Dangerous Memories (15 page)

Chapter Seventeen

“Who brought you in?” Levi shouted, yanking on Lanning’s collar in spite of the agent’s bruising grasp.

“I don’t let many men get away with messing up my shirt.” Lanning warned a cop off with a look. “How did you know?”

“Blondie was at the bar with you last night, followed us outside.” As much as Levi wanted to knock Lanning flat on his butt, he released
him with a push and took a step away. “You played me.”

“It wasn’t my call. Your guy talked to my guy. We were to apprise them if you contacted us. I followed orders.” He acted like it was no big deal and Levi would understand.

The old Levi—the go-to guy at the Denver office—he would have understood. The new man standing in a Plano hotel crazy to find the one woman he’d fallen in love
with...
That
guy wanted to crash some heads together. Levi walked to the end of the hall, dialing a number he’d known for eight years.

“Good evening, Cooper.” Sherry Peachtree’s voice needed no identification.

“Did you want to talk to me?”

“Not particularly,” she stated bluntly. “How long did you think you could continue to run an operation while you’re suspended? You asked for favors,
Levi. If you’ll remember, I’m the one that introduced you to those men who could have lost their jobs helping you.”

“I’m done.”

“Are you asking or telling? I can’t differentiate by your tone.”

This time it was easier to remain silent. The job wasn’t the most important thing in his life. Part of him would always be a marshal. The better part would be lost without Jo.

“Ah, so
I have your attention. Your non-witness has unwittingly come up with a half-decent plan that might actually flush out the murderer of our men, resolving this mystery.”

A long pause. He didn’t like it, but he kept silent. He needed both agencies to find Jo. “What plan?”

“Lord have mercy, Cooper. I thought you were up to speed. Jolene Atkins purchased a GPS locater and sent the tracking
information to her phone. The Bureau hasn’t found her yet. We’re assuming she hasn’t turned it on.”

She might already be dead?

His mouth went all sorts of dry, choked. He couldn’t get his teeth unhinged to speak. Whatever it was, he couldn’t listen any longer, either. Suddenly, Lanning was in front of him, taking the phone from his hand.

“Yes ma’am. Got it. Will do.” The agent clicked
the end call button and tossed the phone to him.

“She’s dead.” That staggering pain throughout his body was back. “You know the only reason she wouldn’t have the tracker on is if she’s dead.”

“Or it’s not working. Or they destroyed it. Or she’s waiting. Pull yourself together, man. They’ll be calling and you need to be ready. We got your back.”

They waited in the hotel room. He
didn’t pay attention to the time. Men and women were busy around him and he was useless, ordered to stay put. He could only think about his mistakes and pray Jolene was alive. Then his cell buzzed. Lanning and his techs nodded.

“Cooper.”

“You know we have the woman,” a distorted mechanical-sounding voice said. “You have something else we want.”

“Where and when?” He rubbed the back
of his neck, debating what he should do. They wouldn’t give Jo back. Not alive. And the FBI wouldn’t share the evidence
if
they found any. He had to do things his way or she was dead.

The tech gave the sign to stretch out the call.

“One hour. We’ll call—”

“You have a problem,” he interrupted. “I don’t deal with middle men.”

“Marshal, think about Ms. Frasier’s health.”

Lanning shook his head, mouthing “don’t.”

“Alone. Top dog or no meet.”

“What are you doing?” Lanning whispered through gritted teeth.

Levi set the phone away from him, praying to God he knew the answer. Concentrating on making his voice as flat and unemotional as possible, he answered, “Miller and Phillips. I have what you want and you have what’s mine.”

“One hour. Ditch the
feds.”

The line disconnected. The tech shook his head.

“What did you just do?” Lanning looked like he would blow a gasket.

“I gave us time to form a workable plan and hopefully time for Jolene to turn on the GPS. Did you have something better?”

“We’re not turning over Frasier’s evidence.”

“What evidence? No one’s found a thing. Have you?” Was Lanning lying to him again?
Even if he had, he wouldn’t give it to him. The DoJ had waited twenty years.

“You claimed—”

“Talk. It’s what they expected and gave us time. That’s all I need to save her.”

“We don’t have any information to share. I’ll need your phone.”

Levi handed the man his only connection to Jo. It was either that or be tackled to the ground making a run for it. “You’ve handed her a death
sentence.”

Lanning patted his shoulder then drew him in close. “Levi, you know I like Jo. But orders are orders. Sorry, man. Officer, make sure he stays close.”

Orders were orders.

A set of pickup keys slipped into his jacket pocket was about as direct an order as he’d received. The police officer standing nearby stood a bit straighter, physically letting him know he’d accepted
his own instructions.

Levi needed a hint, something to fake the information the murderers wanted. As soon as he knew what the paper inside the statue meant, he’d leave.

He’d have a head start. A chance.

* * *

TEXT MESSAGE: Blocked Sender 8:28 P.M.

You know what to do. No loose ends.

* * *

J
O
HAD
HER
bases covered. Or so she’d thought. Her hands were behind her
back, handcuffed, crunched in the floorboard of the backseat. LuLu turned the radio on and sang with an off-pitch screech.

Simple enough. Let herself be captured and tracked to her mother’s client. Levi finds her at the last minute, rescues her and they capture the bad guy. She’d seen it a hundred times in the movies.

Right, and they climbed out windows of speeding trains, too!
Levi’s
voice echoed in her ear.

The hotel manager and desk clerk had agreed to help by giving the information to the police. She was surprised when LuLu hadn’t bothered to hide her face from hotel cameras. She’d even parked in the drop-off zone. It didn’t make sense. If she’d been attempting to kidnap her and shoot Levi all this time, then why wasn’t she more worried about hiding her identity?

Something was terribly wrong.

The murderer had been one step ahead of them until they’d purchased the motor home. What had made her think she could outsmart them with this pathetic plan? There was a reason she’d been letting Levi take charge. He was a U.S. Marshal with tons of experience. Even with a few hiccups, he knew what he was doing. Her plan was full of flaws and she’d deliberately
placed herself in danger.

Two or three miles from the hotel, they switched cars. “Stolen?” she asked, awkwardly caught on the floor between the seats, with her feet going to sleep under her.

“What makes you say that? Don’t I look like the motherly type?” LuLu referred to the child booster in the backseat.

“The car was in an empty lot, unlocked, keys under the floor mat. You even
had to adjust the seat.”

“You are smart. But not smart enough to realize who I am and why everyone wants you dead.”

“I hope to find out and put you in jail.”

“Sister, you’re barking up the wrong tree. These people aren’t going to tell you why they killed your mother. She’s not the only one they’ve taken out along the way.” She cleared her throat and drove. “You’re so naïve.”

“You could get out. You know witness protection works.”

“That would imply I actually want out.” She laughed, sounding a little hysterical and a lot scared. “I’m really sorry it came to this, Emmy. Why couldn’t you walk away?”

No. No. No. Ask her what she means.

“Did you...”
Calmly.
“Did you use to babysit me and call me Emmy?”

“Everyone called you Emmy. Emaline was so, well,
pretentious. And yes, I watched you for your mom. And before you ask anything else, this isn’t a good conversation to have. You’re not going to like the answers.”

She
wasn’t Emmy. That little girl no longer existed. Weird that in the midst of a terrifying car ride to who knew where, she’d make a breakthrough about her identity. She was Jolene Atkins and she knew who her father had been. She
wished she’d trusted Levi just a little more.

“Of course I want to know the truth.”

“Girlie, I know you’re searching a list of clients that would have reason to kill your mother. I’m not stupid.”

“And you don’t think I want to know the real reason my parents died?”

“Will it make the hurt go away? No.”

No, the hurt won’t go away.
“I still need to learn what happened. That’s
why I’m here.”

“I know I shouldn’t. I’m not supposed to talk with you at all.”

Jo remained quiet. She didn’t know how to encourage this woman to put herself in danger. She didn’t know how much time remained before she’d be face-to-face with her parents’ murderer. She didn’t believe that the talkative LuLu had actually wielded the knife or pulled the trigger.

“Sorry to tell you this,
hon. Your mother was neck-deep in the quicksand that would bring down some very influential people. Still could. She made some powerful enemies. You don’t ever walk away from people like that. You only get carried out in a body bag.”

“My mother couldn’t have known she was doing business with dangerous people. My father wouldn’t—There’s no way.”

“They didn’t know until it was too late.
And it looks like Elaine never told him. Otherwise, the cops would be screaming down our necks instead of you digging into all this mess.”

“Why did you kill her?”

“Killed or be killed, honey. It’s a simple rule to live by. Now shut up. I’ve talked way too much.”

“Can you tell me what they were trying to hide?” Yes, she really wanted to know. She’d been in the dark much too long.

“Let’s just say they made lots of money and won’t go to jail. They’re the people everyone talks about getting away with whatever ‘it’ is and your mother helped them do it legally.”

It didn’t matter that LuLu wanted her to be quiet. Jo wouldn’t listen to her trash. “You’re wrong. I may not know much about my mother, but I know my father and he wouldn’t have been with the person you’re
describing.”

LuLu may only know the version of the story
the client
wanted her to have. The enemy wasn’t her mom. Anger mixed with the fright of the unknown around her. She had to discover the truth. And would live with whatever happened.

Maybe the quiet, sedate life was the way to go after all. No traveling in the motor home. All she needed was a quiet backyard where she could watch
amazing sunsets with Levi.

Levi. Find the phone.

Jo had no clue where they were in Dallas. It didn’t matter as long as Levi could find her.

They stopped. The small car had bucket seats and if she stretched, she could see LuLu’s brown hair and arm as she unbuckled. A moment later, the door was opened and a shot split the silence. LuLu slumped across the emergency brake.

Oh,
my God!

The door closest to her head opened, the evening breeze cooled her hot skin. Jo bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming. Shock kept her immobile, silent. And fear kept her eyes tightly shut waiting for the second shot.

“No.” She couldn’t believe LuLu was dead. But she was. Very dead. And if Levi or the FBI had trouble tracking where she was, she would be joining her former
babysitter.

Jo didn’t even know her real name.

Without speaking, the shooter removed a small electronic device from under the seat. He must have listened to their conversation.

Continuing his silence, he taped her mouth shut, hauled her from the floorboards. Smiling all the while like Hannibal Lector—a lecherous, evil tilt to his lips proved he’d enjoyed the murder he’d just committed.

He’s not wearing a mask. Bad sign, right?

The guy was the same build as the man who had grabbed her at the hotel, old enough to have murdered her mother, somewhere in his late forties. He certainly had the actions of a cold-blooded murderer. The way he’d shot LuLu was definitely heartless. He wasn’t Japanese or had any resemblance to the anime character in her head. And he certainly didn’t
have blue or green straw-like hair.

Jo caught the shadow of another person at the wheel. As dark and sinister as the person at her back. Without a word, he shoved her into a food-service panel van. They left LuLu’s body in the stolen car. No questions. No demands. Allowing her frightened feelings to run rampant.

Her shoulders were already aching from their awkward position. There were
no seats, no windows, no access to the driver. She’d definitely seen too many movies and murders on television. Vans were never a good sign.

LuLu had been right when she’d told her she didn’t understand these people. She’d called her naïve. Her plan—or lack of a real plan—was going to get her killed. The cuffs were cutting into her wrists.

If they’d just get to where they were going
then she’d be able to activate the GPS. She’d imagined they’d search her for electronics and hadn’t wanted to take a chance turning it on until the last minute.

Find the phone, Levi. Please find me.

Chapter Eighteen

“Okay, glad this is voicemail. I know you’re angry and probably getting angrier. But I need you to know that I thought this through. Just find me and it’ll be over. Then a
normal
life. Right? Before this thing cuts me off, I bought a GPS car locator. The information is in a note on my phone. I cut a hole in my shoe big enough to hold it. Hopefully they won’t find
it before you find me.” A pause. “I know you’ll find me.”

Jo’s voice did nothing to help him breathe easier.

The tech returned his phone and asked him to go through the messages, verifying he knew all the senders. Levi had plugged through them all anxious to hear Jo’s voice and explanation. He’d listened several times trying to decipher a hidden meaning. There wasn’t any.

No desperation.
Maybe a spasm of jitters. Unfounded confidence in his abilities. He didn’t have the expertise or equipment necessary to track Jo. If Lanning hadn’t been involved before, Levi would have asked now. His new “best friend” joined him in the hall, looking at his notes, a bit of surprise on his face that Levi still stood in the same spot.

“LeeAnn Wright, also known as LuAnn Harper or Lisa Tucker.
Jo’s LuLu is a frequent flier with the law. Just skirts the dark side far enough not to get any hard time. A long list of known associates.” Lanning shook his head and answered his phone.

Levi knew what that look meant. He’d used it enough in his line of work. “A list long enough that it’s useless. We don’t have time or the manpower to go through it.”

Lanning dropped his phone back in
his pocket. “Worse. Wright was just found shot to death.”

“What are we waiting on?”

“A phone call telling you where to go. There’s nothing we can do at the crime scene except get sidetracked.”

“We’re doing nothing here. They might miss clues Jo has left. I can’t just sit here like a useless—” Levi crunched an empty water bottle and caught himself before slamming it down the hall.
He’d been purposefully calm for half an hour. The officer had relaxed. One sliver of information and he could search for Jo himself.

“We still have twenty-three minutes before he’s supposed to call.” Lanning turned to the men inside the room. “What have you got on the names and dates? Anything you’ve found, I need it now.”

Levi followed Lanning to the doorway, entering the room slowly,
not wanting anyone to realize he shouldn’t be there.

“I can’t find any connection,” someone sitting in front of a screen said.

“What happened in February 1988 with the savings and loan crisis in Texas?” Levi asked. “Frasier’s main clients were S and L trustees or owners. Concentrate on Texas.”

“New regs, a bailout, fifty percent office vacancy and real estate prices collapse,” the
tech said.

“Money,” Levi and Lanning said together.

Lanning lifted a hand to stop the agent who made a move to escort Levi back to the hall.

“What does this have to do with now?” Levi asked.

“I can cross-reference...”

“It happened again. We’re calling it the housing crisis, but it’s basically the same. Someone wants to make certain their part of it stays hidden.” Barlow
moved closer to the group. “Frasier hid the evidence.”

Levi sided up to Jo’s phone, activated the screen and in between the heated discussion on possible theories, he managed to get the GPS code from the note section.

“No one with these names was involved publicly with that crisis. There’s nothing I can locate in the database.”

“Miller February 1988 and Phillips March 1988,” Levi
repeated. “What are we not seeing? What did Frasier stumble across?” He returned to lean on the doorframe, keeping an eye on the cop who was supposed to be keeping an eye on him.

“If you go back to the file, notes from the original investigation said Frasier’s records were boxed,” Barlow said.

“Yes, but they’ve all been microfilmed by the DoJ.”

“Don’t you see? Her office was switching
to digital in the nineties,” Barlow interrupted. “Where could she have hidden paper files?”

“Wendell Miller and Frank Phillips died eight days apart, sir. Miller was a vice president at a failed S and L and Phillips was an appraiser. I haven’t found a connection to the Frasier family.”

“With the exception that they died less than a week later,” Levi pointed out.

“That’s too close
to be coincidental. A banker, an appraiser and an attorney who specialized in realty,” Lanning said. “Find the common denominator and make it fast.”

Levi had what he needed. Names. A hint of what might have happened. Something to mislead the kidnappers for an exchange.

While everyone in the room was excitedly throwing out theories, he glanced over his shoulder and the cop was talking
at the end of the hall. Levi stepped the opposite direction, easing himself around another corner to an emergency exit.

A flight of stairs and a side door. Lanning’s truck.

They could follow, but he had his head start.

His phone rang.

“Cooper.”

An address and time were given by the distorted voice. The meeting place wouldn’t matter if Jo activated the GPS. When she did,
he could take them by surprise by intercepting her. “Come on, Jo. Turn on your rescue.”

* * *

TEXT MESSAGE: Send Anonymously 9:14 P.M.

I have the girl, but there is a problem. At arranged meeting place.

TEXT MESSAGE: Blocked Sender 9:17 P.M.

I’ll be downstairs momentarily.

* * *

T
HEY
’
D
REMOVED
J
OLENE
’
S
coat and already taken her dad’s carving. The frightening
men had placed headphones over her ears. The thundering music had given her an obnoxious headache. She didn’t know how long she’d been in the smelly van. A bit of fresh air entered occasionally when the driver took a look inside.

Since her hands were handcuffed to a metal slot behind her, it had taken the entire time to get to the bottom of her foot. Maneuvering under constant watch had made
it even more difficult than she’d originally hoped.

Cold and shaking, she pulled off her shoe. Yanking at the lump in her sock, working it until she could feel the little switch to turn the locater on. Then she relaxed. It was done. If anyone was watching for her GPS they could find her now.

Wherever that might be.

“Come on, Levi.” She desperately prayed her plan would work.
It
should work. It has to work.

Rolling her shoulders, she tried to work through the pain and stiffness. The windowless van grew darker and smaller with each beat of her heart. A horrible closed-in feeling took control. She couldn’t move. The thundering in her ears faded to a thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

No longer in the van, she saw the white inside boards of the toy box her
father had built. She could see her name—
EMALINE
—in thick crayon, a child’s first writing attempt. Somehow the toys stayed on the floor, and her blanket and pillow were inside with her. They always were.

I’m not really here. I’m not really here.
She could tell herself over and over again, but she couldn’t force her eyes open to see anything else and the feeling trapped her in the past.

Real memory? Imagined because of what Levi had told her?

Rainbows. Lots of rainbows. Her mother smiled—just a blurred image of dark hair and happiness. She didn’t want to leave the rainbows. Her mother laughed and said she’d bring them in her pocket. Grownups laughed with her saying it was fine.

Pop. Then another. The men fell. Her mother screamed. “Mama!” she heard a young, small
voice—shrill and hysterical. Pinned. Held. Watching. Her mother screamed to shut her eyes. The door opened. She broke free, went to her mother. Heard her father yell, “Run!”

The crayon
EMALINE
was covered in dripping red. She’d been in the toy box,
after
she’d been in the kitchen. The lid was closed. Her cheeks were wet. She swiped her tiny fingers at the wood over and over. She’d been in
the kitchen. She’d run upstairs to her room.

A voice called to her. Coaxing her to come out. What were they saying? Why couldn’t she understand?

The memory shattered and stopped. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dark inside of the van again and she could hear voices. Real voices, not those from her childhood.

“Don’t argue—If you’d killed her—wouldn’t be in—situation.”

Jo could
hear words during the lull of the screaming music. A woman—just out of Jo’s view—raised her voice. The man arguing with her was the one who had shot LuLu. She hadn’t seen the driver’s face or heard him speak. He stood with his back next to the van, in front of the cracked side door, continuing his silence.

“We—found Elaine’s—”

Using her shoulder, Jo shoved at the headphones, moving one
off her ear.

“Both. Do you understand?” the woman commanded.

“She was five,” said the driver.

“That’s no longer the case.” The woman added a distinguishing snort of disgust. “Why did you need to see me before finishing this project?”

“The marshal demanded to meet with you. That wasn’t in the plan. He says he has evidence to exchange.”

“If the FBI had anything, they would
have already contacted my office searching for me. You’re an idiot and I don’t know why I’ve continued to do business with you.”

“My brother and I have your secrets stored in a safe place.”

His attitude sent shivers down Jo’s spine. The shooter had looked so evil, but now sounded even more so.

“Question her and the marshal and then make their bodies disappear. We need to be extremely
careful over the next few months. No contact.”

“Right.”

“I’m returning to the dinner and don’t want to be disturbed again. Take care of this problem and earn your share. We’ve been successful for longer than that stupid girl’s been alive and will continue to be once she’s dead.”

The sound of the woman’s heels echoing through the empty space sent more shivers through her body than
when LuLu had been shot.
Kill us and make us disappear.
How many people had died at this man’s hands? Because of this woman?

“We go to the meet...No, we shouldn’t risk disposing of the bodies in the same spot.” He paused as if he was having a conversation with the driver still at the door of the van. “Maybe a trip to Louisiana, bodies don’t resurface from those swamps. I’ve got your back.
You can trust your big brother.”

She had to get out of there. Her plan had been the most stupid plan on earth.

“Right, I knew you’d like that idea. We’ll divide and conquer when we meet up with her boyfriend. I’m taking a leak, then we’re moving out. Is the bat in front or back?”

She flexed and pointed her toes, fighting the effects from being motionless. Shaking would alert her
captors and she didn’t want them to know she was ready to escape. She also worked the headphone back onto her ear. There’d be aspirin for the headache when she escaped. It was better if they didn’t know she’d overheard them. The evil-grinned man opened the side door wider and removed the baseball bat. His leer made her stomach turn and she looked past him to see a parking garage sign and pillar.

Jo thought she’d have a stronger emotional reaction to them. Hate the murderers clearly responsible for the deaths of her parents. Be scared they planned to kill Levi. But she didn’t panic. Didn’t head to a dark, horrible memory.

Instead she went to those moments in the motor home bedroom, glad to remember anything good. And the time she’d had with Levi was wonderful, gave her strength.
He’d find her. These men underestimated not only her determination, but everything about the man she loved.

The door was shut. Locked. In order to save her sanity she worked the headphones off her head. Despite her chill, enough moisture had accumulated on her lip to help her loosen the tape. She pulled and stretched her mouth, slowly working her way free to warn Levi before he found them.

Her plan had definitely put Levi in danger...but she couldn’t stand the thought he’d be ambushed and beaten.

He’d come.

Levi would keep his promise.

* * *

L
EVI
EXITED
I
NTERSTATE
30 and was caught at a light behind another car. He enlarged the map on his phone and verified that the location of the GPS was directly in front of him, about five miles north of where he was supposed
to meet the kidnappers.

The Dallas Convention Center loomed against the backdrop of city lights with cars lining the street for a function. He spotted the words
Academy
and
Fine Arts
but headed straight on the frontage road until he came to a security booth.

“Excuse me.” He waited on the older man sitting inside to step outside into the cold. “Have any trouble with extra vehicles hanging
around or anything out of place tonight?”

“Just as borin’ as always.”

“What’s going on back there?” He tilted his head toward the Academy.

“Political fundraiser. Lots of big wigs. Lots of extra security.”

Levi flipped his marshal ID open for the man to look over. “Mind if I take a look around?”

“Go right ahead. Makes me no never mind.” The disinterested guard stepped back
into the booth and shut the door.

Levi drove the truck just inside the entrance and parked, dialing Lanning.

“About time you checked in.”

“I assume you know I’m following the signal to the Convention Center?” Levi had already seen Lanning’s supplies in the locked toolbox. He used the key and pulled out an FBI issued vest.

“We’re ten minutes out. Wait for backup.”

“Can’t.
They’ll pull out for the exchange soon. No police. I need the edge.” He finished the pulls.

“Cooper—”

“No cops, Lanning. You know they’ll kill her.”

No more wasted time on conversation. Using his phone to guide him closer to the GPS gadget, he ran through the parking garage keeping his weapon drawn. There was no way to tell what level the GPS was on, he could only hope the people
holding her captive had stuck to the fastest exit. The lowest floor.