WATCHING (44 page)

Chapter
55

****

She wasn
’
t stupid, and she wasn
’
t weak. Hadn
’
t been since she
’
d been fifteen years old. But she could feel Matthew
’
s toy car, still shoved into her pants pocket, biting into the skin of her thigh
—
a painfully physical reminder of exactly who would lose the most if Stephenson
managed
to kill her.

Matthew had lost so much already, and now he was old enough to feel the pain and abandonment if she didn
’
t ever get home. Was old enough to remember the bad man who
’
d taken Mommy away; he would always be afraid.
That fear would color the rest of his life.
Stephenson was
not
taking her away from her little boy. He was not doing that to Matthew.

She twisted her arms inward, ignoring the pain in her shoulder, trying to loosen the binding the son of a bitch had used.

All she managed to do was rub her skin raw. But she kept trying and kept trying.

***

Hell stepped deeper into the bullpen, avoiding looking at Georgia
’
s empty desk. He turned to one of Georgia
’
s former teammates, Brockman
’
s computer tech, Tompkins. He
’
d taken over for Carrie. The man looked pale and worried.
“
Anything here
?
”

“
No cell phone usage that I can trace. Unless he is using a disposable. Which he probably is. He
’
d know that his cell was traceable,
”
Tompkins said.
“
I
’
ve no record of any calls from him or to him. There was no unusual activity on his credit cards or in his bank account. I
’
m searching his computer now for anything. It
’
s going to take time. It will take time
.
”

“
Do the best you can
.
”
Hell told him. He turned to the rest.
“
I
’
m going to my office for a bit, I need to think. Work out where I think he
’
ll have taken her
.
”

“
Understood
.
”
Armitage
—
one of McLaughlin
’
s men—nodded at him, wordlessly signifying that he
’
d run things in the bullpen.
“
We
’
ll get started tracking his movements the best we can. We
’
re rounding up the rest of Stephenson
’
s team, seeing if they may know anything that will help. We
’
ve also issued bulletins and press releases to all local and state broadcasting companies and media outlets, all four resident offices, and the Kansas City field office. We
’
ve got local agents interviewing Stephenson
’
s parents in the Resident office near where they live
.
”

“
I know you
’
re all doing the best you can
.
”
Hell
’
s words came out soft, as he turned to walk up the stairs to his office. Dan and Edward Dennis followed him. The door closed behind them. Hell looked at her father for a moment.
“
I can
’
t find her
.
”

“
I told him today that he was being transferred out
.
”
Dennis
’
s guilt was plain on his face.

“
That may have been his stressor. Following his downward spiral. Losing his position here, the place where he was with the woman he loved. And probably killed..
.
”
Dan sank into the chair across from Hell
’
s desk as Hell spoke.

Hell grabbed the file regarding Agent Shanks
’
death, including a list of her personal effects, assets, and life insurance policies.
“
She left everything to Stephenson, including her house
.
”

“
You think he took her there
?
”
Dennis was on his feet and half out the door.

“
It
’
s worth a look,
”
Hell said.
“
I
’
m not stopping until I find them
.
”

***

Hell went first to the last room before the steps to the basement of Linda Shanks
’
former house. That
’
s where he
’
d put her if he were Stephenson. It was farthest away from either exit, making it more difficult for her to escape. According to the floor plans, it was a completely interior room, with no access to any windows. That further limited the chance for escape.

And if he had been Stephenson, expecting someone to arrive, he
’
d have rigged some sort of trap for that person. Something to prevent anyone from entering or exiting the room. Something mediocre in terms of cleverness, but still highly effective.

But Stephenson had proven himself to be a coward. He
’
d jumped Compton from behind, attacked Carrie twice, and abducted Georgia by threatening her child. And if he
’
d had an issue with Hellbrook in the past, he
’
d never confronted him on it.

He pushed the door open, surprised that it swung freely. Almost too easily. His grip tightened on the butt of his weapon; he entered the room with the skill of long practice.

No one waited, not Stephenson. Not Georgia. Hell let loose with a low set of curses that had the men listening through the earwigs hurriedly inquiring.

“
She
’
s not here, she
’
s not here!
”
he said.
“
McLaughlin, check the basement. Lorcan
,
check the outside structures
.
”

The men did as he said and found nothing. Hellbrook gave the orders to return to the division headquarters. They were back to square one.

***

Georgia knew how to talk to people, as a psychologist it was part of her job. But she also knew that there was no reasoning with someone as far gone as Stephenson.

“
Please don
’
t do this
.
”
She tried one last time.
“
My son needs me. His father is already dead, he needs me
.
”

“
I
’
m sorry for your kid. But he
’
ll be alright. This has to be done. There
i
s no other way
.
”

***

Carrie watched her hero, her mentor, the one man she admired above all others as he stared at the projection screen. Hell always knew what to do, in every situation. He always somehow saved the day, but apparently not this time.
Not now that it mattered so much.

Carrie knew she was better than Tompkins, though he was still very good
—
she knew she was better. Faster. And every minute counted.

Determination filled her and her hands inched toward her computer. She moved closer to her desk, propping her foot up in a chair and twisting her body into an awkward position as she typed furiously at one of the two new computers Hell had given her to replace the ones that had burned in South Dakota. She
’
d loaded the program she
’
d been writing for the CCU on the new laptop that morning and now she used it to simultaneously search every database within the FBI.
Search every record they had of Georgia Dennis and Roger Stephenson.
Twenty-two minutes later she
’
d found the information she was looking for.

Carrie stared at the data, almost unable to believe
—
or process
—
what she was seeing.

Georgia
’
s ID badge had been used to swipe the basement door of their field office one hundred eighty-six minutes after the time stamped on Georgia
’
initial exiting the building when she
’
d left for the night, followed quickly by Stephenson
’
s six-digit access code.

It took Carrie eight minutes to tap into the Bureau security cameras, her stomach tied and knotted as she deliberately broke Bureau protocol.
No one
was allowed to hack the company system. No one. But she did it anyway.

If she got in trouble it would be worth it if they found Georgia.
If she lost her job, she
’
d have other ways of making a living. But Georgia could die if she wasn
’
t found soon.

The basement housed the main network, was the hub of the entire building
’
s computer systems, electrical systems, and mechanical systems for almost every department. Electrical wires and computer wires of all sorts connected throughout the room. Nothing and no unauthorized people were ever allowed down there. Only engineers were allowed to even get close to it. Carrie wondered what Stephenson could possibly be planning to do down there, and whether Georgia was there with him. He had to put her somewhere, and if he
’
d driven straight from Georgia
’
s condo to the field office, chances were good Georgia was here, somewhere.

Carrie
’
s computer monitor crackled and the feed started, showing her exactly what the security cameras had captured. Georgia was there, her body positioned to face the camera as if Stephenson was directing a movie with only one stage direction. Her hands were tied over her head, but she was alive. A thousand different possibilities ran through Carrie
’
s mind.

She looked up, taking in all the people milling about the bullpen, looking for Dan or Hell and finding them through the window to Hell
’
s office with Georgia
’
s father. She looked back at her monitor as she grabbed for her crutches. Stephenson stepped into the frame
.

She cried out, the sound echoing through the somber bullpen.

The new catlike agent, Agent Lorcan, was the fastest as he rushed to her side before the cry had finished leaving her mouth.
“
What is it
?
”

“
I
’
ve found her!
”
Carrie said it once, then repeated it in a shout designed to draw Hell from his office.
“
I
’
ve found her! I
’
ve found her!
”

She kept shouting it over and over until Hell ran to her and grabbed her arm, shook her, and turned her to face him.
“
Carrie, where
?
”

“
Basement. He
’
s got her in the basement
.
”

“
Where
?
”
Dan demanded, his limp making him slower than Hell and Lorcan.

“
Here! Here! Here! Here!
”
She pointed to the monitor.
“
He u
sed George
’
s badge, Hell. He used it to open the basement! So I hacked the security feed! Go, go, go, go, go!
”

Hell, Dan, Dennis, and Lorcan were gone before she
’
d stopped shouting.

Carrie sat, eyes glued to the monitor. There was nothing else she could do.
She couldn
’
t follow them to the basement, not with the crutches making her useless. All she could do was watch the events play out on the screen.