Witness Pursuit (16 page)

SIXTEEN

C
assie stood. “Missing, what do you mean missing?”

“They can't find her.”

“Scott was supposed to—”

“He got pulled away on a guest emergency, not long, like ten minutes. He's been texting and calling, but she's not responding.”

Cassie put the dog down and paced to the door. “I need to find her.”

Ryan blocked her. “You're staying here.”

“I'll protect Cassie,” Agent Nance said. “You go help find your cousin.”

Ryan looked from Cassie to the agent, then back to Cassie.

“If you don't go I'll break out of here and search for her myself,” Cassie threatened, feeling utterly helpless.

Ryan pointed his index finger at her. “Don't leave this apartment.” He whipped open the door.

“Text me when you find her,” she called after him.

The door slammed shut. Cassie paced to the sliding patio door, covered by a curtain meant to hide her presence.

“There's got to be something I can do. I can't stand that the people I love keep getting hurt.”

“You want to protect them,” Agent Nance said.

“More than anything.”

“I might be able to help with that. Actually, we'd be helping each other.”

Before she could respond, the door opened and Aiden stormed inside. “We're on lockdown. Mom's safe, Scott's out looking for Bree, Officer Carrington is checking out Bree's cottage.” Aiden finally noticed Agent Nance standing there. “Where's Ryan?”

“I told him to help find Bree,” Cassie said.

“I'll watch your sister,” Agent Nance offered.

“What can I do, Aiden?” Cassie asked.

He ran a nervous hand through his thick blond hair. “Nothing, just—” He hesitated. “Don't do anything. Don't call anyone. Just stay out of trouble.”

Aiden blew past the agent and left.

Don't do anything. Like always. The world continued around her and she couldn't do a thing to participate, and in this case help get her family and friends out of trouble.

A slow burn rose up her chest.
Just stay out of trouble.
Is that what everyone thought? That Cassie had somehow caused this? She'd blamed herself from the beginning, yet Nate had almost convinced her she was not responsible for anything that had happened.

Bree was missing. Cassie's fault.

She narrowed her eyes at Agent Nance. “You were saying something before about helping me stop this madness?'

“You can start by calling Becca. We'll set up a meeting place.”

“Are you going to arrest her?”

“Not if she cooperates.”

“I should tell Chief Walsh.”

“Let's get Becca into custody first. I'll convince her to give up Tony and testify against him. When the chief returns with evidence from the laundry facility, we'll have everything we need to shut this down. It will be over.”

Finally. Cassie would be out of danger, her family, her friends...

Nate would be out of danger.

Cassie pulled out her phone and made the call.

Becca answered in a frantic state. “Cassie, I'm scared and now Tony's gone and I don't know where he is, and he said if he didn't come back to leave town but the bad guys will follow me!”

“Becca, listen, the FBI can protect you.”

“They'll arrest me!”

“Agent Nance won't arrest you if you cooperate. I'm with him right now. Meet us somewhere so he can keep you safe.”

“Tony said—”

“Stop listening to him. Hasn't he gotten you into enough trouble?”

The agent scribbled something on a piece of paper and slid it across the dining table.

“Bec, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound cross, but I'm worried about you, and my family.”

“Your family?”

“Bree is missing. Becca, please help me. Meet me at—” she glanced at the slip of paper “—Sammish Park on Route Two, north end parking lot. Okay? Do you have a car?”

“I have your car.”

“Can you meet us at the park in about—” She glanced at the agent.

“An hour,” he said.

“In about an hour?” Cassie said to Becca.

“I don't know, maybe—”

“Becca, please, so no one else gets hurt. We can fix this, Bec. You and me.”

“Okay.”

Cassie pressed End and nodded at the agent. “She'll be there.”

* * *

Nate contacted the local authorities to keep them in the loop about his investigation of Viceroy Laundry.

He pulled up to a large white building tucked away in the corner of an industrial park and double-checked the address.

A patrol car eased up next to him and an officer got out. “I'm Officer Panko with Mount Vernon PD.”

“Chief Walsh, Echo Mountain.”

They shook hands.

“My chief asked me to meet you here in case you needed assistance.”

“Thanks.” Nate eyed the building. “I'm a little surprised there's no signage identifying the company.”

“Maybe because it's not a direct-to-consumer business?” the officer suggested.

“Perhaps.” Nate and the young officer headed for the building.

“Can you tell me what this is about, Chief?”

“Smuggling bail jumpers out of the country. It's a federal case, but somehow landed in my town—” he glanced at Officer Panko “—and now yours.”

“How did it lead you here?”

“They hide passports and cash in clean linen and deliver it to cabins. The criminals check in and it's waiting for them. What do you know about this place?”

They reached the front door.

“I've cruised by a few times,” the officer said. “It never seemed occupied.”

Hands cupped against the glass, Nate peered through the window into a reception area. The lights were off and no one was stationed behind the desk.

“Could you take that side of the building and I'll go around the other side?” Nate said.

“Sure, what am I looking for?”

“Signs of life, access inside. Finding an employee would be helpful.”

“You got it.”

Nate went around the left side of the building, peering through windows, trying to figure out if this was a legitimate company. It had to be since the linen was being washed and pressed somewhere before being stuffed with contraband, and delivered to Echo Mountain Rentals.

A crash echoed from the back of the building. Nate withdrew his gun. Could be nothing, but he wasn't taking any chances. He took a few more steps, ready to peer around the corner.

“Come on, faster!” a man shouted.

“Don't rush me,” another answered. “Gotta set the timer.”

“Just let 'er rip.”

“Not until we're clear.”

Wait a second, that sounded a lot like...they were setting a bomb?

“Police, freeze!” Officer Panko shouted.

Three shots rang out. Nate rushed around the corner and aimed his weapon.

Two men took cover behind a black SUV and opened fire. Nate darted back behind the building.

“Get in, get in!” one of the men shouted.

Nate peered into the parking lot and a bullet shattered the window above his head. He dodged back for cover, but not before he spotted Officer Panko on the ground.

Nate called for help. “Code Three. 8713 Industrial Boulevard. Send an ambulance, over.”

Tires squealing, the SUV peeled out of the lot.

Nate aimed his weapon and hesitated in shock when he saw who was behind the wheel: Len Pragner.

How was that possible?

Nate refocused and fired, hitting the back quarter panel. The vehicle sped out of the parking lot. He got the make and model number and would call it in to Chief Washburn.

Just let 'er rip.

Not until we're clear.

Suspecting they'd set an incendiary device, Nate raced to Officer Panko. They had to get clear.

Nate didn't know how much time he had.

How big of an explosion to expect.

He grabbed Panko under the arms and dragged him across the parking lot behind a metal Dumpster. He did a quick check of the man's torso. No blood.

“Wore your vest. Smart kid,” Nate said. Then he spotted blood staining his sleeve. He put pressure on the wound.

The wail of sirens filled the air. No, no, no, Nate had to keep emergency vehicles away from the building, away from the—

An explosion rocked the ground. Nate automatically ducked as flying debris sailed over the Dumpster into the adjoining parking lot.

Officer Panko moaned and started to cough.

“It's okay,” Nate said. “You're okay.”

“What was that?”

“They destroyed the building.” And with it, any leads to connect the mob to the smuggling operation.

* * *

Nate hung around for a few hours, hoping to get inside the demolished building, but local fire officials weren't giving anyone access because they deemed it unsafe.

“I doubt there's anything left between the incendiary devices and water damage,” the fire chief said.

Nate offered him his business card. “Let me know if you find anything.”

Nate headed back to Echo Mountain. His phone rang and he hoped it was Cassie calling to check in. He pressed the speakerphone button.

“Chief Walsh.”

“Len Pragner has escaped,” Detective Vaughn said. “They were transferring him from the hospital and two guys—”

“I know. He just blew up the laundry facility.”

“You're kidding.”

“Wish I were. How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine.”

“She's not fine,” Will said from the background. “She's taking the rest of the day off to bake cookies with me and the girls.”

“Will, stop,” she said.

Nate's phone beeped with another call. He glanced at the caller ID. “Chief Washburn's calling. Gotta take this.”

“I'll check in later,” she said.

“Sounds good.” He switched over. “Chief?”

“You're not going to believe who owns a black SUV like the one that fled the scene of the explosion: Bill Anderson of Echo Mountain Rentals.”

“We need to pick him up. Also, it was Len Pragner—”

“So you heard he's escaped.”

“Yes. Send a patrol car to Anderson's home and I'll swing by his office.”

“No, I'll go to his office—you need to get to the resort. Both McBride girls are missing.”

SEVENTEEN

C
assie and the FBI agent anxiously waited for Becca. Three hours later, she was still a no-show. As twilight illuminated the mountain range in the distance, Cassie considered the fact that her friend had changed her mind, or worse—the mob guys had found her before Becca could get to Cassie.

Agent Nance spent much of his time making calls, pacing and looking worried. He asked Cassie to remain in the car, hidden from view.

She sensed he didn't appreciate her nonstop chatter, which was worse than usual because she was nervous, worried about Becca and Bree. She kept texting Aiden, asking if they'd found Bree, and he responded to stop bugging him.

She almost texted Nate, but didn't want to distract him. Even now, by helping the FBI track down Becca, a solid lead, Cassie didn't feel like she was doing nearly enough.

Agent Nance opened her car door. “Can I see your phone?”

“Sure, why?”

“We're going to try to trace Becca's phone.”

“Oh, okay.” She handed it to him and he walked a few feet away, holding his phone to his ear while analyzing the screen of hers.

Cassie, in the meantime, kept watch out the window, praying Becca was okay and that she would show up with a perfectly logical explanation as to why she took so long to get here. Optimism and prayer were Cassie's best defense against the panic threatening to drive her bonkers.

“Did they track her down?” she asked the agent.

“Not yet.” He turned and glanced over the top of the car. “Someone's coming.”

Cassie looked through the window. “It's Becca, driving my car.” She started to get out.

“Wait,” Nance said, putting out his hand.

Becca pulled up next to them. Cassie offered a wave, and got out of the agent's car. Becca opened the car door.

“I was so worried about you,” Cassie said.

“I didn't know if I should come.”

“I'm glad you did.”

Agent Nance pulled Becca out of the car.

“Hey!” Cassie protested.

“Becca Edwards, you're under arrest.” He cuffed her wrists in front.

“You said you weren't going to arrest her!” Cassie protested.

“We have to follow procedure, then offer her a deal.” He read her her rights and led Becca to the back of Cassie's car.

“I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it.” Becca sobbed.

Cassie was not liking this one bit.

“Let's see what you've got.” Nance opened the trunk of Cassie's car. It was empty. He squeezed Becca's arm. “What did you do with it?”

“I didn't do anything. Let go, you're hurting me!”

“You and your boyfriend are done.”

“Knock it off!” Cassie shouted, grabbing his arm.

Agent Nance was losing it, big-time, and he still had her phone so she couldn't call for help.

“Stop it!” Cassie said.

He shoved her away, just as...

A black SUV screeched into the parking lot. Three men got out, including Len Pragner. Cassie's heart dropped. The other two men aimed guns at Cassie, Becca and the FBI agent. A smile curled Len's lips.

“I'll take it from here, Agent Nance.”

* * *

Nate tried not to break every speed law in the county as he raced back to the resort.

Cassie was missing.

When he tracked down Officer McBride, the cop was pacing the hallway outside Quinn's fortress apartment like a caged animal.

“What happened?” Nate said.

“I was helping search for Bree. Cassie told me to go, she told me she'd be fine with Agent Nance.” Ryan hesitated. “He's FBI. He's good at protecting people, right?”

“Continue.”

“I was gone maybe an hour. We found Bree in the shed outside. Someone locked her in and she was pounding and yelling, but it's way out there and—”

“And when you returned Cassie was gone?” Nate said, calmly.

“Both she and the agent were gone.”

Nate whipped out his phone and called Agent Nance. It went directly to voice mail. He tried Cassie's phone. Again, voice mail. Needing to locate the agent, he called Chief Washburn. “Is Agent Nance at the police station?” Nate said.

“No, why?”

“He's missing, along with Cassie. We need to find them.” Nate's forced calm was slowly slipping away.

“Maybe Bill Anderson will have answers. I just pulled up.”

“On my way. Wait for me.”

Nate glared at Officer McBride. “We need to find your cousin before they do. There's a guy at the resort, I think his name is Kyle. He's a tech genius. Check with Aiden. See if he can track her phone.” Nate raced to his car.

* * *

At least they didn't toss Cassie and Becca out of a moving vehicle. What a morbid idea. But strange thoughts popped into your head when you faced death.

Regret whipped through Cassie as she considered what she'd be missing.

With Nate.

The man she should be spending the rest of her life with, a long life filled with laughter and children.

Children? She had never considered being a mother until she fell in love with Nate. A tear formed in her eye, but she swiped it away with her sleeve. She would be brave. She would not concede defeat just yet.

Len had put Cassie and Becca in the middle seat of the SUV as one of his men drove, and the other sat behind her and Bec. Cassie still couldn't quite believe they'd been taken hostage considering the way Len's men beat up the FBI agent, bound his wrists, and locked him in the trunk of Cassie's car.

Her empty car. Who could have stolen the linen from the trunk that hid contraband these violent men were after? A better question, what did Len and his mob friend want from Cassie and Becca?

“For the record,” Len started, “I didn't kill that woman in the cabin.”

Cassie thought his confession odd.

Len glanced at Cassie. “Not that I haven't killed before, but that was an accident.”

“How was it an accident?” Cassie decided to placate him, try and make a connection.

“My boss sent me to the cabin to find her.” He pointed at Becca. “She and her boyfriend have been stealing from us, and apparently kept stealing even when they knew we were after them.”

“No, I didn't take the stuff in the trunk,” Becca whimpered.

“Be that as it may, you'd better hope true love Tony returns it to us.”

Becca shot a worried look at Cassie.

“What happened to Marilyn, the lady in the cabin?” Cassie redirected.

“I thought she was the property manager,” Len said. “Didn't know what Becca looked like. Let myself in. The woman screamed and ran into the bathroom. Slipped and hit her head. Her mutt wouldn't shut up so I threw him in the closet.”

“And the shovel?” Cassie said.

“Figured I'd dispose of the body. A murder would draw too much attention, and we weren't done with our business in town.”

“Are you going to kill us?” she asked. Not knowing was the worst part.

Len frowned. “I have no reason to kill you, Cassie McBride.”

“You chased me down—”

“I thought you were working with Becca and her brainless boyfriend.”

“You were going to hurt me in the hospital, and at the farm and—”

“I wanted to find out where you stashed the money and passports. But you're not a part of this idiot scheme. You are not my enemy.”

His bizarre integrity puzzled her considering who he worked for. Then again, maybe he was toying with her.

“I'm not naive,” she said. “I've seen your faces.”

Len burst out laughing, as if she'd told a joke.

“You watch too much television. It doesn't matter. Everyone knows who we are now, which is why guys like us need the passports, to start new lives somewhere.” He patted his jacket pocket. “I always keep mine handy in case of emergency. But my friends here were supposed to get their new passports.” He glared at Becca. “So we'll need those back.”

He redirected his attention out the front window. Cassie studied her friend. Becca shook her head that she had no idea what happened to the laundry containing the contraband.

Cassie decided to be strong instead of scared.

“Len?”

He turned to her.

“How can I help?”

* * *

Nate got confirmation from the organized crime unit in Chicago that Wallingford Imports was tied to organized crime, and there had been communication with Echo Mountain Rentals.

Nate had his connection, a direct link from the mob to Bill Anderson. As they questioned Anderson, he pretended to be baffled by their accusations.

“I don't understand,” he kept repeating.

“Drop the act,” Nate said, fisting his hand. “You've been letting the mob use your cabins to smuggle bail jumpers out of the country.”

Bill shook his head. “No, honestly. I don't know what you're talking about. Do I need a lawyer?”

“What you need is to help us find Cassie McBride before we add murder to your list of felonies,” Nate said.

The front door opened and Carol entered the living room, holding a stack of files. “Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you had company, Bill.”

“Come in,” Nate said. “Maybe you can convince your boss to be straight with us.”

“About what?” She laid her purse and files down on a table by the front door.

“They think I'm involved with the mob,” Bill said in a panicked voice.

Carol's jaw dropped and her eyes widened.

“Carol, you know me better than anyone. Tell them they're wrong,” Bill said.

Nate took a step toward Bill, towering over him as he shrank into the sofa. “People might die, today, because of you.”

“Come on, Bill. We all make mistakes,” Chief Washburn said, taking the soft approach.

Bill shook his head, looking genuinely dumbfounded.

This was going nowhere, and time was running out. There had to be a way to break this guy. If only Nate could directly connect him to the evidence...

Of course, Detective Vaughn's stolen phone.

Bill must have taken it to prevent the police from acquiring evidence against him and the mob. Eyes focused on Bill, Nate took out his phone and hit Detective Vaughn's number.

A moment later, Vaughn's unique ring filled the room.

But it wasn't coming from Bill's pocket.

Nate slowly crossed the room, following the source of the sound. It originated from Carol's purse.

“Ma'am? The phone, please,” Nate said.

She dug it out of her purse and handed it to him.

“I don't understand,” Bill said.

“How did you get involved in this?” Nate asked.

The woman collapsed in an easy chair and burst into tears. Nate didn't have time for tears. He had to find Cassie.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” she said.

“Explain what's going on, please,” Nate pressed. “And quickly.”

“It's my grandson. He's in jail back in Chicago, and they said they'd protect him if I made sure the laundry was delivered and the reservations coincided with the deliveries.” She looked at Nate. “Todd's the only family I have. I tried to get him to move out here with me, but he got caught up with a bad group of boys. He was so lost when his parents died.”

“What was he incarcerated for?”

“Drug possession with intent to sell. He's not a tough kid, Chief. He was beaten up in jail and I thought they'd kill him. I had no choice.”

Nate glanced at Chief Washburn and then knelt beside Carol. Threatening her with jail time wouldn't inspire her cooperation.

“Carol, I could call my contacts in Chicago to see what I can do to help your grandson, but you have to know that your days working with the mob in exchange for their protection are over.”

She nodded.

“I'll make some calls, too, Carol,” Chief Washburn offered. “But you need to help us.”

“Please,” Nate said, “I can't lose Cassie. Do you have any idea where Len would take her?”

She shook her head that she didn't. “I have Len's phone number and the laundry everyone's been looking for.”

“Isn't it in Cassie's car?” Nate asked.

“No, I took it before it was towed from the rental office.”

“And they think she still has it,” Nate muttered.

A call came in and he answered, “I'm in the middle of—”

“They found Cassie McBride's car,” Red said. “Agent Nance was stuffed into the trunk. Cassie and Becca were taken.”

* * *

Two hours later Carol was scheduled to drop off the laundry with Len Pragner near an abandoned barn north of town. There was no reason Len would suspect she was working with the police.

Nate was careful whom he involved at this point. He no longer trusted Agent Nance, who admitted to persuading Cassie to help him bring in Becca even though it could be dangerous. Apparently Nance was tired of chasing his tail like the rest of them, and had planned to set a trap for Tony.

Using Becca and Cassie as bait.

Nate spoke with Agent Nance's boss, who wanted Nate to wait for federal agents before making the laundry drop. With Cassie's life in danger, Nate wasn't waiting on anyone. He said if the Feds wanted to close the mob smuggling case, they were welcome to pick up the perpetrators tomorrow morning at the Echo Mountain jail.

Nate, Chief Washburn, and Officers McBride and Carrington assembled at the meeting spot to go over the plan.

“I'll be in the backseat of Carol's car for protection,” Nate said. “After she drops off the laundry, I'll get out of the car here—” Nate pointed to the map “—and hide in the trees. I'll let you know when I see them approach. Radio County, they'll be waiting, and the three of you close ranks. These guys aren't going to be happy if they check the bag on site and find only laundry. If they do, we'll have minutes before they hurt Cassie and Becca.”

Hurt them. He couldn't even think
kill them
.