Deadly Bonds (14 page)

“May I have permission to ask Jeremy about Neil?” Sara asked. She hadn’t wanted to put Jeremy in the position of tattling on his brother, if it came to that. But if Neil was making poor choices, and possibly endangering himself, Sara was certain Jeremy would want to help.

“Sure. Those two keep better tabs on each other than John does. I’ll start calling Neil’s friends’ parents.”

“Let me know if you hear anything, please, and I’ll do the same.” Sara found Jeremy in the lunchroom, sitting next to Theo. “Hey, guys. How’s your Monday going?”

“Not too bad,” Theo said. Jeremy toyed with the crust on a sandwich.

“Jeremy?”

“Fine, I guess.” The boy spoke to his sandwich.

Sara slid into a chair opposite them. The lunchroom was just beginning to fill up, and many people had opted to eat on the picnic tables outside and enjoy the unusually mild autumn weather. The closest students were a table away. “What’d you guys do this weekend?”

“Dad and I talked about painting my room.” Theo’s gaze darted sideways at Jeremy, as if he, too, noted there was an issue that nobody was talking about. “It’s my birthday soon, and I get to pick a new color scheme. Dad says it has to last me for the next few years. That’s
if
he gets around to actually doing it, though. He’s been really busy.”

“I’m sure he will, especially since it’s a birthday present. What colors did you pick?”

“Navy and Chicago Bulls red.”

“Sweet.” She turned to Jeremy. “How about you?”

He shrugged. The crust of his sandwich lay in a heap on his tray. He hadn’t eaten a bite of it. “Not much.”

“I hear you were at your dad’s this weekend.”

Jeremy’s gaze shot up. His mouth tightened. “Did you talk to him?”

“No. Your mother mentioned it when I called looking for Neil. I’d really like to talk to your brother.”

“So would I.” Fear tinged his words and Sara felt a new level of alarm.

“What do you mean? You don’t know how to reach him?”

“He ran away.”

She controlled her surprise. “When?”

“Saturday night. He and my dad had a fight. Neil doesn’t think he’s good enough for Dad...not good enough to be a Rochard.” Jeremy scooped the crusts into his hand and balled them up. Did he think the same thing—that he wasn’t good enough?

“Did your dad call the police?”

“No. He said Neil will show up after he’s cooled off.”

In the meantime, anything could happen to the kid. Sara hoped Claire was having some luck calling the families of Neil’s friends. “Thank you for telling me. I can see how concerned you are.”

“I told Neil he’s good enough for
me.
”

She smiled. “I’m sure he appreciated that. And he knows you love him. He’ll be fine.”

Jeremy looked at her with hope. “You’ll find him, then?”

She gnawed on her lip. She could search from this side of Neil’s world, starting with talking to his teachers. “I’ll try my best.”

After leaving the boys to finish their lunch, Sara found Cheryl at her desk and had her run off a copy of Neil’s Friday schedule. She walked through the last day he’d been at the school, asking each teacher what he had been like and who he’d talked to. The picture was sadly the same with each class...he’d been quiet and unusually withdrawn all week. His final class on Friday had been Computer Science. She found Chad White in the teacher’s lounge.

Chad’s eyebrows drew together in a
V
as she explained the problem. “Sure, I remember talking to him after class. He wanted to do some searching online before his father came to pick him up. I gave him a temporary password. He’s a good kid, so I trusted him.”

“Did he do that in the classroom?”

“No, the library. I purposely keep the classroom computers offline so there can’t be any attempts to goof around on the internet. The library has a couple computers for online research, if the student has the password.”

“Any idea what he was looking at?”

“No, but I can find out easily enough.”

She mentally crossed her fingers, feeling optimistic for the first time that day. “That would be great.”

The library was on the third floor, where large windows overlooked the front lawn and rows of bookshelves housed a generous collection of books. She remembered seeing Neil studying at the large wooden table several weeks ago. He’d been working so hard. Had he given up because he was disappointed in his test scores? They’d been making headway with his confidence too. One week of verbal attacks from his father had knocked all his progress flat.

Chad pulled a chair out at one of the computers and sat down. “This is where Neil was working when I helped him log in.” A few drags and clicks later, Chad had brought up the search history from Friday. The last website address was for a military recruiter in this area of town.

“Could I see that site, please?”

Chad loaded the page in the browser. “Unless he was writing a report on the Armed Forces, it looks like he was thinking of joining the Army.”

* * *

Neil had met with the recruiter, whose office was in a corner of the mall only five minutes from the school, on Saturday. They’d had a lengthy chat, and the guy had even taken Neil to lunch. Neil, with his brains, brawn and political connections, was apparently being wooed.

Sara found it alarming—not because the military wasn’t a fine choice for a young man, but because Neil was a young man whose emotions were a pendulum. After a week of John’s constant berating, she worried that Neil would jump into the first thing that felt good...booze, a cult, or the military...at least the military was a relatively healthy outlet. She just wanted him to have the luxury of making such a life-changing choice under the best possible circumstances. The only saving grace in this mess was that he wasn’t old enough to sign up for a few more weeks. The recruiter sounded confident Neil would be back.

Saturday.
According to Jeremy, that had been the night he’d fought with John. Where had Neil gone that night, and where had he been staying since? He was a well-liked young man with many friends. One of them had to know something.

“He was with another young man,” the recruiter offered.

“Who?”

“The kid didn’t want to get involved. Guess he was just there because Neil wanted company, but I did hear Neil call him Lance.”

“Thanks,” Sara said. “I know him.” According to the computer’s attendance record, Lance was in school today. He’d likely be heading to the football field for after-school practice. After she hung up with the recruiter, she called Claire Rochard to exchange information.

Claire’s voice was thick with unshed tears. “I’ve been at my wits’ end, calling everyone I can think of. I didn’t get to Lance’s mom yet. I don’t know her as well.”

“I’ll talk to Lance. If he knows something, I’ll have him contact Neil right away.”

“Thank you. Keep me posted.
Please.
” Her voice broke. It couldn’t be easy for Claire. She’d been struggling through a divorce for months now, and John certainly wasn’t one to take responsibility or make it easy on anyone.

“Have you talked to John? Does he know what’s happening?” Sara had hoped to avoid dealing with the man herself.

“We communicate only through attorneys now. I left him a message.”

On the football field it only took a hard look from Sara to have Lance opening his mouth and spilling the details. “I told him he had to call someone by tonight or I would tell his parents where he was. Besides, my parents would have discovered him staying in our guesthouse sooner or later. I want to help, but I don’t want to get in the middle, you know?”

Sara was all too familiar with the middle and how uncomfortable it was. “Call him. Tell him everyone’s worried and if he doesn’t come home, we’ll have to involve the police.” Maybe Neil didn’t care about worrying his father right now, but he was close to his grandfather, who wouldn’t be happy about how news of this would impact his campaign.

Lance made the call and, after a brief conversation out of Sara’s hearing, hung up. “He’ll be here in twenty.”

Twenty minutes later, Sara was waiting with Claire in front of the school as a red BMW convertible came up the drive.

“That’s him,” Claire said. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “John insisted on buying him a car for his last birthday, but I had strict limits on how much he could drive it. John didn’t agree.”

Sara was so relieved to see Neil drive up that she nearly ran down the steps and hugged him. Claire beat her to it, but immediately released him and started shaking her finger.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Claire said. “The Army? Is that what you want to do, get yourself killed?” The words spewed out of her but stopped abruptly as John’s car roared up the winding driveway. He braked just short of Neil and Claire. Jeremy came running out of the building and Sara reached out to grab his arm and pull him to a stop next to her before he could immerse himself in the situation.

“I want to talk to Neil,” Jeremy protested. Following on the heels of Jeremy, Theo had reached her other side.

“Me too,” she said. “Let’s go together.” Maybe they’d break the tension and be able to assess the situation as they approached.

John unfolded himself from his car. “Making trouble again?” His icy words made Neil flinch. Jeremy’s muscles stiffened.

Neil rounded the car to face off with his father. “I was trying to figure things out on my own. I can’t think in that house. You don’t approve of anything I do anyway, so I might as well do what I want.”

“Is the Army what you want?” Claire asked.

“It was good enough for Grandpa.”

Jeremy ran to his brother. “Don’t leave.” Neil put a hand on his shoulder.

Unfortunately, Jeremy’s action had brought John’s attention to Sara. “This is
your
fault. You’ve been trying to ruin things for months now.”

“It’s not her fault, Dad.” All eyes turned to Neil as he stood up for Sara. “She’s only trying to help me.”

“She’s going to help you right onto the streets. You listen to her advice and you’ll be a nobody. Look where she’s at—alone, divorced, living in an apartment above a boys’ school.”

“That’s enough.” Claire spoke up this time, her gaze pointedly surveying the crowd of students and teachers who were beginning to gather on the lawn to watch the spectacle. “Let’s go home, Neil. We’ll talk there.”

“He’ll go with me,” John insisted.

“Oh, because that worked out so well last time?” Claire’s voice was saccharine-sweet. “I don’t think so. Starting today, it’s my week with the boys, anyway.” She reached for Jeremy’s hand and tugged her sons toward her car.

John turned his glare from the retreating trio to Sara. “I’ll be speaking to the board again first thing tomorrow morning. Light a fire under them. You might want to dust off your resume and start packing.”

Chapter Fourteen

“You busy?” Neil stood in her office doorway the next day.

“Not really. Come in.” Sara closed down the file she’d been composing—a list of all the reasons she wanted to stay at the Academy. All the reasons she would fight John’s campaign to have her fired. She’d received several concerned phone calls from the various board members since John’s threat. They would be visiting the school next Friday to see her in action for themselves. Her stomach ached, but more from anger than worry. “How are you?”

He took a seat. “Hanging in there. I just have to make it to my birthday in a few weeks and then I’m free, right?”

Tread carefully.
The last thing Neil Rochard needed was another adult pushing or pulling him in a particular direction. “If by
free
, you mean you’ll be of legal age to make your own decisions, then yes.” But legal age didn’t always equal mental and emotional maturity. “And those decisions will be legally binding.”

“So you don’t think I should sign up for the military, either.” He narrowed his eyes, as if he searched her face for the answers to life.

“I didn’t say that. The military is a perfectly viable option. But it depends what you want. And nobody can make
that
decision but you.” She sighed and decided to tell him the truth, John and the board be damned. “I’m worried about you, Neil. You’re highly intelligent. You’ll be successful when you find something you’re passionate about. But is that the military? Or is the Army simply the closest emergency exit?”

Neil picked at an invisible thread on his jeans. “I don’t know.”

“Then don’t rush into any decisions. And for God’s sake, finish high school first.”

A smile played about his lips. “Yes, ma’am. The recruiter told me the same thing, anyway. I thought you weren’t trying to make my decisions for me.”

“Well, that one should be a no-brainer.”

He snorted. “That’s good...considering I have no brain.”

Her blood heated. “Is that what your dad’s been telling you?” She pressed her lips together to keep from calling John the names she’d been thinking all week. “You’ve got a fine brain and you’ll use it to figure out what you want.”

“Did you always want to be a director at a boys’ school?”

“Not always. But sometimes life takes you in different directions. I did know, however, that I enjoyed working with kids. The important thing is to follow a passion, and you’ll never regret it.” She knew then that she didn’t need any list. She would fight for her job. No matter what John thought, this was where she belonged.

Neil seemed to think over her comments. “I like sports. And when I hurt my knee last year, I thought some of the therapy stuff was pretty cool. I think I might like to be a physical therapist.”

The irony in that was that most parents would love it if their child were considering a health profession. “I know someone at Mercy Hospital. They could probably find you a volunteer position in the physical therapy department on the weekends, after football season and your night classes are over. You could see if it’s the type of career you’d be interested in.”

“Really?”

“In the meantime, research what education you’d need and which schools offer that curriculum. Especially focus on your math and science classes. Finish strong.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

Neil didn’t get up to leave. He looked at the ground, then at her. “I’m sorry about my dad. He’s putting you in a tough spot, isn’t he?”

A really tough spot. Not that she had anything to hide or be ashamed of, but the thought of four stern faces following her everywhere didn’t leave her with a warm-fuzzy feeling. Still, she’d been through tough times before, and her personal motto always got her through. “I’ll survive.”

* * *

Holt had just finished placing a couple last minute calls to set up Theo’s birthday surprise when the SSAM receptionist appeared in the doorway of his office. “There’s a call for you on line one.” It was unusual for Catherine to walk from her desk in the lobby to find him when she could have just phoned him, but the way she wrung her hands together was even more telling. “He says he’s Toxin.”

Holt immediately sat up and reached for the phone. “Hello?”

“Do I have to hold your hand so you can get things right?” The voice on the line was definitely male, and highly annoyed. The same voice that had called Holt on the tip hotline. It was clear, now that Holt heard it again, that Brady wasn’t Toxin.

Holt’s heart pumped harder. He pressed mute and looked at Catherine. “Get Max. And is Einstein in the office? Tell him to start a trace.” Catherine hustled out as he un-muted the line. “Who is this?” he asked, as if he didn’t know.

“This is Toxin,” the man on the phone said, as if he were any Joe Schmo and the entire Chicago police force wasn’t looking for him. “I’ve been waiting.”

“For?” Holt was careful to match Toxin’s casual tone, but, on the inside, his heart was in his throat.

“For you to make a move.”

Tell me where you are and I will
,
you asshole.

“For you to see Sara again. And this time on a real date. She’s a good woman. She deserves better.”

Holt had to force himself to think past his shock. A serial killer was giving him relationship advice? This was a new twist, but it did fit with Toxin’s pattern of egomaniacal puppetry. And now Toxin had transferred his fascination from Holt to Sara. Holt’s heart pounded. He forced his words to convey calm disinterest when, inside, his mind was fast-forwarding to how he would get Becca back in position at the Academy right away. “Yes, she does. But how do
you
know her?”

He drew out his cell phone and set it on the desk in case Einstein had texted him. He hadn’t. He should have been on the case by now. The guy was always wired-in. He quickly typed a text to the communications expert.
Tracing?

“She’s the whole package,” Toxin said. “Takes care of those boys all day, doesn’t go out at all. Barely leaves the school for anything. She’s devoted. Not to mention she’s a nice piece of ass.”

Holt found it difficult to talk past the rage threatening to consume him. “Sounds like you know her quite well.”

Einstein texted back.
On it
. Of course, if it was a throwaway phone again...

“I’ve been watching,” Toxin said. “As
you
should have been. I thought I made that clear weeks ago, but that obviously isn’t enough for you. So I’m going to have to take measures to see that she’s taken care of.”

Holt froze. “Taken care of?”

Toxin chuckled. “Not
that
kind of
taken care of.
But if you don’t step up, I will.”

This had to be the oddest conversation he’d ever had, challenged for Sara’s affections by the man he hunted. “What do you mean by
step up?
”

“People lean on a hero for protection because he’s strong. He goes after what he wants and he gets it. Wine and roses, man. You were married. You have to know the drill.”

Jesus
, this guy knew a lot about him. And the more contact he had with Holt, the more Holt was learning about him. “Why do you care what I do or don’t do with Sara?”

“I just do.”

Was he seriously ordering him to date Sara? “What if I don’t follow your directives?”

“I’ll show her what she truly deserves in a man. Someone who will take care of her. Show her a good time. Protect her.”

That was the second time he’d used some form of the word
protect.
It couldn’t be a coincidence. “Protect her from what? From you?”

“From John Rochard.”

Alarm coursed through Holt. Toxin really had kept a close eye on Sara. He’d have the private investigator go back through the Academy employee records. He must have missed something. “Rochard?”

“Sara didn’t tell you, huh?” Toxin chuckled as if they were two old friends sharing a joke. “He’s threatening her job.”

Shit.
Sara had said she’d handle the issue of John Rochard. When he hadn’t heard any more about it, he’d assumed she’d taken care of the matter. Of course, he hadn’t given her a whole lot of incentive to come to him if she needed help.

“He needs to be taken care of,” Toxin continued. “And this time, I do mean the other kind of
taken care of.
” He paused. “On Sunday, there’s a banquet honoring veterans. Fancy dinner. Black tie. Be there, and take Sara. She deserves a night out.”

“And if I don’t, or Sara doesn’t want to come?”

“You’ll see. Convince her to go.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Besides Sara and an expensive meal?” There was a pause. “A hero does things out of a desire to help. But if you need more, I have something that might interest you. Information about Samantha Manchester.”

Holt went still. How had Toxin known about Damian’s daughter? More important, how could he have information that Damian didn’t already have? It had to be a ruse. “There’s no way you know things we don’t about her disappearance.” Not only had it been twenty years since her murder, but Holt had seen Samantha Manchester’s file. The CPD and Damian had used every resource possible to track down the serial killer responsible—to no avail. The killer was still at large.

“You willing to take that chance? I’ll give you the information after you take care of Sara. I’ll be watching.”

* * *

Toxin smirked as he disconnected and threw the cell phone into a trash bin at the edge of the park.
That should do it.
The call couldn’t have gone smoother, and despite wanting Sara for himself, now Toxin would know exactly where she was all weekend. He’d need that time to set the wheels in motion for the final stage of his plan.

Soon, Sara and Theo would be his.

* * *

Immediately after Toxin disconnected, Einstein assured Holt he would receive the recording of the call ASAP. In the meantime, Holt summoned Max and notified Noah.

Twenty minutes later, Einstein and Max arrived in Holt’s office. Twenty minutes was a long time to mull over the conversation, and to consider how to handle things with Sara. First, though, Holt wanted to analyze every nuance, every word, every pause of the recording.

Max dropped into the seat opposite Holt. “Noah’s looking into the cell phone number, and has someone heading to the location from which the signal came.”

“But I suspect it’s another burner phone and Toxin will be long gone,” Einstein added.

Holt cursed. “Unless the call came from the prison, it looks like we definitely have the wrong guy, although I already suspected as much. Noah will have to set Brady Flaherty free.” He rubbed at his temple, where a headache was beginning. He’d held out hope his gut had been wrong—for Sara’s safety. At least he’d had a bodyguard nearby, just in case. “What the hell could this banquet be about?”

Einstein held up a flash drive. “Recording’s on here.”

“How much?” Holt asked, hoping they’d at least gotten the last couple minutes.

“We got the whole thing.” Einstein’s grin was triumphant. He moved to Holt’s side, neatly inserting the drive into his computer and pressing a button. Catherine’s voice answered the call with friendly politeness and Toxin announced his identity.

“How’d you manage to get the whole thing?” Max asked.

“I can’t take all the credit. Catherine thought it might be a good idea to start recording all calls that come in. Since SSAM is known for hunting criminals, she thought we might get threats, and some day it would come in handy.”

Holt held up a hand to signal quiet and they immediately hushed. “There it is.”

“What?” Max asked.

“He mentioned the word
hero.
And
protect
. Several times, actually.”

“And that’s important?”

“Absolutely. He’s giving us clues, whether he intends to or not. He’s got a hero complex. He wants me to be a surrogate hero. Kind of like filling his shoes, probably because doing it himself risks his freedom.” He listened another moment, then paused the recording. “That part about wine and roses. He lets me know
he
knows I was married, and that I should know the
drill.
Which means he probably knows the drill too.”

“You think Toxin is married?”

“Is or was—some kind of committed relationship, like I’d thought before. I think that part of my profile is correct. And the fact that he refers to it negatively, as a
drill
, leads me to believe that relationship is definitely over. Yet he wants me to pursue Sara, in his stead.”

Sara was a key. He’d tried to leave her out of the investigation, tried to forget about her entirely, though she continued to invade his thoughts, day and night. It looked like he was going to have to include her after all.

“Better get on the phone,” Max said, standing. “In my experience, women like some advance notice if they have to get ready for some fancy shindig. That banquet is supposed to be full of big names and big egos—not the vets, but the politicians who’ll haunt the place looking for good press.”

Holt hadn’t heard of the thing. “Then we’ll need extra eyes and ears there.” He compiled a to-do list in his head. He’d have to depend on Max to handle things from SSAM’s end while he kept Sara safe. She might object to spending time with him, but he was going to plant himself on her doorstep until she understood how important this was. “We’re going to have to get organized fast. The banquet’s only a couple days away.”

“I’ll tell Damian,” Einstein offered.

“No, I’ll tell him,” Holt said. “I need to warn him about Toxin mentioning Samantha, anyway. I don’t want to get his hopes up about any so-called new information.” The man had seen them dashed too many times.

* * *

Damian looked up as Holt knocked at his open office door. The haunted look in the other man’s eyes immediately put Damian on alert. “What is it?”

Holt entered and closed the door behind him, ratcheting Damian’s alert status up another notch. The man taking the seat across from him had some bad news to share. “We heard from Toxin.”

“Just now?”

“About an hour ago. Einstein got me a recording of the conversation and I wanted to hear it a couple more times before speaking with you.”