Edge of the Heat 7 (11 page)

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Authors: Lisa Ladew

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Edge of the Heat 7
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Hawk turned in his seat to address Vivian, who was sitting in the back. "Do you want to go sit with Dani and JT or stay here?"

"How long will you be?"

Hawk looked at the dark house. "Not long."

"Stay here."

"OK, Craig leave her the keys. Lock the doors as soon as we get out. Drive away if anyone approaches the truck."

Vivian nodded and took the keys. Hawk and Craig left the truck, waited until they heard the click of the locks, and then approached the house quietly, but not trying to hide. As soon as they were out of the glare of the streetlights, they walked into the yard, heading down the left side of the residence. Craig tried to notice details, notice what the place looked like, but one word pounded in his brain, drowning everything else out.
Emma, Emma, Emma.
He had to rely one hundred percent on Hawk to notice the finer particulars.

No fence. That was good. They peeked in the first window they came to. Nothing. Normal furniture. Gloom. Shadows. No movement. Drapes covered the next window but a small gap showed a slice of bed that appeared to have someone in it. Troy's bedroom, probably. Craig lingered at the window, longing to smash it in with his fists and drag the man out into the yard, then beat him until he confessed where Emma was. No part of him would let him imagine that maybe Preston Troy was innocent. That maybe this was some kind of colossal coincidence. This man had Emma. Or had done something to Emma. He'd better hope Emma was still alive. Then maybe Craig would let him live too. Craig was fully prepared to give up his life and his freedom to punish the man who had ... who had ... Hawk pulled on his arm and Craig stopped his train of thought with effort.

They continued their quiet trek down the side of the house, checking every window. When they had made a complete circuit and arrived back at the front, even peeking into the basement windows and seeing nothing, Craig had to admit that it didn't seem like Emma was in the house. And if that was Troy asleep in the bedroom he wasn't doing anything to Emma right this second.

The two men walked swiftly back across the front lawn to the truck. Hawk motioned to JT and Dani to wait a moment, and then they climbed into Craig's truck to talk in privacy.

As soon as the doors were closed, Craig spoke. "He's got her. I know he does. If she's not in the house, she's somewhere else. But she could be in a closet or a bathroom or somewhere that we couldn't see. We gotta get inside."

Hawk leaned his head back against the seat rest for a long moment. Finally he spoke without lifting his head. "Nobody is going to give us a search warrant based on what we have. We need more evidence."

Craig smacked his hand against the dashboard in frustration, startling Vivian. "Then we break in. Get our evidence first and work backwards."

"Craig, no," Hawk said. "We'll go to jail."

Craig bit back his reply, which would've been
I don't give a shit
, but he did, he knew he did. If he ended up in jail he would never find Emma. Instead he turned to Hawk, trying to keep the volume of his voice below a yell. "What do we do then? We can't just sit out here like idiots. Think! One of the judges has got to owe us a favor. If we present what we have just right ..." A thought struck him and it seemed like the answer to all of their problems. "Hawk, Judge Holt will give you a search warrant if you sweet talk her. Give her what she's always wanted."

"What?" Vivian said from the backseat.

Craig turned to Vivian, not remembering who she was for a moment. "Judge Holt likes Hawk. Always has. She used to ask him out constantly. She still flirts with him even though he's married."

Vivian's voice came out strange, stilted. "Is she pretty?"

Hawk turned around in his seat. "Honey, she's seventy years old."

Vivian didn't speak for a few moments. When she finally did, her voice was light and controlled. "She would give you this search warrant if you asked her?"

Craig felt a glimmer of hope. "I think she'd do just about anything for Hawk if he promised to do something for her in return."

Vivian stared off in the distance for a moment and then leaned over the seat, grabbing Hawk by the shoulders. "I don't care what you have to do. Kiss her, take her to dinner, sleep with her, just do it. I want my sister safe."

Hawk stared at Vivian, his eyes wide, his mouth gaping.

Craig nodded viciously. At least someone else understood the stakes and was willing to do whatever it took.

 

***

 

Craig took Vivian to JT and Dani's car, then addressed everyone. "We are heading over to the judge's house. She wasn't happy about being woken up but she says she'll sign our warrant. Hawk is on the phone with her right now explaining what our basis is. We've got two police cars on their way here to sit on the house until we are ready to serve the warrant. When you see them, just leave. Go straight home and lock the doors."

"What if he leaves before the cops get here?" JT asked.

"Then you follow him and call us immediately."

"What if he approaches us?" Dani asked.

Craig stared at her for a moment, knowing JT had a gun in case things got bad, but knowing Hawk didn't want him to have to use it. "Then you show him some blood. When he passes out, run him over."

Craig turned and left, not waiting to see what kind of reaction that had stirred up.

Chapter 18

Dawn peeked it's way over the horizon as Craig and Hawk pulled back up in front of Senator Troy's house, search warrant in hand. Hawk stared at the piece of paper, hoping it was worth promising Judge Holt to escort her to her granddaughter's wedding. He prayed all she wanted that night was a companion.

Craig killed the engine and Hawk pushed the thoughts away. He needed to focus. They motioned to the two patrol officers in the car in front of the house and the four of them walked to the front porch, Hawk wondering how he was going to keep Craig under control once they got in there.

One of the officers pounded heavily on the front door.

After a moment, Preston Troy opened it, his hair messed but his face alert and watchful. "What is this about, gentlemen?" When his eyes landed on Hawk, he smiled, a thin, predatory smile that made Craig tense.

"Ah, are you coming to continue our scrap from the other night? Brought a few friends along, did you?"

Hawk clenched his teeth, reminding himself that he needed to stay calm. "We have a warrant to search the premises."

"Let me see it," Troy snapped, snatching the paper out of Hawk's hand.

Craig started forward, his eyes flaming, but Hawk held him back. Hawk watched Troy carefully. He flipped to the back page first, noting the Judge's signature, then back to the first page. His eyes narrowed but didn't give anything away. Hawk grabbed the piece of paper out of his hand before he could read the evidentiary paragraph.

Troy almost pouted, like he hadn't expected that, then raised his face to Hawk's. "Regarding the disappearance of Emma Masterson. Who is that?"

This time when Craig moved forward his intent was clear in his body language and his clenched fists. He was going to pound on Troy. Hawk moved in front of him, pushing Troy into the home. He spun Troy around and frisked him, very surprised that Troy didn't protest. When he was done, he pointed Troy to the couch. "Sit down. I'll ask the questions. Craig, you and the officers go search the house."

Craig moved into the house eagerly, leaving Troy alone. For now.

When they had left the room, Hawk glowered down at Troy. "When was the last time you saw Emma Masterson?"

"I don't know who that is," Troy said with a steady gaze.

"Do you have her here?"

"I told you. I don't know who that is, but no one is here except for me and you and your ... colleagues." He said the last word with an air of contempt that had Hawk biting the inside of his lip.

Hawk nodded his head and pulled out his notebook. "I thought you would say that," he said. "Give me your full name."

"Preston Chad Troy." Troy thought for a beat and then spoke again. "
Senator
Preston Chad Troy."

Hawk ignored that. He wouldn't be baited. "What is your mother's name?"

Troy pressed his lips together before he spoke. Hawk wondered if he had hit a nerve already. "Mary Troy."

"And your father's name?"

Troy's face colored slightly, but Hawk saw no other signs of deception. "Is this important?" Troy asked.

"Yes it is, answer the question."

"Homer Walker."

"Do you have a birth certificate here?"

"Yes, in my study."

Hawk motioned for him to stand up. "Get the birth certificate for me."

Troy left the room and walked through the kitchen to a room at the very back of the house. Hawk followed and watched carefully as he rifled through a filing cabinet drawer. He finally stood up and handed Hawk a piece of paper. The birth certificate showed the two names that he had given.

Hawk folded the piece of paper and filed it with his warrant and other paperwork. It didn't prove anything. They returned to the living room.

Craig entered the room, his face red, his fists still clenched. "The house is empty. Basement too. There's no one here."

"Check outside. Examine the items in the shed, look for a cellar or anything like it in the back yard. Search the garage and his car."

Craig disappeared again and Hawk turned back to Troy. He might as well ask the million dollar question. He saw very little signs of lying in Troy's mannerisms, but the man was an ex-cia agent. He was a trained liar. "Are you related to Frank Oberlin?"

Hawk watched closely, but Troy didn't react at all.

"Senator Oberlin? No."

"Would you be willing to take a lie detector test to that effect?"

"Of course," Troy said, then shot to his feet. Hawk tensed, ready to lay the man out flat if he had to.

"I think I've had enough of this. I'm not answering anymore questions until my lawyer gets here. I've already told you I've never heard of this woman and you can plainly see my house is empty. So unless you want to find yourself in hot water with your boss, I suggest you leave now."

Hawk stared him down, trying to read his mind. "You sure you want to do that?"

Troy's eyes moved past him to the picture window at the front of the house. The dismay in them made Hawk turn that way also. A news van had stopped in front of the house and the reporters inside were beginning to unload all their gear.

"Great," both men said.

"Let's move into the kitchen,
Mr.
Troy," Hawk said, emphasizing the Mr. Maybe if he got this guy riled up, he would spill something.

As they reached the kitchen, stepping inside out of the view of the reporters, Craig met them there. He looked at Hawk, his frustration palpable. "Nothing. It's all clean."

"Well then, it's time to go, isn't it?" Troy said in a false cheery voice.

Craig turned to him and before Hawk could even think about stopping him, Craig grabbed Troy by the neck and slammed him against the wall. "Where's my wife?!" he shouted, his face an inch away from Troy's.

Hawk grabbed Craig's elbow and pulled, speaking softly to him. The two uniformed officers crowded into the doorway, both looking at each other in alarm but not moving to stop Craig.

Hawk felt dismay building in his chest. Troy's face was swiftly turning purple. His hands scrabbled at Craig's arm, but his movements were weak and ineffective against Craig's rage.

Hawk peeled at Craig's fingers. "You gotta stop man, you gotta let him go. Think of Emma. Craig, please, man."

With a heave, Craig threw Troy to the floor by his throat. Troy caught himself on hands and knees and coughed and gasped. The four men looked at him, waiting for his next move. Hawk knew they were done there. They had found nothing to point them forward.

Troy stood, his throat flaring an angry purple. Craig had one more thing to say to him. "When I find out you are lying, I will kill you."

Troy backed up, out of Craig's reach, then his eyes fell on the two police officers. "That was pure assault, you saw it! Arrest this man!"

The officers didn't move. Troy leaned against the wall, still trying to catch his breath. "I'm calling the governor," he choked out, yanking his phone from his pocket.

Craig took a giant step towards him, causing Troy to throw up his arms to shield himself. Craig plucked his phone out of his fingers and sailed it side arm across the room. Glass tinkled to the floor as the phone crashed through a window and disappeared.

Troy faced him down, his body shaking in fear and rage. "That just cost you your job."

Hawk grabbed Craig before he could try to kill Troy again and steered him towards the kitchen door, into the living room. "We're done here. Let's regroup." The police officers followed, as Troy screamed threats at them from the kitchen.

Craig didn't want to leave and Hawk knew it. He was hesitating, pulling out of Hawk's grip. Hawk knew they had nothing more to go on, but what could they do? Nothing had been found in the house. Choking the man hadn't caused him to confess. His mind worked on a plan as he opened the front door and stepped out to face the reporters. "Look Craig, we'll go figure out what other properties he owns or is connected to. This isn't over. We'll tail him. We'll—"

Hawk's phone rang in his pocket and something told him to answer it. No one had the number but a few people. He kept walking onto the porch, turning to make sure Craig was following, ignoring the reporters who were shouting questions at him. Craig was following, but he was holding the door open for the two police officers, his eyes shooting daggers back at Troy who had emerged from the kitchen and was watching Craig warily. The two cops passed through the doorway. Craig threw one last, murderous look at Troy, then followed.

"Lo?" Hawk said, without checking to see who was calling. His eyes were plastered on his friend.

"There's a panic room in that house," Knox's voice said.

Hawk's churning mind took only a nanosecond to register what Knox had said and what the implications were. He was afraid it was already too late though. The search warrant had been served. They had exited the house. Once the door closed behind them they would need to pull another warrant in order to stay legal, and Troy probably knew that. He was at the inner door, swinging it shut already.

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