves cascaded around him. One landed on his shoulder and he brushed it away.

“Liam?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s an old commercial rental property, closed down now. The upstairs had everything from law firms to small engine repair.”

“Is there a basement?”

“Yes. It hasn’t been used in years but the last occupant was a printing company.”

“A printing company.” Liam pushed away from the tree. “That basement would’ve had to have been soundproofed for the equipment.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“That’s where she is.”

“We have to be sure, we get one shot at this. We do it wrong . . .” She let the last sentence hang.

“Do you see anything else promising? Anyone spotted anything on the other three sides?”

“Nothing like this.”

“It’s got to be that one.”

Perring was silent for a long moment before coming back. “Okay. We already have a sharpshooter positioned on the two open streets. SWAT’s going in in five minutes. We’re going to follow right after that. You come in behind us, got me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Out.”

Liam reached back and drew his pistol, checking that a round was chambered before slipping it into the holster once more. A tingling flowed through his muscles and his heart started to quicken its pace.
Here we go,
he thought absently as he readied himself for what was to come. He knew Dani would be terrified to know he was going into a situation like this. His consultant jobs over the past year had been confined to interviewing suspects, accompanying detectives to crime scenes, and sitting before a computer in too-warm offices that stunk of old coffee and crumbling linoleum. But here, tonight, with the wind kissing his flesh and the promise of action, the hope of reuniting Valerie with Owen, he was back in the worn groove his career had carved within him. This was what he was made for.

Two dark vans rolled down the street beside him, their lights off, tires barely making a sound. They pulled to a stop near the sidewalk and it was only a second before the doors burst open and figures dressed entirely in black swarmed out, short rifles gripped in gloved hands. They flowed around the building like water, securing the two visible entrances before the reverberation of the first door being battered inward met his ears. Cries of
“Police!”
echoed to him and he started to run.

He covered the hundred odd yards to the building quickly, not breaking pace as he drew his handgun. As he ran, he flipped down the Velcro flap on the front of his borrowed jacket, revealing the word POLICE in reflective block letters. More shouts came from inside the building, and over the sounds of his breathing he could hear another door being busted open. As he reached the side of the building, Perring’s sedan pulled even with the curb and she leapt out with Sanders beside her, their weapons drawn, faces tight with anticipation. He followed them inside, throwing a quick look at Owen who sat in the rear of their car beside a uniformed officer, his friend’s face pale in the wan dome light.

The building stank of mold. Water stood in puddles in a stripped concrete floor full of divots. The wind followed him inside and coursed past him as he turned with Sanders and Perring down a wide stairway that dropped into darkness. A SWAT member waited at the base of the stairs, rifle pointed at the ground, the flashlight attached to its forestock blazing a circle of white on the floor. He directed them straight forward and they moved in a line past darkened doorways and vacant rooms. Liam’s heart double-timed now. There had been no shots but that didn’t mean the silence would hold. Ahead an overhead light threw a septic glow onto the floor through a narrow entry and he recognized its yellowed tone from Valerie’s video. His nerves sung beneath his skin. There hadn’t been a single shot, she must be okay, she must be alive. Perring entered the room first and Sanders followed. Liam had to pause in the doorway since the small space inside was so crowded with people.

The room was twenty feet across and fifteen feet deep, much like the others they’d passed. A tangle of cords ran down through one wall and hung like slayed snakes above a scarred worktable. The chair Valerie had been seated on in the video sat to one side, several dark blots dried beneath it. There were water-filled scratches and gouges on the concrete floor and the smell of mold lent a thick quality to the air.

Besides the five SWAT members and the two detectives, the room was empty.

“Goddammit!” Perring swore. “They’re gone. We missed them.” She turned to one of the SWAT members. “Clear the rest of the building. You find anything you come get me.”

“Yes ma’am,” the officer said and led his team out of the room. Liam stepped inside once they were gone and gazed around.

“How long do you think?” Sanders asked, sauntering around the space, thumbs hooked in his pockets.

“Since they were here? At least a few hours, maybe more,” Perring said. Liam knelt beside the chair Valerie had been strapped to. There were worn grooves in its back where her hands had been tied. He leaned closer to the floor and studied the drops of blood near the chair. They looked like blackened pennies in the sickly light.

“I think it was longer,” Liam said at last.

“Yeah?” Perring said.

“I’d put my money on early this morning by the looks of the blood.”

“So she was held here for what, a few hours?”

“Just long enough to make the video. Then moved,” Liam said, standing straight.

“Smart,” Sanders said.

“More like reckless,” Perring said. “Moving her like that, hundreds of things could go wrong.”

The officer that had been sitting in the backseat with Owen appeared at the door, his eyes swinging around the room before looking at Perring. “Detective? Mr. Farrow wants to know if he can come inside.”

“Yes, let him in. Then call forensics. I want a full sweep of this building. Have four or five units canvass the neighborhood surrounding this block. See if anyone in the area noticed anything suspicious about this place over the last few weeks. Don’t tell them a word about the case. If they ask we’re investigating a simple break in. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Go.”

The officer’s steps faded in the darkness and Liam looked at the single bare light bulb hanging from the center rafter. It was so yellowed he imagined he could scrape the light off its exterior with his fingernail.

“Back to the drawing board,” Sanders said.

“Why would he bring her here?” Liam asked. “Why not just make the video in such a remote location that we wouldn’t have any clue where they were?” He moved to the workbench and inspected its length. It was clean and dry. “Construction was going on outside when he made the video. This guy isn’t stupid so why would he intentionally leave a clue like that for us to find?”

“He wanted us to come here,” Perring said.

“I think so,” Liam said. “He wanted us to see something. That or he’s enjoying leading us on a goose chase.”

Owen’s long form darkened the doorway. He looked around the room, eyes hovering for a long time on the chair.

“We’re sorry, Mr. Farrow,” Perring said.

Owen nodded. “Somehow I guessed this is what we’d find. I didn’t believe it would be that easy to get her back.”

“This is a step forward, Owen,” Liam said. “We’re going to find her.”

Owen finally brought his gaze up as if noticing them for the first time. “I want everyone to back off. I want to give the money to this person and get my wife back. No more SWAT teams, no more busting in doors. We do whatever he wants.”

“Mr. Farrow—” Perring started, but Owen held up a hand.

“She’s my wife. I won’t lose her over trying to get this guy.” There were tears at the edge of his voice and a moment later he turned and disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.

“Let’s get him back home,” Perring said after silence returned to the room. “There’s no use standing around here.”

They filed out but Liam lingered for another minute, his eyes traveling over the chair, the grooves worn in its wood, the blood on the floor. He gave the light bulb one last look, then followed the detectives out of the basement.

A new shift of the task force had taken over by the time they returned to Owen’s house. They glanced up from their computers as Owen filed past followed by Liam and the two detectives. In the living room Owen slopped a glass half full of whisky and drank it in three swallows before refilling it. Liam put a hand on his friend’s arm but Owen shrugged it off.

“Owen, you know if Valerie had been in that basement tonight, she’d be home safe right now,” Liam said.

“No, I don’t know that and neither do you. Any of you,” Owen said, gesturing at them all with the hand that held his drink.