Critical Pursuit (15 page)

THURSDAY NIGHT
was the end of the workweek for Jack and Brinna. Their days off were Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. As she got ready to leave, Hero watching her every move, Brinna wondered what kind of partner the last day of the workweek would bring
 
—the quiet, dead-eyed Jack or the Jack who acted like a concerned partner and competent cop.

“That’s what I like about this job, Hero
 
—every day an adventure. I certainly hope that when next week is over, I can go back to working with you. You’re easy. All you require are treats and potty breaks.”

She hugged the dog good-bye and left for work. During the short drive, she thought about her afternoon conversation with Chuck.

“Sorry, none of the guys from your Wall of Slime are a match,” he’d informed her. “They all come out clean as far as Heather is concerned, and I can’t connect any of them to the other cases I mentioned.”

“Thanks for trying. I was afraid you wouldn’t have any luck.”

“Maybe we’re after an old cellmate. Whoever killed Heather must have known Pearce somewhat in order to follow his MO so closely.”

Brinna sighed. “But he’s been dead for ten years. Why would a copycat surface after so long? And as I recall, Pearce never did much jail time. If he had a cellmate he shared his technique with, why all of a sudden decide to pick on me?”

“Maybe the publicity you’re getting because of the shooting gave the creep a bright idea. Based on the cases we’ve tied together, this guy’s a traveler, maybe a transient. It’s possible he ended up in Long Beach just in time for your headlines.”

“Lucky me. They all end up in Long Beach sooner or later, where the sewer meets the sea.”

“Look at the bright side
 
—” Chuck began.

Brinna cut him off. “There’s a bright side to this?”

“Yep. He’s a traveler, but right now he’s here in our backyard. We have a chance to stomp him like the roach he is.”

“I hope you’re right, and I certainly hope we stomp him before anyone else gets hurt.”

“We will. I’ll fill you in when we come across any names.”

“Thanks.”

Was Chuck right? she wondered. Did they have the best chance to catch this creep now? Whatever the odds, Brinna planned on doing her best to catch him, with Jack as a partner or not.

* * *

The night started slowly. Time felt as though it limped along. Brinna drove first, and she cruised neighborhoods
near where her Wall of Slime inductees lived. Warm summer nights always brought kids out to play and escape the heat of un-air-conditioned houses and apartments. The possibility existed that she’d find a creep out observing some youngsters, thereby creating an excuse to stop and talk to him.

“Is there anything or anyone in particular you’re after right now?” Jack asked.

“No, just looking.” She cast a glance her partner’s way. He seemed to be a normal man tonight, so she decided to take advantage. “I spoke to Chuck today. He thinks we might be on the hunt for an old cellmate of Nigel’s.”

“None of the guys on your
 
—what do you call it?”

“Wall of Slime.”

“That’s it. None of them panned out?”

“No. Can’t tie any of them to
 
—”

The radio beeped its emergency tune. “4-Frank-8, copy a call on your MDT, ASAP.”

Brinna waited for Jack to read her the call. “Well?” she asked after he stayed silent for a long moment.

“Klein wants us to meet him out east.” Jack read off an address on Conquista Avenue.

“What is it?”

“All it says is assist him with an unknown trouble call.”

Brinna held Jack’s gaze for a moment. His bewildered expression mirrored what she felt.

She made her way to the address. When she turned onto the street, nothing she saw put her at ease. Neighbors milled on the sidewalk, some talking to officers. Four East Division
black-and-whites plus one sergeant’s unit lined the street in front of the dispatch address.

“What in the world is the mystery?” Brinna asked, mostly to herself.

Jack answered. “Let’s go find out.”

They got out of the unit and walked to the front door. Klein opened the door before Brinna could knock. Sobbing resonated from somewhere inside the house, and Brinna’s stomach tightened.

“Thanks for getting here so fast,” Klein said. He motioned them inside. It was a typical East Long Beach tract home. A short entryway led to a small living room. There a woman sat on a couch crying; a man held her shoulders and spoke in low tones.

“Let’s go to the back bedroom.” Klein led them past the couple and into what was obviously a child’s room. Brinna felt her stomach drop as if she’d just stepped off a ledge and was free-falling into a bottomless abyss.

The small bed, decorated in Little Mermaid bedding, was empty but mussed as if it had been slept in. There on the pillow, which should have held a young girl’s head, was a cardboard sign with a note written in red block letters:

OFFICER CARUSO:

ANOTHER CHILD, ANOTHER CHANCE.

CATCH ME IF YOU CAN.

“I WAS IN
the communications center when the call came in,” Klein explained. “I’ve tried to keep it quiet because I didn’t want the press everywhere. But this will get out, Caruso.”

“I don’t care about the press and me. I care about finding the little girl. What’s her name?”

“Jessica Blake. She’s seven.” Klein blew out a breath. “Parents put her to bed at eight thirty. Dad thought he heard something around eleven but didn’t come check until eleven thirty. He found the note.”

“Entry?” Jack asked.

Klein walked into the kitchen. “Lock picked. Lab tech is en route for prints.” He pointed at the kitchen door. “He came in through here, walked down the hall, grabbed the little girl, and left the same way. This was bold. It was dark but still warm; people were out and about.”

Brinna returned to the bedroom. Jack and Klein followed.

“Anyone see anything
 
—cars, anything?” she asked while her eyes scanned the little girl’s room, decorated in pink
flowers with dolls and mermaids neatly placed on shelves on the walls.

“Not so far. I’ve got officers talking to neighbors. How about bringing Hero in?”

“What about Lieutenant Scranton? He said
 
—”

Klein waved her silent. “I’ll deal with Scranton. Just get the dog.”

“Give me fifteen minutes.” She turned and jogged out of the house, Jack on her heels.

“What can Hero do here?” he asked as they got into the car.

“He’s an air-scent dog. He might be able to pick up a trail to at least where the car was parked, if they left in a car. If they didn’t, we might even get luckier.” She punched it away from the curb.

“Won’t it all have dissipated by the time we get back?”

“Not necessarily. Humans shed scent at an amazing rate.” She slowed for a red light, and when she determined the intersection was clear, accelerated through. It was going on twelve thirty in the morning; traffic was light. “Dogs have such sensitive noses. They can pick up scent effectively, even after time has passed.”

“But if he took her away in a car?”

Brinna shook her head. “He’ll key on where the car was, but it’s likely we’ll lose the scent then.” She made the turn into her driveway. “I’ve got to run in and get his gear. You can wait here or come in.”

Jack followed her into the house. Hero met them joyfully at the door.

“Hey, bud, we got some work for you.” She calmed the dog down before striding into her office to grab a harness for him.

Jack followed her through the house. “Wow,” he said when he saw her office. “The famous Wall of Slime. You really do take this seriously.”

Brinna followed his gaze. “Yes, I do. Kids deserve protection. They deserve someone to fight for them.”

“Your mission?” Jack faced Brinna with a questioning expression.

“You could say that. Like I told you before, each of those kids is just as important to their parents as your wife was to you.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Okay. Enough said, then. Let’s find Jessica. We’re stuck being partners at a time when I really need a good one. I asked you once, are you going to be someone I can count on, or are you going to be a zombie wishing for something you can’t have?”

Jack stared at her for a minute, then cleared his throat. “You can count on me.”

“Fine, then let’s get to Jessica’s house.” She turned and headed out to the driveway, Jack on her heels.

Brinna loaded Hero into the back of the black-and-white, not seeing any reason for her and Jack to take two cars.

She ground her teeth with determination, vowing to find Jessica before it was too late. Struggling to tune in to her instincts, she reviewed all she knew about Nigel Pearce, hoping it would put her in sync with his copycat. He never killed
his quarry. He always left his victim somewhere remote after he was finished with her.

Someplace remote. But where?

* * *

Jack hung on while Brinna drove like a woman possessed. She paused only briefly at each intersection before zipping through. He felt as if he’d emerged from a long sleep refreshed and alive with the desire to be a cop again.

Brinna Caruso made him think, made him realize that he was not the only person in the world to grieve over something lost. God or no God, she was right.
I can’t waste my life wishing for something I can’t have.

Vicki once said she loved me because I made a difference. I helped people. In Caruso’s world I can keep helping people, starting with this little girl.
He sucked in a breath and his throat tightened.

I can’t have you here again, Vic; I can’t.
He swallowed a sob, aching with the struggle to accept the finality of her death but knowing deep down he had to face the truth and move on.

He took several deep breaths and focused on the job at hand. The pain still pinched his heart, but like the night before, he felt as though he were moving forward, not stuck and sinking in a deep, dark pit.

This is where the rubber meets the road. I’m in uniform with a job to do. People depend on me to make a difference. I have to be all here, give the job 100 percent. I’m angry now, angry at the man who took my wife and the creep who took those kids away
from their parents, but I have to put that aside. My partner doesn’t have any problem putting one foot in front of the other.
Jack tightened his grip on his seat belt.
I’ll follow her lead and trust my instincts.

Brinna was out of the car as soon as they stopped. She hooked Hero up and started for the door with Jack following. A plain car was present and Jack bet it belonged to Chuck Weldon. The house and front yard were now marked off by yellow crime scene tape.

A local news crew badgered a uniformed officer on the tape’s perimeter. Jack recognized Tracy Michaels, a local reporter who often covered the city crime beat. He hoped to make it past without her noticing him, but the sharp-eyed reporter spotted him as he crossed the street.

“Jack! Jack O’Reilly.”

Jack groaned. He’d spoken to Tracy at many homicide scenes, but he wasn’t up to any kind of grilling right now.
I have no idea what Klein wants to release.

“Jack, please come give me a comment.”

To shut her up, Jack stepped her way. “Tracy, I don’t have anything to tell you.”

“Come on, Jack. I recognized Chuck Weldon. The FBI is involved. What’s going on? And Caruso is here. Was a child abducted?”

“I’m not in charge. You have to wait until the incident commander gives out a press release.”

“What’s with this?” Tracy frowned and her eyes appraised Jack from head to toe. “I just realized you’re in uniform. What gives?”

“A change of scenery. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Jack turned for the front door of the house as Caruso was coming from the backyard, Hero straining at the leash, nose in the air. Klein and a uniformed officer lifted the tape for Brinna and Hero, and Weldon followed.

Jack stepped aside as the dog came by, Brinna giving the order to find. Hero turned south and went down the street, past one house before he headed to the curb. There he stopped, still testing the air. The dog took a few steps into the street, then walked to Caruso and sat.

“Caruso! You’re here with your dog. What is going on?” Michaels pushed past the uniformed officer and shoved a digital recorder under Brinna’s chin. “You’re the object of a big lawsuit. Can you comment on the kid you killed and the kid you’re searching for?”

Before anyone else could react, Jack stepped forward and grabbed the recorder. “Now is not the time, Tracy. We’ll give you a statement later.”

The reporter turned on Jack. “Stop stonewalling. The public has a right to know about police brutality!”

“Not right this minute they don’t.” Klein stepped in and waved another officer over. “Escort Miss Michaels to her car.”

When Michaels erupted in protest, Klein silenced her. “Meet us at the station and you’ll get the first press release about the incident here at this house. Officer Caruso doesn’t have anything to say about anything else.”

The reporter protested for a few more minutes but eventually let herself be escorted to her car.

Caruso turned to Jack. “Thanks. I didn’t know I’d be such
a lightning rod. Michaels forgot all about the kidnapping to go after me about the shooting.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jack gave a wave of his hand. “I’ve dealt with Tracy on many cases. She can be handled. Did the dog key on something?”

Brinna nodded. “My best guess is that the suspect’s car was parked there. He put the victim in the car and most likely took off southbound.”

“Did anyone see a car parked there?” Chuck asked.

Klein motioned to the uniformed officer. “Anything?”

The officer read his notes from a clipboard. “One neighbor mentioned seeing a van conversion, large and raised up as if it had four-wheel drive. No one else saw anything unusual.”

“A conversion van?” Klein frowned. “That’s not exactly a classic getaway car.”

Weldon turned to Caruso. “You sure about
 
—?” He stopped and Jack saw that Brinna’s face was white. “What is it? What’s the matter?” Weldon asked.

“Hero’s right. The car was parked here and it was a conversion van. And I know where he’s gone. I know where he’s taken the girl.”