Unseen (41 page)

He told Faith, “Track my phone. Maybe the roads will show up on the military GPS.”

“I’m on it,” Faith said. “Call me when you get there.”

Will ended the call and tossed his phone onto the seat. Then he thought better of it and jammed the phone into his back pocket. As long as the trip to Cayla’s had felt the night before, the trip this
morning seemed unending. The road spread out ahead of him. It felt like half an hour passed before he saw the trailer park. Kids were out playing in the yard. Will slowed, looking at their faces, checking for Benjamin. They all stared back. Some of them headed home. They’d probably been taught to run if a strange man ever looked at them twice.

The steering wheel jerked as the BMW hit a large pothole. Will fought the turn, overcorrecting. He straightened the tires just in time for another loud bump as the wheels finally hit solid pavement. He was in the subdivision now. The empty lots and unfinished building sites were even more desolate in the light of day. Fortunately, Will could easily see the cluster of completed houses. He skidded to a stop in front of Cayla’s driveway. There was no car there. He jumped out of the BMW. He checked the windows to the garage. Empty.

Will dialed Faith’s number as he ran up the front walk. He said, “I’m here. There’s no car. The house looks empty.”

“The cops from last night are on their way. They’ve got two more cruisers with them. I know you don’t have your gun. Wait for backup.”

“I’m not waiting.” Will ended the call. He stepped back from the front door, then kicked it open. “Benjamin?” he called. His voice echoed through the house. “Benjamin?”

Will opened the coat closet. He checked the back wall to make sure there wasn’t a hidden panel. Next, he went into the garage. The space was unfinished, just the structural studs. There were no hiding places.

The kitchen looked the same as the night before. Will’s cleaned plate was still on the table. The pots and pans were still on the stove. Tony Dell’s beer cans were stacked on the counter.

“Benjamin?” Will called. He took the stairs two at a time. He stopped outside the bathroom, but didn’t go in. There was a surface bolt on one of the bedroom doors. A heavy-duty combination lock held it closed.

“Benjamin?” Will banged on the door. “It’s Mr. Black from last night. I’m a police officer. I’m here to help you.” The lock was secured with bolts, not screws. There was no way for Will to pry it loose. “Benjamin, I need you to stand back. I’m going to break open the door.”

Will waited a few seconds, then raised his foot and kicked the door. The lock rattled against the wood. He kicked again. The wood around the jamb started to splinter. He raised his foot and kicked it again. Then again. Finally, by sheer repetition, he was able to break apart the wood. The door popped back on its hinges. The knob stuck in the sheetrock.

Benjamin was chained to the floor. He was sitting in the corner, his back to the wall. He was obviously terrified.

“It’s okay,” Will told him. “I’m a police officer. I’m here to help you.”

Benjamin didn’t respond. Will quickly took in the situation. A pair of handcuffs linked the boy’s ankle to the chain. The end was attached to an eyehook screwed into the floor. Someone had doused it with Liquid Nails to keep the boy from backing out the screw. Probably Tony. It seemed like the kind of half-ass job he’d do. Tony should’ve thought about the fact that Benjamin wouldn’t have anywhere to use the toilet. The wood had softened from urine. Will easily wrenched the hook out of the floor.

Then he heard a car door slam shut.

Will ran to the front window. Paul Vickery got out of a white Honda. He had a gun in his hand.

“Shit,” Will muttered. He should’ve known Vickery was involved in this.

Will took out his iPhone. He asked Benjamin, “Do you know how to send a text message?”

Benjamin nodded, his eyes still wide with terror.

“You’re going to send a text to my partner.” Will swiped the screen. He selected the right app, then dialed Faith’s number before handing the phone to Benjamin. “Type in your name. Tell her
that you’re hiding in Cayla’s house. Tell her to hurry.” Will scooped up Benjamin in his arms as he left the room. There was an attic hatch in the hall. Will had seen it when he stood at the top of the stairs. He held Benjamin up. The boy didn’t have to be told what to do. He pushed open the hatch and climbed into the attic.

Will told him, “Don’t make any noise. If they find you, don’t go anywhere without that phone. Do you understand? It’s got a tracker in it. We can find you if you keep the phone. Put it in your pocket. Don’t lose it.”

Benjamin pulled up the chain around his ankle. The hatch fell into place just as the front door slammed open.

Will barreled down the stairs at a full run. Paul Vickery had attacked him two times before, but each time, the man had surprise on his side. This time, Will had the upper hand. He also knew that crooked as Vickery was, he was a trained police officer. He’d do exactly what Will had done. Check the closet. Check the garage. Check the kitchen.

Vickery was coming out of the kitchen when Will launched himself off the stairs. Vickery’s mouth opened. He didn’t have time to scream. Will tackled him to the floor like a pile driver. Vickery’s gun skittered out of his hand. Will slammed his fist straight into the man’s face. As awful as the situation was, Will couldn’t help but feel the sweet victory of payback as Vickery’s nose exploded like a blown tire.

Will reared back for another go, but Vickery didn’t move. Like most bullies, he had a glass jaw. One hit and he was unconscious. Will sat back on his heels feeling supremely disappointed.

“Damn, Bud,” Cayla Martin said. She was standing at the busted-open front door. She had a Taser gun pointed at Will’s chest.

The M26-C carried a compressed-nitrogen air cartridge that shot two tiny barbed probes up to fifteen feet away. The probes were attached to insulated conducting wires. The wires were attached to eight double-A batteries that delivered up to fifty
thousand volts of electricity. Enough juice to cause complete neuromuscular incapacitation.

Will lunged for Vickery’s gun, but he wasn’t fast enough to outrun the nitrogen charge. The probes dug into the back of his neck.

He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

L
ena laid back on the table at Dr. Benedict’s office. Her head was elevated, but her legs dangled uncomfortably over the end. She tried to keep the paper gown from riding up. It was no use. She was quickly learning that you had to choose between being pregnant and being modest. This was the first of many compromises Lena saw in her future. She already had the sensation of her body being taken over. She was peeing more. Sleeping more. Hell, she was even breathing more. The weird part was that instead of feeling invaded, Lena felt happier than she’d ever been in her life.

“You decent?” Jared peered around the door. He saw Lena and gave a low whistle as he walked over to the table. “Babe, I’m seeing some bedroom opportunities here.”

She rolled her eyes, even though she felt a strange thrill when he talked like this. And he was talking like this a lot lately.

She asked, “What’d you say to get out of work?”

“Told them I needed some personal time. They think I’m having an affair.”

She slapped his arm. “That’s not funny.”

He laughed good-naturedly as he looked around the room. “What is all this crap?”

“Got me,” Lena said, though she recognized the ultrasound machine. Just looking at it made her nervous. She didn’t know
what she would do if something was wrong. No heartbeat. The baby’s brain growing outside of its head. Horror stories were all over the Internet. She’d turned off the computer last night and thrown up in the hall bathroom.

Jared pulled out one of the stirrups. “You think they sell these tables at Costco?”

“Can you not be disgusting?” She slid the stirrup back in with her heel. “It’s bad enough I’m gonna be poked and prodded for the next eight months.”

“Seven and a half.” He picked up the plastic model of a uterus. The pieces fell apart in his hands. “Shit, the baby went under the table.”

Lena watched him get down on his hands and knees to retrieve the plastic fetus. His ass was in the air. His uniform pants stretched in a not unpleasant way. They worked out at the gym together almost every morning. Sometimes, Lena watched him doing squats while she ran on the treadmill.

“Found it.” Jared stood up, holding the fetus like a toothpick between his thumb and forefinger. “You okay? Your face is red.”

Lena put her hand to her cheek. She changed the subject. “I saw this pregnant woman at the store yesterday. The checkout lady patted her stomach like she was a dog. Then she said, ‘Good job, Mom,’ like it takes a special skill to get knocked up.”

Jared grinned. “You think people are gonna pat my crotch and tell me good job?”

“Not unless they want my Glock up their ass.”

He laughed, putting the plastic baby in the uterus, snapping the pieces back together. “You know my mom’s gonna wanna be here when it happens.”

Lena didn’t want to talk about that. Today was supposed to be happy.

“I’m just warning you,” Jared said. “And telling you that I want her here.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Your skeevy uncle will probably come, too.”

“At least Hank will have the decency to stay in a motel and leave the next day.”

Jared couldn’t argue with that. Hank had visited a few times since they got married. He was very mindful of outstaying his welcome.

She said, “It’s bad luck to talk about any of this now.” Lena couldn’t help adding, “Like painting the nursery. And looking at cribs. We need to wait another couple of weeks.”

He put the uterus back on the counter with a thud.

She tried, “Besides, if you’re going to work around the house, you should finish the kitchen.”

“It’ll be finished before the baby comes.”

“It’d better be.” Lena felt a fight brewing. She pulled back, not wanting the day ruined. All week, Jared had been talking about seeing the baby for the first time. She couldn’t mess this up for him.

Lena asked, “You’re never late. What kept you?”

“They put in the marker for Lonnie’s son this morning. Some of us rode by to pay our respects.”

“That’s nice.” Lena felt a swell of sympathy for the chief. His son had died after a long illness. Lonnie wouldn’t let him go, even when it was clear that nothing could be done to save him. In the end, they’d hooked him up to every machine in the ICU.

Jared said, “Something bad like that happens to me, promise me you’ll pull the plug.”

“I’ll pull it right now.”

“I mean it,” he said. “Don’t let me hang around like that. Peeing in a bag. People touching me like I’m a baby.” He asked Lena, “What’s the point of touching somebody who’s in a coma? What if they don’t want you to? They can’t stop you. They’re just trapped there. That’s some creepy shit.” He shuddered. “And don’t let my mama dress me up in pajamas. You know she’d get crazy like that.”

Lena felt her lip start to tremble.

He stared at her, confused. “Are you crying?”

“Yes, I’m crying, you dipshit.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Why would you talk about dying in the hospital when I’m carrying your fucking baby?”

“Jesus,” he muttered. He pulled a tissue out of the box on the counter. There was only one left. He handed it to Lena. “Don’t be crying like that when the doctor comes in. He’s gonna think I hit you or something.”

Lena blew her nose. “Talk about something else.”

He easily found a different subject. “How’s the raid going?”

Jared had tipped her off about a shooting gallery on Redding Street. He was following the case like a gambler who’d placed a large bet.

She told him, “It’s going to shit, is how it’s going.” She used the dirty tissue to wipe her eyes. “I need more Kleenex.”

He opened the door and called, “Nurse? Can we get some more Kleenex?” He waited in the open doorway, asking Lena, “You get anybody to flip on Sid?”

“What do you think?” She wiped her nose again. “Denise is about to have a stroke. She’s convinced this is our way into Big Whitey.”

Jared rolled his eyes. He liked Denise, but girls like Marie Sorensen ran off all the time. Using Big Whitey as the bogeyman took some of the blame off her shoulders.

Lena felt the need to take up for her friend. “He could exist. Denise found his name on a wire out of Florida.”

Jared shook his head with the sort of disregard that made her want to smack him. “I’m with Lonnie on this one. It’s a dead end.”

“Sid Waller is the key,” Lena insisted, though she had come to accept lately that Waller was still going to be walking around free when her kid graduated from high school. “Once he’s locked up, he’ll start singing.”

“Mean ol’ Big Whitey will kill Waller before he lets that happen. Right?”

Lena narrowed her eyes at Jared. He was giving her shit again.

He said, “Trust me, as soon as Sid Waller’s dead, Chief Gray is gonna get out of the Big Whitey business. It’s just too dangerous for him right now. And we both know he lost his edge when his son died.”

“Right,” Lena said, her tone matching his. “Lonnie Gray is going to back down for the first time in his life.”

The nurse handed Jared a fresh box of tissues. He told her, “Thank you,” then pivoted back to Lena. “Maybe Lonnie is really Big Whitey. Did you ever think about that?” The door clicked shut. He grinned at Lena. “How crazy would that be? Chief Gray is secretly a dope-swingin’ kiddie pimp.”

“Stop talking out of your ass.” Lena grabbed some tissues and blew her nose as loudly as she could. She hated that his stupid idea actually made a weird kind of sense. Gray had started out in Florida. Over the years, he’d either worked or consulted in several towns up and down the coast, including Savannah. All the mayhem they were seeing in Macon had coincided with Gray coming on board. If Denise was right and there was a mole in the department, then it had to be a mole who knew everything. What better cover was there than being the chief of police?