Mindhunters 4 - Deadly Intent (5 page)

Fuming, she sat back in the seat and stared out the window, which was already decorated with a thick collection of fat flakes since it’d been cleaned off at the estate. The snow wasn’t heavy enough for visibility to be a problem, but there was still plenty on the road, which didn’t look as though it had seen a snowplow recently. It was entirely possible that the missing security agent, Hubbard, had run his car into the ditch on the way there.

She’d almost believe it, if not for the voice mail recording.

It had served its purpose well enough. Everyone else on the security team had expressed shock, bravado, or anger at the girl’s disappearance. Hubbard should have been there, doing everything in his power to convince them, as his fellow team members had, that he wasn’t involved. That
none
of them could be involved.

His absence pointed a neon
guilty
arrow in his direction. The prerecorded phone message bought him time. But time to do what?

She didn’t know the answer but was fairly certain his place would be empty by the time the patrol officers got there.

“According to the records Mulder keeps, Hubbard has a house,” the agent answered belatedly. “The team all rotates four days on and three off. Hubbard worked until four yesterday afternoon.”

“And do the cameras have him on tape leaving the estate after his shift?”

There was silence in the vehicle in response to Burke’s question. What had or hadn’t been captured on tape was still a mystery. But it wouldn’t hurt to ask Raiker. He’d still been nowhere in sight when they’d left the estate, and she needed to update him anyway.

Macy pressed the speed dial number for him on her cell phone and was rewarded a moment later with his familiar brusque tone. “You took off fast.”

“We’re chasing down the last of the security guards. The only one who didn’t show up for an interview.”

“Hubbard. Whitman and I are in the camera room right now. We’ve got enough to get a warrant for his house.”

For the benefit of the two men in the car, she repeated, “You’re getting a warrant for Hubbard’s place?”

Burke jerked around in his seat as far as his seat belt would allow, staring hard at her.

To forestall the litany of questions sure to tumble off his lips, she switched the settings on the cell to speakerphone. “I assume you’re looking at yesterday’s feed.” Adrenaline was doing a fast sprint up her spine. “Do you have footage of the girl’s disappearance?”

“The techs are still working on that. But we have footage of Hubbard coming to work yesterday. We just don’t have anything showing him leaving.”

“Son of a bitch,” Kell muttered.

“Then his vehicle could still be on the property somewhere?” Macy’s mind was working furiously.

“One would think.” Raiker’s voice was dry. “But who knows? If we don’t have feed of anyone leaving with the girl, why should we be surprised that there’s no video record of Hubbard’s car leaving?” His voice went muffled then, and she could hear conversation in the background.

“What’s going on?” Kell demanded impatiently. “Who’s he talking to?”

Macy ignored him. It was frequently the best solution. And one she’d often wished she’d chosen six months ago.

Travis said, “There’s a large garage at the west end of the property for employee use. One of the agents would have been dispatched to take license and model information of all those vehicles right away this morning.”

“But have they been matched with the owners?” Since none of them had an answer to her question, it remained largely rhetorical. Macy could feel her own impatience rising until Raiker finally came back on the line.

“Hubbard’s car is still in the employee garage,” Raiker said. “It’s doubtful you’ll find anyone at his place, but wait for an officer to show up with the warrant. I’ve been assured it’ll be expedited.”

“When can we expect . . .” The line went dead. Experience had her certain it was her boss’s usual abruptness to blame rather than phone malfunction.

“Great.” Movements jerky with frustration, Kell exchanged his glasses for prescription sunglasses. “Looks like Hubbard is in this up to his neck. And we’ll be freezing our respective asses off waiting hours for a warrant before we can get inside his place for a look. Hope this heap has a good heater.”

“CBI isn’t exactly the neighborhood watch.” The tail end of the car fishtailed then, and expertly Travis counter-steered out of the one-hundred-eighty-degree spin. “Whitman will get the warrant, and it won’t take all day, either. Look at it this way—we could be stuck at the estate, typing up interviews. Whitman’s making noises about sticking someone with those duties, at least until he can get a secretary out there.”

Macy caught his eye on her in the rearview mirror and lied blandly, “I don’t type.” Although she shared Burke’s frustration with the situation, she thought she was more adept at controlling her emotions than he was.

Of course, a ten-year-old would be better than Burke was in that area.

The vehicle swerved again, and the agent slowed down even more. Peering out the window, she spied the patchy areas of ice glinting through the tire tracks on the road in front of them. No telling how long it was going to take them to cover the usual thirty-minute trip. At this rate, the warrant could beat them to Hubbard’s house.

“Is that employee garage heated?”

Travis lifted a shoulder. “Don’t know for sure, but I’d guess yes. The Mulder estate doesn’t seem to lack any of the amenities.”

Kell seemed to know where she was heading. It was one of the few advantages to working with him. His quick wits were useful for more than coming up with smart-ass quips. “So we have to wonder if there was also surveillance in the garages and outbuildings. If it were me trying to protect my family, I’d have security there. Just another measure in place in case someone somehow bypassed the system at the gate.”

She gave a satisfied nod. “So if he hid in the garage or car, those cameras were manipulated as well.” Because it was almost certain some of the others had been. “Otherwise someone would have noted it or the fact that Hubbard never returned to the vehicle at all.”

Kell turned to look at her. “Which makes you wonder where the hell the bastard stashed himself from four o’clock until sometime after eleven.”

“And how he got off the estate on foot, carrying the girl.”

“The least the son of a bitch could have done was leave his garbage out.” The vents under the dash were blasting out heat, so Kell moved his feet farther away. Already they were sweating inside the insulated boots he wore. It was either freeze or sweat to death while they waited in the SUV. There was no middle ground. “We could at least legally go through that while we wait.”

Despite Travis’s assurances to the contrary, they’d been sitting nearly two hours since their arrival, after it had taken them twice the usual time to cover the distance to Hubbard’s house from Mulder’s. Once the agent had badged the officers watching the house, they’d told them all they knew about the property, which had been exactly zilch. No one had been in or out of it since they’d been dispatched to the scene. The snow on the driveway was pristine. The partially filled-in boot prints up to and around the house belonged to the officers, according to them. Kell didn’t need the absence of tracks to be able to figure that Hubbard hadn’t returned here recently.

They’d spent the intervening time door-knocking and talking to the neighbors they could find at home, largely in vain. Most claimed they hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary around the Hubbard house for the last few days. Macy had elicited the only useful information.

He glanced in the backseat to note her bent over her PDA. In deference to the warmth in the vehicle, she’d pulled off the butt-ugly hat she’d been wearing to allow her dark hair to curl around her face and shoulders. He remembered vividly that it was as fine and soft as a child’s. With those startling pale blue eyes fringed with absurdly long lashes, she looked about as intimidating as a kitten. No wonder Hubbard’s neighbor across the street had opened up to her.

According to the lady, Paula Graves, the last time lights had been seen in the man’s house was the night before the kidnapping. She’d worked second shift and had seen one inside light on before she’d gone to bed, which had been nearly one. She’d remembered it, she said, because Nick wasn’t a night owl like she was. If he was home, his lights were always off by eleven.

And that, Kell considered as he unzipped his coat, meant exactly nothing. Which matched what they had so far on this case.

“So what’s a place in this neighborhood cost in Denver?” he asked conversationally.

Travis reached over to turn down the heat. “How should I know?” His voice was irritated. “I’m not a real estate agent. Besides, I live in a condo.”

“Fine choice,” Kell said approvingly. “Houses are just a pain in the ass, right? Lawn care, snow removal . . . who the hell needs that?”

“People who prefer some character in their homes?” murmured Macy, without looking up.

Ignoring her, he continued. “According to the info Dobson gave us, Hubbard lives alone.” The agent was regularly updating them as more details came to light. “What makes a single guy buy a house instead of renting an apartment? Especially if he’s planning to stage a high-profile kidnapping in the state?”

“Maybe he wasn’t planning it that long.” Travis seemed inclined to play devil’s advocate. “He’s only worked for Mulder for eighteen months. Could be he worked the job day in and day out and thoughts started to form. Maybe harmless at first. If it could be done and how. Then he starts thinking about the money.”

“There’s been no ransom demand.”

This time they both ignored the voice in the backseat. “Or maybe someone approaches him. Says, hey, you can get in, why don’t you grab up the kid and I’ll cut you in for a slice?”

“Almost has to be more than one involved,” Travis stated and Kell nodded. This operation was too big, too complex for a solitary person. The kid wasn’t snatched at a low-supervision birthday party this time. She’d been abducted from a property equipped with the most high-tech security measures he’d ever seen at a private residence. That took someone with technical knowledge. The guard might have had the expertise with cameras and live feed, but there had also been the motion detectors to contend with. Not to mention getting into the house itself. All required highly specialized knowledge. But would the same guy also have the experience on grabbing and keeping a hostage?

Because for the life of him, despite Ellie Mulder’s background, he didn’t see this being the work of a common lowlife pedophile. They usually chose easier pickings. Kids walking home from school or unsupervised at a mall. A playground. Sure, there were instances of them being snatched from their homes, but not off properties as well-protected as this one.

He was willing to bet they’d discover the girl wasn’t the target this time, her father was. Was it money? Revenge? He cocked his head, considering the question. They wouldn’t know the answer until—and if—a ransom demand was made.

“If money’s the motive, there’s got to be a cash guy, too. Someone who will deal with the demand and direct the payoff or pickup. What’s the likelihood security guy has the experience with that?” He tried to remember the update on Hubbard’s background that had arrived via Dobson. “He’d worked at a prison, right? Manned their cameras and live feed for fifteen years. Yeah, might have had access to some criminal talent on the job, but I doubt they had support groups on the how-tos of child abductions.”

“Raiker looked into the inmates housed at Florence during Hubbard’s tenure there. Only three were serving time for kidnapping.”

He didn’t need Macy’s reminder. He’d heard the boss’s terse phone report himself.

“He’s wasting his time there,” Travis said surely. “The man worked in security, not in inmate control. He wouldn’t even have had contact with the population.”

“Hubbard’s property was purchased for three hundred and ninety-five thousand dollars over a year ago.” Macy looked up from her PDA when he glanced back at her. “What kind of money was he making with Mulder?”

“Almost a third of that,” Travis responded. “The man recruits the best and doesn’t mind paying them.”

“So the place isn’t out of the ballpark, given his salary.” Kell checked his watch. The exchange was merely a way to pass the time. There wasn’t a damn thing they could be sure of until they got inside. He watched Hubbard’s next-door neighbor power up a snowblower and begin the torturous job of clearing the walk in front of his house, inwardly shaking his head. If that was part of the
character
of home owning, he’d take his town house, any day.

“We’ve got company.” Macy’s words had his attention jerking back to the street. The squad car rolling to a stop beside them hopefully meant that their forced idleness was over. He got out of the car and waited impatiently for Travis to accept the paperwork that had taken—he checked his watch again—a little over three and a half hours to process. Lightninglike speed to get a judge to sign a warrant, but he’d never been a fan of stakeouts.

When Travis had finished with the officer, he tucked the warrant inside his coat before circling to the back of the vehicle and popping the trunk. Macy joined them and they grabbed their evidence kits before heading for the nondescript stucco house.