Читать книгу Colby Brass - Debra Webb - Страница 10

5:40 p.m. (four hours missing)

Von studied the photo of Charlie Jones sent via a multimedia message to her phone by Simon. Forty years of age, according to the stats accompanying the photo, long, stringy brown hair, cocaine-skinny with an extra long rap sheet. A real dirtbag.

Even worse, this was a friend of Lily Larkin’s father—the man who had disappeared with her after stabbing and leaving her mother for dead.

Not good.

A snowman, leaning precariously to one side, adorned one of the postage-stamp-sized yards of rundown duplexes.

Only one streetlight worked and that was on the end opposite of where Von had opted to park, allowing for the possibility of trouble getting damned close without warning. The up side was that the dark provided good cover for her black SUV.

Lily Larkin had been missing approximately four hours. Every additional moment that passed was one too many. Von wanted to find that little girl.

“The cops will be right behind us,” Trinity commented. “If they get to Jones first, we’ll be at an impasse.”

“Then what’re we waiting for?” Von had wanted to move as soon as they pulled to the curb. Her partner was the one who’d insisted they hold off.

Colby rules—the investigator with the most seniority at the agency was lead.

“That,” Trinity said, his attention fixed on the row of housing “is what we waited for.”

Two men exited the front door of the duplex suspected as being the hangout of Jones and his friends. The interior light disappeared as soon as the front door closed behind them but not before Von got a decent look at the man with long, stringy brown hair.

“He got a heads-up that the police are asking questions about him,” Von said, voicing the realization that barged into her brain a few seconds later than it had her reluctant partner’s.

“Can you stay on him without him noticing?” Trinity turned to her. “We can’t risk losing him.”

Von didn’t justify his question with a response. She shook her head as she started the SUV’s engine. They were married for three years, during which time she and Trinity had tracked down numerous bail jumpers as well as varied and sundry bad guys.

He knew her driving and surveillance abilities.

“Lots of things can change in five years,” he noted as if that explained everything.

Another remark she wasn’t going to bother rejoining.

She gave Jones a half a block head start before easing away from the curb. The sparse traffic made getting any closer dicey at best.

“He’s taking the upcoming left.”

Like she couldn’t see the luxury silver SUV easing toward the center line. “Looks that way.”

Von drove past the street the target had taken.

Trinity didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. She felt his tension radiating across the center console. He would have chosen a different strategy. Tough, he wasn’t driving.

She took the next left. Drove the short block and braked for the stop sign at the subsequent intersection. “And there he goes,” she noted aloud as the silver SUV drove past their position.

Trinity said nothing as she made the right turn and followed the target.

Truth was, she couldn’t read minds and the target could just as easily have gone in the opposite direction. That, too, would have been fine. She would have seen his taillights and followed. This neighborhood was pretty barren.

This street was flanked by rundown shops that had long ago closed for business. Scarcely any streetlights still worked. Jones was playing it safe, keeping a low profile in a deserted area where anyone watching was likely up to no good as well. And would be easily spotted.

Von’s choice to take a different route had been a simple diversion tactic that had a fifty percent chance of success.

Brake lights abruptly lit the night as the SUV skidded to a sideways stop in the street.

Fifty percent chance of failure.

“Back up!”

Von had already hit the brakes and jammed the gearshift into Reverse before Trinity issued the order.

Something in her peripheral vision caused her to stall. She blinked as she watched the two men climbing out of the silver SUV. “They’re running.”

She hadn’t realized she’d said the words out loud until Trinity bolted from the vehicle.

Von hissed a curse. The man was going to get himself shot jumping out in the middle of the street like this with two known scumbags already running scared.

She rammed the gearshift back into Drive and barreled around the SUV they’d left blocking the street, using the sidewalk for passage.

One of the men darted to the right into an alley.

Von braked. Her SUV slid to an abrupt stop and she jammed into Park.

Trinity overtook the man still running down the middle of the street.

Von released her seat belt and burst out of the vehicle. She headed after the man who’d charged into the alley.

She reached beneath her jacket and wrapped her fingers around the butt of her weapon.

Her target body slammed a door in an attempt to break into the building to the right. The door didn’t budge. He lunged forward once more.

Von was close enough to hear him panting for breath.

That was the thing about bad guys. They took lots of risks but didn’t bother staying in shape.

She dove forward. Grabbed his jacket. Her momentum sent him stumbling forward, face-first onto the pavement. He tried to buck her off.

Clamping her thighs around his waist, Von shoved the muzzle of her weapon into the back of his skull. “Don’t move.” She grabbed a handful of stringy brown hair when his right hand continued to fumble around beneath him. “If that’s a weapon you’re going for, don’t bother.” She nudged his scalp a little harder with the business end of her .9 mm. He stilled.

“Slowly,” she warned, “draw your hands from under you and spread them above your head.” When he’d done as she instructed, she released his hair and reached beneath him. “No wonder you didn’t pull it out sooner.” His weapon had slid deep into his pants. For now, it was basically out of his reach, as well as hers.

“Charlie Jones?” she asked. Looked like him, but it was pretty damned dark in this alley and she couldn’t be certain.

“Who’s asking?” he snarled.

She jabbed the muzzle deeper. “A friend.” No wallet in his back pockets. She doubted he carried any ID. “Are you Charlie Jones?”

“Maybe. You a cop?”

“Look.” She revised her strategy. “I’m not a cop. And I don’t really care who you are or what you’ve done, I just want some answers about an associate of yours. Then you can be on your way.”

Several seconds ticked off. “So ask. Maybe I’ll answer.”

Since she hadn’t heard any gunfire she assumed Trinity’s situation was under control.

“Kobi Larkin,” Von said. “Where is he?”

The scumbag kissing the asphalt barked a laugh. “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“You know him, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. So what? I know a lot of people.”

Von twisted her fingers in the guy’s hair and pulled hard. He grunted. “Did you see him today?”

“Depends,” he snarled.

“Did you see him?”

“Yeah, I saw him.”

She loosened her grip on his oily hair. “Did he have a little girl with him?”

The bastard snorted. “Yeah. Sweet little thing.”

Von barely restrained the need to pull the trigger. “Where’s the little girl now?”

The wail of sirens split the night air.

Jones or whoever the hell he was tensed.

“If you want a head start,” she warned, “you’d better talk fast.”

“He wanted to make some money,” the lowlife said. “He had a real need, you know what I mean?”

Yeah, she knew exactly what he meant. “You gave him money? For what?” Fear and disgust exploded in her heart at the idea that any scumbag could be a parent. A person had to have a license to drive a vehicle … but anyone could be a parent—no prerequisites or licenses required.

“No. Man, I ain’t into that.” He made a disgusted sound. “But I know people … who are.”

“Who did you send him to?” Damn it all to hell. This couldn’t be right. What father would do this?

“Another associate of mine.”

“What’s his name and how do I find him?”

The sirens were closer now.

“I don’t know his name. Just his phone number. I call him and he gives a drop location.”

Von’s stomach waded into knots. “You called him on your cell?”

“Yeah.”

She reached into his pocket, pulled out the cell phone she’d felt when checking for his weapon. “Which number?” She opened up the log of recent calls, matched the one he recited from memory. A very close associate if he knew the number by heart.

Von pushed aside the personal feelings. She had to focus. The time the call was made seemed right based on the mother’s statement of events.

“What do you get out of the deal?” Von couldn’t keep the revulsion out of her voice, didn’t even try.

“Twenty percent.”

“Twenty percent of what?”

“A good-looking little girl like that? Thirty-five hundred. Sometimes more.” He sniggered. “You’d think even an idiot would know that changing your mind isn’t an option.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Von demanded.

“We’re done,” Jones growled. “Get off me before—”

Doors slammed on the street where she’d left her vehicle.

“Get off me!” He started to buck again.

She burrowed the muzzle deep into his flesh and leaned forward to whisper in his nasty ear. “Does he keep the kids or does he auction them?”

“He sells ‘em,” he muttered. “You said you’d give me a head start.”

“I lied.” Von pressed hard on his carotid artery. He tried to throw her off, but the insistent pressure won the battle, rendering him unconscious.

She rolled him onto his back and fished the weapon from his crotch.

A glance toward the street told her she hadn’t been spotted just yet.

She sprinted in the opposite direction, tossing the bastard’s weapon into a Dumpster. Having him wake up and use it on a cop or anyone else was a possibility she wanted to avoid.

At the other end of the alley, she checked the street in both directions. Another police cruiser, sirens flashing and blaring, skidded into a left turn headed for where her vehicle as well as Jones’s had been left. Two Chicago PD cruisers were parked in front of the duplex reportedly rented or leased by Jones.

Von needed cover until she could determine Trinity’s status and find new wheels.

First she had to get across the street without being spotted. Shouldn’t be too difficult considering the lack of working lights along the block.

She skimmed the offerings along the block, the warm glow pouring from the windows of most proclaiming inhabitants. Likely armed and unfriendly.

Just pick one.

One, only one, was dark as if no one was home or it was vacant.

Von took a breath and headed across the street. She took her time. Strolled leisurely. Walked right up the steps of the porch. No chairs or benches available.

Her heart pounding, she sat down on the top step.

From the corner of her eye she confirmed that no uniforms had headed her way.

She sent a text to Trinity.

Status?

While she waited for a response, she sent a text to Simon Ruhl with the number Jones claimed was his contact for the sale of Lily Larkin.

Von’s stomach cramped at the thought.

Don’t think about it. Just do what has to be done.

Von needed an address … anything to reach this bastard. This trafficker.

Bile burned the back of her throat.

What’re you doing sitting down?

Relief rushed through Von’s veins as she read the text from Trinity. She glanced around.