Searching for Secrets (20 page)

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I knew the account number from the computer. I deposited some money to see if I could learn more. All I learned was the name of the firm. Cute acronym."

"Thank you. My idea. Now, how much money was in the account?"

Why was he asking her that, she wondered. Could he really not know? "I don't know for sure. I saw the number four with some zeroes after it, but I don't know where the decimal point was. I think it was more than $40."

"More than $40!" His brow furrowed in anger. "There damn well better be." He seemed to force his countenance to relax. "And, of course, there is." He smiled at her as if he was a longtime friend. "And did you enjoy meeting Chas Johnson's grandmother? Dear Hattie, such a sweet woman."

Christa's knees felt weak. They had put a defenseless woman directly in danger's path. "She's very upset about her grandson. She made a point to say that you stopped by to offer condolences."

"I bet."

Christa tried to keep her face expressionless. "No one seems willing to talk much about you. Your reputation must be pretty firmly established."

Brandy darted into the bedroom before Freddy could aim again. Christa let out a slow breath, thankful that at least Brandy was safe. If Kirk came to look for her, he would find Brandy and know Christa had made it back to the apartment. Maybe he would think to look in the farmhouse ruins. Kirk. He won’t look. He has another woman on his mind.

"Your cat got lucky. Now move it. Wait!" He looked at her closely. "Where's your cell phone?"

"In my purse," she said.

Without taking his eyes off her he stuck one hand in her purse on the nearby table and pulled out the phone. "Mine now." He gestured that she should walk in front of him.

Christa walked out of the apartment and up the short flight of steps. No neighbor would consider it odd that she walk to the old farmhouse, even at dusk. She had been known to walk there much later, even in one foot of snow.

They walked in silence, Christa with her hands in her pockets. Her feet were already cold; if only she had on sneakers and socks instead of the loafers and nylon knee-high stockings. She decided it could be a lot worse; the temperature would remain several degrees above freezing, at least. There were times in late October that Iowa's temperatures dropped far lower than that. Of course, it could be much worse. You might just be dead in a few minutes, and then the only thing the cold will be good for is preserving your body.

As they approached the old farmhouse, it occurred to Christa that someone would certainly have nailed new boards over the old cellar steps. Surely the noise Freddy would make taking them off would be loud enough to attract attention. Her heart sank as they got closer. He had neatly pried off five of the narrow boards, just enough for them to stand sideways and go down the rotting steps. But, he'd have to nail them back, maybe that would draw notice.

She forgot the top step wouldn't hold her weight and nearly fell. Maybe she would get lucky and Freddy would break an ankle. No such luck. He had obviously investigated the spot, and he avoided that step as he moved lightly down the stairs.

Freddy unzipped his parka, revealing several feet of thin nylon cord that he had wound around one shoulder. Clipped to his waist was a flashlight, and he turned it on and scanned the room. "Same as it was when I was up here yesterday. I've been planning this welcoming party for you for awhile. I was almost afraid you would miss it."

He pointed the flashlight to a large beam that was half attached to the ceiling and half resting on the floor. "Sit next to that."

Awkwardly, Christa sat on the cold dirt floor. She decided it might just be cold enough to freeze to death tonight.

"Stick your hands out." Deftly he wound the rope around first her right hand and the beam. He threaded the rope through the fingers of her left hand and wound it under her arm, above the cast, and back to her hands. Then Freddy wrapped the rope around the beam again so that Christa's hands were just above her head. He stood back to survey his work. "You aren't getting out of there."

From the pocked of his jacket he pulled out a long piece of white fabric and roughly gagged Christa. He smelled of gasoline and garlic. His work was very effective. She had enough leeway to sit up, but she couldn't reach her mouth to untie the gag.

"If you're real smart, you'll be real quiet. Remember what I said about that little girl."

Through tears of rage, Christa watched the flashlight bounce off the steps as Freddy moved quickly out of the cellar. She heard him lay the boards over the opening and move something heavy to sit on top of them. The crunch of his feet walking on stones was soon lost in the dusk.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

KIRK DEBATED WHETHER to call Frances and Amy, and decided against it. It was pretty far-fetched to think that anyone could have his apartment phone bugged, but he didn't want to give these perps even remote access to his sister and her daughter. He had cost his family dearly already. An image of Timmy's face came to him briefly, then vanished. He walked to the cluttered grouping of photos on the small bookshelf and looked at his nephew's final school picture. He simply couldn't accept defeat. There had to be a way to get these drug dealers behind bars before they ruined any more lives.

But, as tired and frustrated as he was, there was not a lot more he could do now. It drove him crazy to have to stay away from the police station. What he really wanted was to grab Fast Freddy by the shirt and bounce him off the wall until he said who he was working for and what they were delivering tomorrow.

He glanced at his answering machine and noticed the blinking red light. He had checked it from the road less than an hour ago. He jabbed the button in anger and picked up a pencil.

"Mr. Reynolds." The woman's voice was an unfamiliar one. "This is Jane Foster at 'Saving Lives Treatment Center'. I just wanted you to know that the young woman you referred for treatment checked in this evening. She said she had promised to let you know. You're welcome to stop by later this week if you wish."

Hers was the only message. At least there was some good news. Chas Johnson's housemate had been terrified when she called him last night. He'd been certain she'd toss the card he gave her when he and Christa visited her. Instead she reached out to him.

Since Chas' death she had tried on her own to stop taking meth, but she couldn't. She was afraid of Freddy and wanted help. It was a good thing the desk sergeant had given her his cell phone number. He’d stayed off that phone as much as possible today, in case she tried to call back.

It had taken Kirk awhile to recognize Jennifer Norton as the young woman who had bought drugs from Freddy just before Kirk got the call about the attempted burglary at Buckingham Elementary. He told her he could help her get into a drug treatment program, and she could help a lot of other young people if she testified against Freddy. Terrified, she said she couldn't promise. He asked her to think about it, and gave her the number of the center he'd donated money to after Timmy's death. He told Jennifer he would do his best to get Freddy off the streets so she could feel safe about talking to the police about her dealer. It was the best he could do for now.

"His lawyer’s good. Freddy's never jumped bail, hasn't been arrested for anything in the last year, and wasn’t found with any drugs on him. I don't know what all he did; he must have had help from pretty high up." Hadley paused. "Kirk?"

KIRK HAD BEEN POUNDING on Christa's door for several minutes by the time Hadley arrived. "I've looked in all the windows, too. All I see is her cat."

"That's her car out front, isn't it?" Hadley asked.

"Yeah. Damn it all. I never should have let her go here alone."

Hadley's look was half-amused. "Since when did Christa "let" you tell her anything?" He tried the doorknob himself. "Have you checked with Frances?"

"I don't think I told her where they were; she wouldn't go there." Kirk sat on the steps to think for a moment.

"Uh," Hadley hesitated. "I meant to be sure she and Amy are okay."

"I don't see how Freddy would know where they are, but I’d better go check." He stood. "Could you go up to the old farmhouse? I nailed some new boards over those steps myself. You could see if they're still in place."

"Roger. And I'll put out a BOLO on her right away.

Kirk didn't think the "be on the lookout" issuance would do any good, but it couldn't hurt. "Thanks, buddy." Kirk ran to the rental car and pulled out of the parking lot at break-neck speed, then slowed as he drove on. Frances and Amy didn't need to lose any more family members.

He kept turning events over in his mind. Christa was furious with him for something, but she wouldn't hide in her apartment hallway, which was the only space he couldn't see. And even if she were that childish, she would come out at the sound of Hadley's voice. She liked him. Where could she be?

CHRISTA LEANED AGAINST the beam and took several deep breaths. She had worked for more than an hour to free her bonds, and all she had done was rub her thumb raw near the cast. She closed her eyes. She would rest a minute and try again.

Her eyes flew open. Was that someone walking near the top of the cellar entrance? She tried to yell, but Freddy had gagged her too effectively. The only noise she could make sounded like a weak, off-key kazoo. He hadn't bound her feet though, and she stamped those on the earthen floor. The sound of walking above her grew fainter. Even if someone had been looking for her, there was no reason to think she was in the dank cellar. She kicked the dirt in frustration.

AS HE HAD ASSUMED, Frances and Amy were fine. Frances was edgy; when could they go home, she wanted to know. Amy didn't understand why they had to remain in the relatively cramped quarters of a former neighbor's spare bedroom, and Frances was tired of driving a different, circuitous route to work every day. Her irritation changed to fear when Kirk quietly told her his concern about Christa.

"Are you sure?" Frances whispered, careful that Amy not overhear the conversation.

"I can't be certain, but her car and cat are there. I knocked on every door in your building; she isn't in any of those apartments, either."

Kirk watched Amy as she walked back in the room and climbed on the large double bed she shared with her mother. She picked up the TV remote. "Watch this Uncle Kirk." She pushed the on button and cartoons appeared. "Mom said I can watch an extra hour of TV every day while we’re here." She was quite pleased with herself.

"That's great, sweetheart." Kirk turned from Amy to Frances. "You must really be tired of this," he said, forcing a smile.

Kirk raised an eyebrow at Frances, but said nothing. "I'll see you tomorrow, Amy." Kirk looked at her as she stared at the TV.

"Now you know why I don't let her watch it? It makes them zombies. Amy." Frances stood in front of the TV. "Say good-bye to Uncle Kirk."

Amy craned her head to look beyond her mother to the flashing images. "Goodbye, Uncle Kirk."

Frances linked her arm through Kirk's to walk him downstairs.

KIRK DROVE SLOWLY ALONG Iowa Avenue. He doubted that Freddy would be selling drugs in plain view, but the nearby Italian restaurant was his favorite. Maybe he would look for a late dinner after his afternoon in jail. Afternoon. It was a crime how fast lawyers could spring some of their clients.

Parking meters ran the length of the street and sat in the middle of the concrete median strip. Kirk parked in a space several stores down from the restaurant and hunched down in the seat. He didn't have long to wait. Full-length leather coat flowing, Freddy rounded the corner, moving briskly toward the restaurant. Kirk got out of the car and jogged toward him.

"Mr. Chambers," he said, as Freddy placed his hand on the restaurant door.

Freddy turned around slowly. Kirk knew he had recognized the voice, though Kirk spoke a lot more politely than he did when he had the drug dealer in the police interrogation room. "Yes, Officer Reynolds?" He spoke with exaggerated politeness. "Were you about to offer to buy me dinner? The food in your establishment was not quite what I had in mind for my evening meal."

Kirk held back the barrage of insults he wanted to hurl at the lowlife. "I'm looking for a friend."

Freddy's look of suspicion changed to a broad grin. "Well who would have thought it? Officer Reynolds and I have some of the same friends."