G-Men: The Series (77 page)

Slate told him the lab could give him what he needed to know and got up to leave. Davey had told him any chemist could translate what was on the paper, but it was only partially there.

Slate questioned him as to what was missing.

“One key ingredient,” he’d told him. “It resides right here.” Davey had pointed to his head.

“Why would you have done that?”

“It was a matter of trust,” Davey told him. “I trusted no one, and with good reason it seems.”

Slate finally sealed the deal, telling Davey he didn’t have the authority to reduce his sentence. However, he did have enough clout to see that the rest of his sentence was served in a cell with a new roommate named “Bubba.”

After describing “Bubba,” along with his sexual idiosyncrasies and showing him a photo of a current inmate fitting that description, the small-framed, lightweight chemist was amenable to assisting.

The formula, minus the key ingredient, had been concocted and successfully tested as an “organelle” to develop a hybrid for Khat, a plant that’s legal to harvest in places like Kenya, Somali, and Ethiopia.

Apparently, the leaves of the Khat plant contain cathinone, a potent amphetamine which is illegal in the U.S. When the leaves of the plant are picked, they dry within 48 hours, and the decomposition quickly reduces the potency of cathinone to cathine. The Khat plant takes seven to eight years to reach full height and potential. The plants can be harvested four times a year.

According to Davey, the organelle that was developed allowed a mutation to occur during cross-pollination with the host Khat plant. The hybrid, or prototype, allowed the leaves to stay at max potency for thirty days or longer, which of course, made the value increase a hundred-fold.

Davey said that it was Susan who had approached him on the development, and provided him with the initial composition research conducted by another individual. Davey couldn’t recall the name of that individual. He claimed that Jack had not been part of this scheme initially, and that in fact, Susan had implicitly told him to involve no one else.

Somehow, right before the bust had taken place, Jack had gotten wind of it. It had caused a major argument between Jack and Susan that Davey had witnessed.

Susan had promised Davey some major bucks if the prototype was a success. He scoffed while sitting there talking to Slate about it.

He asked Slate when that bitch was going to get her just desserts. Slate told him he may have to be satisfied with karma as no one had a clue where she was.

“At least I know that nothing can come of that formula,” Davey had spat. “And there’s no way in hell I’m giving up the missing ingredient.”

Slate didn’t care about the missing ingredient. He only wanted to find the perps who had commissioned the development.

When Slate returned from the interview, he and I discussed the cathine. That was the powdery substance that had been on the roses. What the fuck? My money said Susan and Jack were back in the country.

I turned the basketball game on, putting the notes aside for now. I’d spent enough time for one day learning about cathine, organelles, and slimy criminals that had slipped through the cracks. The clock said it was going on ten. Yep, she was sleeping it off.

I dozed off at some point. I was sleeping deeply when my cell phone roused me. I felt my hand groping for it on the night stand.

Shit, it was after midnight.

Fine time to be feeling better, Lindsey.

I saw that it was Slate. “Yeah,” I answered, running my fingers through my hair.

“Hey, Taz, sorry to be calling you so late,” he apologized. “I don’t get a lot done until the rug rat is down, and tonight he was raring to go until after ten. Anyway, don’t know if you saw the data Kim pulled and sent to us from those manifests?”

“Actually, no. I haven’t been on my computer for the last couple of hours.”

“Well, it just came in. She has narrowed the importers of record for the particular shipments from Ethiopia which are the likely candidates for the illegal cargo down to two.”

“Yeah?”

“One’s located in Newark, New Jersey. It’s called “Happy Time Beverages.” The portfolio indicates it’s a processing plant of various international teas and coffees. Maybe that’s not all this place processes.”

“Yeah,” I replied, “being in Newark alone makes that place suspect. What’s the other one?”

“Just one of those alphabet companies with not much available detail. It’s called “SKS Enterprises.” It’s a Limited Liability Corporation in Georgia. Kim said she’d dig further tomorrow during business hours with the Secretary of State’s office. I just wanted to make sure you were updated.”

“Georgia,” I said, “I think Stanfield Group has a subsidiary in Georgia.”

“Well, I’ll see if Kim can tie it in when she gets with the office in Atlanta tomorrow.”

“Yeah, right. So, is that it then?”

“Uh, yeah, I just need to know what time Lindsey plans on being home in the morning. I can’t leave until she gets here.”

“What? Lindsey isn’t here.”

“Where is she?”

“She should be there. She texted me earlier saying she didn’t feel well and was going to lie down.”

“Hold on,” he said.

I waited while Slate went to check, my pulse was quickening; a feeling of uneasiness crept in.

He was back in a couple of moments.

“She’s not here, neither is her car.”

Holy fuck.

“I need to get online and check the GPS in her car. Call her cell and track it. If you get nothing, call Darcy.”

I went in to agent mode just like that. I fired my laptop up and pulled the GPS screen up. Her car was sitting in the parking lot of Applebee’s on the loop. I did a “Bird’s Eye View” and zoomed in. There it was.

Instinctively, I pulled up the GPS on Kyzer Stanfield’s car. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was several hundred miles away in Marietta, Georgia. My relief was short-lived. Slate called back.

“Yeah?”

“Her phone’s disabled. Darcy said when she left Applebee’s Kyzer Stanfield had just come in to meet with Lindsey. She was expecting him.”

Double mother-fucking shit!

“We need to get to Marietta, Georgia, Slate.”

“What?”

“I put GPS on the mother-fucker’s car. That’s where it is. I just checked. Lindsey’s car is still parked at Applebee’s. I just verified that.”

“Calm down. We have to follow protocol, here.”

“What the fuck are you saying, Slate?”

“I’m saying we follow procedure. We don’t know that any crime has been committed, so we follow the process.”

“Fuck that,” I said. “I’m leaving for Marietta. That psycho has her.”

“Taz,” he bellowed, “listen to me. I’ll get the locals to check her vehicle, okay? Let’s make sure we cover that angle. I’ll have them question the people at the restaurant, workers, regulars, anyone that might have been there. I’ll file a missing person’s report. You need to calm down, though. You can’t go off half-cocked.”

I nodded, covering my face with my free hand. I knew he was right. I needed to put my emotions aside and follow the evidence.

“Okay. Sit tight while I contact the authorities. I’ll phone you back in just a few.”

The few minutes that it took for Slate to put the investigation in motion seemed like hours. All I could think about was that Lindsey had been abducted, and I knew who had done it.

When he called a few minutes later, he advised me that the local authorities were on it. The car was being towed to impound. There was no visual sign of foul play. They would be contacting the employees that had been on that shift first thing in the morning.

In the meantime, Slate had contacted the authorities in Charlottesville to question Kyzer Stanfield.

“He’s not in Charlottesville,” I said, getting impatient.

“You don’t know that for sure. Maybe he doesn’t have that particular car at school. The family’s wealthy, right? We have to close out the obvious first.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I snapped, wanting to put my fist through the phone. Time was precious. Lindsey was precious. Then I thought of Sammie.

“Slate,” my voice cracked for some reason, “what are you going to tell Sammie?”

“God, I don’t know,” he replied. “I’ve got to get Donna scheduled in for the morning. Try and sleep. There’s nothing we can do until we get updates from the locals here and in Charlottesville.”

I knew he was right. We had nothing that would support a warrant. Besides, Stanfield knew that he’d be the first person suspected since Darcy knew he’d been there with Lindsey when she left. He wasn’t stupid.

^{chapter 41}

My eyelids were still heavy. It felt like sand had been poured into my eyes. My mouth was dry like cotton. I kept opening and closing my eyelids to drive the sand out.

The room was dark. There was a window, but the sun-filtering blinds were closed tight. I had no clue where I was. My mind was fuzzy…worse than any hangover fuzzy.

I figured out I was on a bed. My arms were up over my head. I was wearing only my bra and panties. I tried to move my arms and couldn’t. My wrists were tied to something. I jerked harder. All that did was to cause the ropes to dig into my skin. I realized my hands were tied to a spindled headboard that slammed against the wall when I tugged at my restraints.

My ankles were tied together too, I soon realized.

What the hell is going on?

I tried to stop the panic momentarily. I needed to think. What was the last thing I remembered?

Okay. I had lunch with Darcy. When was that? My mind raced. Then I was with Kyzer. That’s right. Darcy left right after Kyzer got to Applebee’s. Kyzer and I talked. I didn’t give him the copy of the paper from Banion. I lied and told him I’d left it at home. Then I went to the restroom. I didn’t recall anything after that.

I jerked my arms again, causing the headboard to bang against the wall loudly. The skin on my wrists was burning from the rope. I heard a key in the door to this room turning. The door opened and shut. I saw a shadowy figure coming closer. Was it still Sunday? I seemed to be in a bedroom, but whose?

A light switch sounded and the room was illuminated. It was Kyzer standing next to the bed, looking down at me.

“Good evening,” he said, a hollow smile on his lips. “Did you nap well? You slept through our nice, private little plane ride earlier. I told the pilot you were drunk.”

He laughed at that.

“Kyzer,” my voice croaked. My throat was burning. “What is this?”

“Why, this is your room for now. My stepmother and I want you to be our guest for a little while. We need to figure some things out.”

“What kind of things?”

He ignored me, coming over and sitting down on the bed, putting his index finger on my lips. “Shhh,” he said, “enough questions. From here on out, I’ll do the talking. I think introductions are in order first.”

I heard the door open again. A tall, thin woman with short, dark hair came in. I studied her for just a moment. Her hair had been cut and dyed a dark brown, her make-up had changed to something more exotic, but I recognized her
. It was Susan!

“Nice to see you again, Lindsey. How have you been?”

“Susan?”

“This is my step-mother. I’d like you to meet Sue Ellen Stanfield. I’ve told you a lot about her—all good things, of course.”

I watched in horror as Susan turned and smiled at him. He closed the distance between them and they kissed, long and passionately. I was sickened.

“So,” Susan said, her attention turned back to me once again. “You’ve done a great service to us. We’ve been looking for that formula. It wasn’t in any of your father’s belongings that he left behind in Mexico.”

“Where’s my dad?”

“You tell us. We were certain you were harboring him at some point. At the very least, I’m certain he’s been in touch with you.”

“Were you lying to me about that, Lindsey?” Kyzer asked, his voice like acid.

I shook my head back and forth. My arms were cramping up with tension. Kyzer pulled his arm back, bringing it forward quickly to backhand me across the face.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, bitch!”

“I’m not,” I said. “I haven’t seen or heard from him at all. I mean, he might have sent the roses, but that’s the only contact he’s made, and I’m not even certain of that.”

“We sent the roses, you little fool,” Susan spat. “We figured it would flush him out. He would have understood the meaning behind the message on the card. He would have known what the powder on the stems meant.”

“If you haven’t been in touch, how did you get the formula that he had, that we needed?” Kyzer asked.

“It was in a locked metal box we moved from Indy. The key turned up inside something he’d given me as a child.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, slapping me again with an open palm.

“It’s the truth!” I screamed. “He must’ve put it there while we still lived in Indy, before he fled with your step-mother,” I spat, throwing a look of utter contempt at Susan.

“Ooh, Kyzer. I think your little friend here needs to learn some respect for Step-Mommy, don’t you?”

“I think you might be right, Suzy, a lesson in respect and honesty. The little bitch lied to me about forgetting the formula, lied to me about that fed she’s been fucking, and I’ll bet she’s lying to me now. Shall I provide the lesson?”