Over the Edge, page 26
It appeared the tide of this case was turning at last.
Now all they had to do was find Lindsey before it was too late.
“They’ll be waiting for you. Go get him, Tucker.”
“That’s my plan.”
He ended the call and sped down I-64, exiting two minutes later and barreling toward the posh neighborhood Oliver called home.
As Sarge had predicted, two patrol cars were already parked a few doors down from Oliver’s dark house when he arrived.
The officers met him as he approached.
“We have a potential abduction situation, so let’s proceed with caution.” Jack inspected the residence. “I’ll ring the bell while you two do a walk-around. If he isn’t home, we may have to go in uninvited.”
The two officers split up and circled the house from opposite sides while he approached the front door and pressed the bell.
Two rings later, there was still no response.
He followed the officers around to the back, where they were examining the patio door.
“Find anything?”
“Nothing that raises any alarms.” One of them straightened up. “We’re trying to determine the easiest way to get in. I flashed a light in the back window, and it doesn’t appear his security system is armed.”
“Any cars in there?” Jack motioned to the rear-entry garage, which boasted a narrow horizontal panel of windows near the top of each door.
“One. It matched the license plate dispatch gave us. And it appears there’s damage on the side of the vehicle.”
“The door next to the garage will be quicker to breach than this one.” The other officer stood too. “One kick ought to do it.”
“Let’s give it a try.”
He strode over, the two officers falling in behind him.
Rather than wait for one of them to do the job, he twisted sideways and smashed his heel below the lock. The door splintered. A follow-up kick sent it flying.
They were in.
“One of you stay out here. The other, come with me.” He pulled out the booties and gloves he’d grabbed from his glove compartment and handed a set to the officer. “I don’t think anyone’s here, but be prepared for trouble just in case.”
“Got it.” The officer donned the equipment and pulled out his pistol.
Jack did the same and pushed through the door. Flipped on a light.
It was a laundry room that provided access to both the kitchen and garage.
“Let’s check the house first.”
After calling out Oliver’s name in case the man happened to be home, Jack took the lead, turning on lights as they moved from room to room.
Nothing in the kitchen raised red flags.
The living room appeared to be undisturbed.
Everything in the foyer was pristine.
Jack started down the hall.
Stopped.
A closet door at the end was open.
He put his feet in gear again, halting a yard back.
Major red alert.
In one fast scan, he took in the pile of sheets on the floor inside and the missing half shelf. Moving closer, he flicked on the flashlight he’d brought from his car, homing in on a brownish crimson spot on one of the sheets.
It was blood.
Lindsey’s.
He knew that as surely as he knew there would be a lot more of it unless he found her fast.
Heart pounding, he fumbled for his cell and got Sarge on the line again.
His boss listened to his download before speaking. “We need his phone records. Also a location on his cell, assuming he hasn’t turned it off. I’ll coordinate that. Does he have a second car?”
“Unknown. But the damaged BMW is in the garage.”
“We’ll check on a second vehicle and get a BOLO alert issued if he owns another one. I’ll also have the CSU send a van over there.”
“We need to find out if there’s any family we can talk to. Office staff too. I can dig into that after I finish the walk-through here. I’ll also have the officers who are here knock on the neighbors’ doors.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll get our people on the intel piece.”
The line went dead, and Jack put his phone away.
While he’d do a full circuit of the house and garage, his gut told him he’d already discovered the main clues visible to the naked eye. The CSU folks would doubtless unearth additional evidence during their thorough examination of the scene, however. It was also possible the door-to-door canvas would yield another helpful hint or two, though in neighborhoods where houses were often shrouded behind landscaping designed to offer optimal privacy, witnesses were generally difficult to find. Family, friends, and staff interviews could fill in blanks too.
But all of that would take time.
Time Lindsey didn’t have.
She’d already been missing for hours, and people with bad intentions didn’t stretch out their risks any longer than necessary. Especially smart ones.
And Oliver was smart.
Smart enough to perhaps stay one step ahead of the law, as he had throughout this whole ordeal.
But he’d made mistakes tonight, like the one last week with the blood on Lindsey’s car. Either he was getting rattled, or circumstances had pushed him into a course of action he hadn’t had an opportunity to plan to the nth degree, as he’d done for the lake and park setups.
If they were lucky, Oliver would keep making mistakes. Continue leaving them a trail to follow.
If he didn’t?
Jack tamped down an uncharacteristic wave of panic as the answer to that question came through loud and clear. Letting fear undermine his professional composure and usual meticulous thinking would be a mistake. He had to stay at the top of his game.
Lindsey’s life depended on it.
And as he continued his walk-through of Oliver’s house, he prayed for one more break that would lead him to the woman who was fast claiming his heart—in time to save her life . . . and their future.
Twenty-Eight
EVERYTHING WAS GOING SOUTH.
As the car rolled through the darkness, Heidi behind the wheel, Anthony wiped a hand down his face.
Maybe the fever was messing with both his brain and his nerves, but despite the impressive plan his partner had come up with on the fly, he couldn’t shake the specter of disaster hovering over him. Seat-of-the-pants had never been how he operated. Meticulous planning paid off, as evidenced by the success of the original car incident, the lake attack, and the staged mugging.
But there’d been no time for planning after Lindsey showed up at his door on a mission of mercy.
He looked over at Heidi in the dim car.
If she was nervous, it didn’t show. Her hands were relaxed on the wheel, her attention fixed on the road ahead as she tooled toward their destination.
As if she’d sensed his gaze, she glanced at him. “How are you holding up?”
“Physically, okay.”
“You getting cold feet about this?”
“I don’t like killing.”
“She left us no choice, honey. Besides, you didn’t seem all that squeamish about getting rid of James. I guess love is a powerful motivator.” She reached over and touched his leg, the sudden warmth in her voice in stark contrast to the coldness of her comment about her husband.
“That’s true.” He tried to mask his revulsion as he spoke the lie. Love had nothing to do with Robertson’s murder. Not on his end, anyway.
He turned away and stared out the side window into the darkness.
In hindsight, the irony of his situation with Heidi would be almost humorous if the stakes weren’t so high.
But he hadn’t known her history the night he’d been trolling for funding sources at a society function after his divorce and tagged her as an easy mark. After chatting her up, it had been obvious her love for Robertson was based on dollar signs, and that any feelings she may have had for her husband in the beginning had faded after eight years of marriage to a workaholic. She’d been ripe for the plucking.
Just as James had been when Heidi had targeted the lonely widower at the health club where she’d worked as a receptionist. With no children in the picture, she’d seen a clear path to easy street. A secret she’d shared with her new paramour after confiding that her previous husband had squandered all their money and left her for another woman, pushing her to find a new love interest with deep pockets.
The same way he’d viewed her, once his own money problems began.
A perfect illustration of what goes around, comes around.
The only glitch with his plan? She’d had a prenup that precluded her from getting any of Robertson’s fortune if she initiated a divorce.
By the time he’d found out about that complication, he’d done his snow job too well and she’d fallen for him. Hard. She hadn’t cared about giving up Robertson’s money—until he’d told her his own funds were limited.
And thus was hatched the plan to eliminate her husband.
Greed was as powerful a motivator as love.
“See? I told you it would be deserted.”
Anthony tuned back in to his surroundings, giving the industrial area a sweep as Heidi killed the car lights and swung into an empty parking lot.
“Are you certain there’s no security?”
“Yes. The employee who mentioned it to me a couple of days ago as a potential acquisition said it was abandoned and in such disrepair the owners didn’t even bother to lock it anymore. He said it’s being sold as a tear-down.” She drove around to the back of the structure, where the car would be hidden from the view of any passersby.
“Why would he recommend that you buy this place?” He gave the somewhat seedy surroundings another inspection. “It isn’t exactly prime real estate.”
“It doesn’t have to be for the self-storage facility he proposed we build. But I plan to nix the idea. That’s not a business I want to be in.” She braked. Scanned the building. “However, if someone robbed Lindsey and abducted her, they couldn’t find a more ideal spot to finish her off.”
Her matter-of-fact manner turned Anthony’s stomach.
Thank goodness the car was too dark for her to see his expression of disgust.
How could he ever have pretended to care for this woman?
How would he pretend in the future?
He swallowed past the bile rising in his throat.
Much as he needed money, could he really follow through with this killing just to salvage the prestige and high-end lifestyle he’d become accustomed to?
Especially when Lindsey was the intended victim.
James Robertson had been a stranger, but he knew the young woman who’d come to him for counseling. Had grown to care for her, as he cared for all his clients.
Yet if he didn’t see this to completion, he’d go to prison for the rest of his life—which could be of short duration if he got the death penalty.
A trickle of sweat that had nothing to do with his fever snaked down his temple.
He was stuck.
At this point, his scheme wasn’t just about financial survival.
It was about survival, period.
And there was no way out.
Lindsey had to die.
THE CAR HAD STOPPED.
Lindsey’s pulse accelerated as she continued to wiggle her wrists, doing everything in her power to loosen the cording that bound them. There was definitely more slack than there’d been at the start of this car trip, so her skin hadn’t been rubbed raw in vain. But was it sufficient to let her pull her hands free when the moment of truth came and she made whatever play the situation afforded her?
Unknown.
Yet she couldn’t risk doing much more. If the cording fell off too soon or drew the attention of her captors, it would tip them off to her plan.
The hum of the engine ceased, and her lungs stalled.
A few seconds later, the doors opened.
Half a minute after that, the trunk latch disengaged.
“Untie her feet while I check the door.” Heidi’s muffled voice came through the metal. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
A slight creak indicated the lid had been lifted.
The drawstring by her feet was loosened, and Dr. Oliver grabbed her ankles and pulled her toward the back of the trunk until her legs were dangling outside. He grasped her shoulders and sat her up, shielding her head with his hand. Like he cared about hurting her.
One more factor she might be able to leverage in her favor.
If only she could talk to him while Heidi was gone. Plead her case.
But talking probably wouldn’t produce favorable results, anyway. Action would be her salvation, if she could find the right opportunity.
“I’m going to stand you up, Lindsey.” He sounded out of breath. “Lean against the car for support if you need to.”
The next instant, she was heaved upright. Once she got her balance, he pulled the garbage bag up and over her head. The hat came with it, and her hair tumbled down.
While he bent to cut the cording around her ankles, she gave the area a fast appraisal as a cold wind whistled past.
They were parked beside what appeared to be a deserted industrial building. No lights pierced the darkness of the parking lot, nor were there any other vehicles visible. In the distance, outlines of other structures created hulking shadows against the night sky, and faint, random pools of illumination dotted the gloom. None close enough to shed light on the nefarious activity taking place here, however.
Any hope of nearby help evaporated.
She was in this alone, armed with nothing but her wits to pit against two cold-blooded killers, at least one of whom was armed.
But her feet were free, if slightly numb, and with one tug, her wrists would be liberated too.
She hoped.
The question was, when should she make her move? Out here, in the open, where she might be able to disappear in the night if the circulation returned to her feet and she could run without stumbling—or inside, where there could be places to hide and objects that could function as weapons.
Before she could come to a decision, Heidi returned.
“The door’s unlocked, as expected. Let’s go inside and finish this. It’s too cold to stand around out here.”
Dr. Oliver took her arm and towed her toward the building, Heidi’s ominous words ringing in her ears.
Finish this.
The end was near.
So if a window of opportunity didn’t open soon, she’d have to create one.
Or in a handful of minutes, she’d be dead.
“I STILL DON’T SEE why we had to swing by here at this hour. This neighborhood gives me the creeps.”
As Eric stopped in front of the empty warehouse he’d suggested Robertson Properties consider acquiring, he put the car in park.
It was hard to blame his wife for complaining about the detour. The area was beyond dicey.
But she could indulge him after the impromptu celebratory dinner he’d sprung on her now that the company had passed on the strip mall and his payment from Matthew Nolan had hit his account this afternoon. Stopping by off the clock to check out the potential purchase he’d recommended would demonstrate his commitment to the company and help build job security.
Heidi Robertson came across as the type who would appreciate and reward employees who went the extra mile.
“I told you, hon. I’ll earn brownie points with my new boss when I tell her I drove by tonight.”
“Seems like a waste to me. Won’t you have to come back in the daylight to see the inside?”
“At some point, if she decides to proceed. But she’ll be impressed that I swung by to get a first impression.”
She gave the structure a dubious inspection. “It’s pitch dark. What can you see?”
“Not much. That’s why this will be quick. I just want to be able to tell her I took a look. One circuit is all I have planned.”
“Well, let’s do it and get out of here.”
Eric put the car in gear again and drove toward the corner of the building. Continued along the side. Paused as he circled around back.
“I thought you said the building was empty.” His wife leaned forward and peered at the dark sedan parked near the door as a faint light flashed inside the windows spaced along the top of the structure.
Huh.
That didn’t seem right.
According to the material he’d reviewed on the property, no one should be here.
“It’s supposed to be.” He flipped off his lights as the illumination inside vanished. If someone was trespassing, they were likely up to no good—and calling attention to his presence could put him and his wife at risk. “I’m going to drive by the car. Write down the license while I read it off.”
“Why? Can’t we just leave?”
“Humor me, okay?”
“I don’t like this, Eric. It feels dangerous.”
“I’m only going to stop long enough to get the license information, and I’ll keep the doors locked. You ready?”
“As ready as I’m going to be.” She rummaged through her purse and extracted a pen and piece of paper.
“Here we go.” He continued forward, lowered his window, and stopped beside the back of the car. Aiming his cell at the license, he turned on the flashlight and read off the plate.
“Got it.”
After setting his phone on the console, he continued around the building and drove a block away. Stopped.
“Now what?” At his wife’s query, he picked up his phone again.
“I’m going to report what at the very least is a trespassing violation.”
“Maybe they’re not trespassing. That was an Audi, Eric. Why would someone who owns such an expensive car trespass?”
Good question.
But a better question was, why would someone who owned an Audi be in this neck of the woods at this hour of the night?
Something suspicious was going on back there.
“I don’t know. I’ll let the police figure that out.” He tapped in 911.
The operator answered at once, and as Eric reported what he’d seen, his lips tipped up.
