UNSEEN (11 page)

Angela grabbed her binoculars and made a quick scan of the grounds; it would make matters less complicated if she could locate Mark Phillips before stepping on site.

There were only eight men visible inside the hollow ribcage of the building. Three of them were poring cement near the back. The one who had his back turned was of average height, with a lean build. His pose resembled the slight leaning stance of the serial killer while his white work helmet gave the appearance of a mask.

"
I think I see him," she said. "He’s pouring cement near the back." She set the binoculars on the seat and got out of the car. Perez came around and joined her.

"
As soon as we step inside, the foreman is going to make a bee line toward us and tell us we need a helmet. I want you to play interference." They started across the street. "I don't want Mark to know we’re coming, so let's enter through that right door where the plastic is." She pointed.

They crossed the dirt parking lot, keeping an eye on the three men at the rear of the building, and entered through the right door. The smell of dust and dirt filled Angela's nostrils. In the surprising quiet of the construction site, she could hear the dirt crunching between her shoes and the cement floor. Some of the men were eating lunch, and two others were pouring over a blueprint laid out on a piece of plywood between two sawhorses.

One by one heads turned toward them, and soon all eyes were watching. Angela kept her eyes fixed on Mark Phillips. He set a bag of cement down in front of him, wiped his forehead with the back of his dirty grey hand, and looked up. His first expression was one of confusion, but when she held her badge up, it changed to fear.

"
Mark Phillips, I'm Special Agent Angela Grant with the FBI. I need to ask you a few questions." Her voice reflected off cement and metal.

Mark took a step backwards, and Perez said under his breath. "He’s gonna run isn’t he? Tell me he's not gonna run."

With that, Mark bolted toward the rear door. Angela and Perez took off after him.

"
I hate it when they run!" shouted Perez. He was a muscular Mexican with a little extra meat around the midsection; great for breaking down doors, but not so great for chasing criminals. Angela’s full bodied figure wasn't ideal for chasing down criminals either, but she tended to surprise her colleagues by how quickly she could move.

Angela cut through the center of the building in a dead sprint, then slowed at the rear door opening. The way was clear. Mark was sliding down the embankment immediately behind the building.

"
Stop! We just want to ask you some questions!"

He continued to slide, so she slid down after him. The sharp gravel bit through her pants and into her hand. Perez ran along the bank and headed down to cut Mark off. There were only two choices, head toward the parking lot on the other side of the road that skirted the embankment, or run down the road and enter the residential neighborhood.

Mark Phillips got to the road and looked back. Agent Grant was halfway down the embankment. There was no way he was going to make it to the houses, so he jumped the guardrail and ran across the parking lot. At the far end was a fitness center, and beyond that a tree line. If he got to the tree line, he might lose them.

Angela hit the bottom of the embankment hard and regained her footing. As she ran her hand ripped the radio from the velcro on her belt and she brought it to her mouth. "Suspect is fleeing on foot to Boyd's Gym! We need backup!" She leaped over the guardrail. He was only one row ahead of her. If she dug in, she might be able to catch him.

Her heart pounded in her ears, her nose and lungs burned with each breath. Slowly the gap between them closed. But it wasn't enough. He made it to the gym and ran up the stairs and through the door.

Angela followed. She cut right and ran up two flights of stairs to see Mark running down a wide hallway with a Plexiglas view of racquetball courts on his left and tanning bed rooms on his right.

"
Stop him!" she yelled as she pursued him past the check-in counter and down a tight stairway beyond. At the bottom she lost him briefly at the convergence of three large rooms and a hallway lined with lockers, but picked him up again after passing beyond a divider wall. He was headed to the back of a workout room, and a red door with a glowing exit sign above it.

"
Stop that man!" she screamed.

A burly Italian man in spandex pushed backwards from his treadmill and slammed hard into Mark, sending him flying into the wall. He scrambled to get his footing, but the muscle builder was on him.

Angela gulped for air as she helped the Italian turn Mark onto his stomach. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do or say can be used against you in a court of law..."

Chapter 12

Jake stopped by Dan's and grabbed the laptop before heading over to his apartment building. There was no sign of the little girl out front or in the east wing of the old school house, so he headed back over to the west and caught the elevator just as it was starting to close.

Inside was a red-haired woman he recognized from his floor, and at her side was a strawberry blond girl with the greenest eyes Jake had ever seen. She smiled up at him.

He smiled back.

"
Hi,” she said, blinking up at him. "I'm Abby, and this is my mom."

The woman looked up briefly and offered a weak wave. "Hey," she said.

"
Hey, how’s it going?" said Jake.

He stepped on the elevator and stood sideways to them. There was an awkward quiet for a moment as the doors closed and the elevator launched upward.

"
I've seen you around," said the redhead. "You're on my floor, right?"

"
Yeah. Just up the hall."

Again there was silence. The elevator came to a stop.

"
Well, maybe we'll see each other around." She was trying to be upbeat, but Jake could tell something was bothering her.

"
I imagine we will," he said.

"
Bye," said the little girl.

Jake gave her a little wave. "Bye."

They went left, and Jake went forward.

Rounding the corner, he saw the that the end of his hallway was filled with household items and moving boxes. The door across from his apartment was open, and a man with a box disappeared inside. Sitting near his door, on a milk crate, was an eight- or nine-year-old brown-haired girl, drawing on a tablet in her lap.

"
Moving in?" said Jake as he approached.

She looked up from her tablet. Her eyes twinkled. "Yup. Just moved in."

Jake fished in his pocket for his keys. "What are you drawing?"

She tilted the pad to give him a better view. It looked like a bird rising out of the water, but it was unfinished, so he couldn’t be sure. The details were impressive. She had blended the pencil marks with her fingers, creating gradients in the feathers, which gave them a beautiful three-dimensional look.

"
You drew that?"

"
I'm going to be an artist," she said, matter-of-factly.

"
Well, you're on the right track. That’s beautiful."

"
Thanks." She turned the pad back, and continued to blend the colors.

Jake found his key and put it in the door. "Well, it was nice to meet you."

"
Nice to meet you too," she said, scratching and rubbing the thick drawing paper.

"
I'm Jake, by the way."

She glanced up. "I'm Aiyana."

"
That's a pretty name."

"
I'm named after my great grandmother. She was an Indian."

He chuckled at the blunt manner in which she said it. "Well, I'm sure I’ll see you around."

"
I'll probably be right here," she said. "I like the way the sun comes through the windows and makes a pattern on the rug."

Jake had never noticed before, but Aiyana was right. It was rather spectacular how the dozen-or-so tiny windows laid a pattern of shadows and light on the dingy maroon rug. In spots, the sun warmed the color to a bright red.

"
You notice things," he said.

She looked up sheepishly. "I see more than I like."

It was an odd answer, but he didn't have time to pursue the questioning. It wasn't chance that brought him to his apartment, but rather nature reminding him that this might be his only chance to take care of business.

He entered his apartment and almost knocked Jenna over.

"
I thought you were going to be at the theater all day?"

"
There was an accident."

It took him a moment to digest her words. He was well past his quota for freak occurrences.

"
Nothing bad," she added. "Mina rolled her ankle. The doctor thinks she has a fracture."

Jake could see the mixed emotion waging war on Jenna's face. She felt bad for her friend, but Jenna was Mina’s understudy, and this accident could mean a huge opportunity for her. She needed Jake to give her happiness a stamp of approval. "It's okay,” he said, "you can be happy."

Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm sorry. This is just so overwhelming. My life is changing so quickly, and I don't know how to process."

"
Just take a deep breath, and tell me what happened." He was always playing damage control when it came to anything emotional.

She took a deep breath, as instructed, and said, "Mina came in this morning, and there was a lot of discussion about the scout showing up today, and the director decided to run lines with Mina instead of me. I was bummed of course, but happy for Mina. This scout is from a major touring company, and I would be happy if either one of us got called up.

"
I stayed back stage and helped in every way I could. It was so exciting, Jake. We were all trying to get a peek out the curtain and get a glimpse of the scout. She was sitting with the director in the eighth row.

"
Anyway, at the end of act one the director asked me to run lines for act two. I couldn't believe it, and Mina was so supportive. She helped me get dressed and prepped. She really is an incredible friend."

Jenna stopped for a second to regain her composure and wipe tears from the corners of her eyes. Mina was the closest thing Jenna had to a best friend, they hung out quite a bit, and Jake liked her too. The last time the three of them were together it was for dinner and karaoke at the pub downtown. They’d all laughed so hard his side ached the whole next day.

Jenna continued: "After act two we took a break and Mina and I went into the dressing room. That's when we met the scout face to face! She said we both did a wonderful job, and that we were way better than anyone she had seen this year, and if it were up to her, she would offer us both a contract but she only had one contract to give.” A conflicted look flashed in Jenna’s eyes. "She offered it to Mina. She has more experience than I do, and the scout was looking for someone who had shown the ability to handle the rigorous hours and crazy travel schedule. But..."

She stopped to catch her breath.

"
But—she tripped over a prop and rolled her ankle in the third act. If the doctor says she needs a cast, not only will I get the lead in this production, but the scout says she’ll draw up a contract for me this week!"

Jenna’s shoulders slumped. "I'm so conflicted. I don't want to hope Mina broke her ankle!"

"
It's not like you broke it." He lowered his eyes. "You didn't break it—did you?"

She smacked him. "No. I didn't break it."