Avenging Alex (15 page)

“Can you tell me anything else about the van?”

The man shook his head. “No, sorry. That's all I remember.”

John thanked the man and he turned to grab his mail sack from the floor of the truck.

“Oh, wait a minute. There was somethin' else. The word Christian somethin' or other was stenciled on the side. Maybe it was some kind of old church bus. I couldn't make out any of the other words.”

“Thanks. You've been a big help.”

John called Donovan to apprise him of the details that he'd gotten from the mailman.

Donovan wiped the residue of cocaine from the base of his nose and pinched his nostrils together and hissed, “Hello.”

“Hey, Harley, it's John.”

“What's up, buddy?”

“I got a lead I need you to follow up on.”

“Okay. What ya got?”

John hesitated. “You all right, man? You sound funny.”

“Yeah, my sinuses are actin' up, that's all.”

“Where are you?”

“I came home to get some medicine.”

“Will you be able to check this out for me?”

“Yeah, yeah. What ya got?”

“I found a mailman who saw a dark blue or black church van parked outside the Sullivan house between one-thirty and two o'clock yesterday afternoon. He said it had the word Christian something written on the side of it.”

Donovan sniffed and ran his fingers through his tousled mane. “That's kinda vague, John. You have any idea how many church vans in or around Monrovia that could fit that description?”

“Yeah, I know it's not a lot to go on, but we can at least run a list and see what comes up. I already got Detective McFarland looking into it. If we pool our resources we should be able to narrow it down.”

“Okay, I'll get on it when I get back to the office.”

“Did you reach out to Obafemi's son and daughter?”

“Just waitin' for a call back.”

“Keep me posted.”

“You got it, buddy.”

Donovan hung up his phone and snorted another line of cocaine from a small mirrored tray that lay on the table in front of him. He tucked his shirt back into his pants, raked his fingers through his hair again, and placed another call.

“Chase is still diggin' . . . No, I got it covered. He doesn't know any more now than he did before. He's so strung out on that girl right now he's about as useful as a pogo stick in quicksand. Don't worry about it. If he gets any real leads you'll be the first to know. In the meantime I'm gonna keep after him to tell me where he took the girl.”

Alex's pulse quickened when her cell phone rang again. Another unknown caller. She answered it but didn't say anything right away. She listened to the dead air. “Who is this?”

“
Hola mi querida,
Alexandra.”

She froze.

“Are you enjoying our little game of cat and mouse?”

“Xavier.”

“I'm bored with it myself after all this time. That's why I've decided to accelerate the thrill and make things a bit more interesting.”

“What did you do to my mother?”

“Why don't you ask Inspector Chase?”

“What?”

“You are literally sleeping with the enemy.
¿Verdad?
How do you think I knew where to find you? La Bella . . . That quaint little bistro the two of you dined in together . . . The hotel you stayed in after. Oh yes, and then there was that very loud, very crowded nightclub in North Hollywood. You looked positively stunning.”

“It was you I saw.”

“I just wanted you to know that I was watching, biding my time, waiting for the precise moment to strike.

“You son of a bitch!”

“Poor Alexandra, the men in your life constantly disappoint you, don't they? First there was your father, then your ne'er-do-well husband. Oh, and let's not forget about the progenitor of that adorable little girl of yours.”

“What did you do to my baby?”

“Nothing yet. But what happens now is up to you.”

Alex's eyes teared up. “What do you want?”

“Well, I'm glad you asked. It's very simple really, I want a pound of flesh. I'll be in touch.”

The call ended and Alex jumped when the electronic lock clicked on the hotel room door. She grabbed the gun lying next to her on the bed and cocked it. “John?”

“Yeah, it's me.”

Alex thought about what Xavier said and wondered how else he could have known where she was.

“Open the door. I brought you some food.”

“Where are they, John?”

“Who?”

“You were in on this from the beginning, weren't you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“That's how Rivera knew where to find us. You played me.”

“Who told you that?”

Alex stood with her gun trained on the door and didn't answer.

“Come on, I hope you know me better than that. Look, I don't want to talk in the hall like this. Take the latch off the door and let me in. Alex, I'm not involved in this. I swear on the lives of my children. You have to believe me.”

Alex lowered the gun, unlocked the door, and stepped back into the room. John entered, looking around as if expecting to find someone else there. She flinched when he moved toward her.

“Give me the gun. I'm not going to hurt you.” He raised the bag in his hand. “See, it's just Chinese.”

“You did this. You put this whole thing in motion.”

“Alex, look at me. Look at me. Do you really think I'm behind all this?”

Tears streamed down her face. She took a deep breath and guardedly handed over the gun. He promptly removed the clip.

“You heard from Rivera, didn't you?”

She nodded. “He knows I'm here. He knows everything.”

John sat the bag down on the bureau and pulled Alex into an embrace. “You're shaking.”

“I've never felt so helpless.”

“Did he say anything that would give you an indication of where he was?”

“No. But he did say that I was sleeping with the enemy. How would he know that, John? How else would he know where I worked, or about the restaurant in L.A., or the hotel we stayed in that night?”

John pulled away and looked at her.

“What is it?”

“Your best enemies are the ones you don't see comin'. Dammit! How could I be so fuckin' stupid?” John smacked his forehead repeatedly. “I should have known.”

“You should have known what?”

“It's Donovan. It has to be Donovan.”

“Your partner? Harley Donovan? He's working with Rivera?”

“Him and his dumb-ass good ol' boy act.”

“What?”

“Donovan told me that his grandfather used to tell him that your best enemies are the ones you don't see comin'. Rivera said you were sleeping with the enemy. He may have tipped his hand and he doesn't even realize it.”

“What makes you think it's Donovan?”

“He found out about you from somebody and it sure as hell wasn't me.”

“But why would—”

“I hope to God I'm wrong, but it's the only thing that makes sense.”

“What if you're not wrong?”

“Then I'm gonna play his game. If he is mixed up in this I got to make him think he's still in control. It may be our only chance to get your mother and baby back.”

 

 

Despite Jamilah's attempts to calm her with singing, Cerena would not be placated. Her face reddened and her earsplitting tantrum echoed in the room.

“Shhhh . . . shhhh . . . shhhh,” Jamilah pleaded while rocking her and pacing the floor.

“Shut her up,” Gil shouted from the other side of the door.

Ade sat contemplatively. Jamilah thought that he almost looked as if he was praying; something perhaps he should have done before ever submitting to the machinations of a monster.

The door flung open and Gil raged in. “I warned you to shut that brat the hell up!”

Ade grabbed the serving tray from the bureau, sending dishes flying, and smashed Gil in the face as hard as he could. Blood sprayed from his nose and he fell back against the doorframe. Ade raised the tray to strike again as Gil rebounded and fired two shots into his chest.

Jamilah screamed and shielded Cerena's face to her bosom. Ade fell backward, clawing at an empty bureau and hitting his head as he sank to the floor. Gil kicked at his body, ensuring he was dead, before turning on Jamilah. “I'm gonna tell you one last time.”

A fit of coughing and wheezing overtook her, causing her to hyperventilate.

“Gil!” Pilar charged in and wrestled the gun from him. “
¡Estúpido cabron!
What the hell did you do?”

“He attacked me,” Gil defended. He wiped the blood from his face and held his hand out to her. “Look!”

The chaos was underscored by Cerena's muted cries and Jamilah's struggling for air.

Pilar checked Ade for a pulse. “You killed him?”

“He was tryin' to run,” Gil answered.

“You couldn't have just knocked him unconscious?”

“What are we gonna do about the old lady?”

Pilar tucked the gun into the waistband of her jeans and ran cursing into the other room to retrieve an inhaler. When she came back into the room she tossed it toward Jamilah and it landed near her feet. Shaking and clinging to Cerena, Jamilah picked up the device and frantically pumped the medication into her lungs without a second thought. After several minutes she was breathing normally again.

“Are you feeling better?” Pilar asked.

Jamilah nodded as anguished tears flowed and pooled at the base of her neck. “Could I please have a glass of water?”

Pilar glowered at Gil, who had his head back with a rag pressed against his nose. “Get rid of him and clean all of this up,” she commanded.

Jamilah turned away, unable to watch Gil carelessly hauling Ade's lifeless body from the room, leaving behind a bloody precursor for what lay ahead.

 

 

“Harley, what's up?”

“We found the van.”

“Where?”

“It was spotted by hikers at the base of Mount Bliss four miles east of Sawpit Canyon.”

John glanced over to be sure that Alex was still asleep and moved to the window. “What about Janette Sullivan and the baby?”

“No trace of them, but Obafemi was inside. He took two slugs to the chest.”

“Any word on his family?”

“I finally spoke to his son-in-law. They didn't know what he'd been into here. Apparently his daughter hadn't talked to him in over a week. I'm still trying to reach his son. Different time zones, you know.”

“I guess it doesn't matter now.”

“Not unless the dead man tells us something.”

“I'm more concerned about what the live one has to say,” John sneered.

“Huh?”

“Did you find any prints in the van or anything that might tell us anything other than we already know?”

“Forensics is sweeping it now. They're supposed to let me know if they come up with anything.”

“Whoever's doing this won't stop until they get their hands on Alex. Maybe it's time to throw out some bait.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, it's like yo' dear ol' granddaddy Herman might say, ‘to catch rats the cats take off their gloves.'” John disconnected the call and turned to Alex, who had awakened.

“What is it? What's happened?”

“Obafemi's dead.”

“Oh, God. What about my mother?”

John shook his head. “No sign of her yet.”

“So, what are we supposed to do now?”

“Now it's time to trap a big country-ass, redneck rat.”

Surrounded by the extravagant spoils of the drug profits he'd secreted away, Xavier Rivera slammed down the telephone receiver and scowled. The strapping Colombian combed his fingers through his now-short bleached mane and clenched his teeth. The unexpected news that Ade Obafemi was dead seemed more necessary than not; still he couldn't afford any more recklessness. Against his better judgment he decided that he would risk yet another return to the States and see to the satisfactory conclusion of this intrigue personally.

He unlocked the drawer of his marble-top desk and extracted his passport. He opened it, looked at the picture, and laughed, rubbing his unshaven chin. He then strode to the French doors on the other side of the large, opulent room and stared out over the picturesque fortress guarding the entrance to Havana Bay, known as the
Castillo de los Tres Reyes Magos del Morro.
He stepped out onto the balcony, sipping a mojito and puffing on a Montecristo cigar, and was calmed by tropical trade winds, contemplating victory. He knew that it was only a matter of time now before Alex resurfaced and he would have his revenge for her treachery.

 

 

The soothing sound of the sitar flowed throughout the softly lit exercise studio where a muscularly toned, highlighted brunette whispered, “
Namaste.
”

“
Namaste,
” repeated the fifteen other women anchored in the lotus position in front of her.

“Excellent work, everyone. See you all on Friday.”

The women whooped and clapped as they moved off the varied yoga mats scattered on the floor and gathered their belongings as they prepared to leave.

Lorraine Chase waved her good-byes, pulled the hood of her fitted warm-up suit over her head, and stuffed her towel and water bottle into her bag. “See you all Friday.”

“Aren't you coming to lunch with us?” one of the women asked.

“I can't. I have a hair appointment with Geno in an hour and you know how bitchy he gets when you're late.”

She continued out of the building and found Harley Donovan waiting for her.

“Harley, what are you doing here?”

He pushed his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose. “I'm sorry for showing up like this, Lorraine. It's about John.”

“John? What's happened?”

“He's been in an accident.”

“What? Where is he?”

“He's been taken to Huntington Hospital.”

“Oh my God.” She fretfully rifled through her bag for her keys. “I can't remember where I parked my car.”

“It's okay. I'll drive you.” He took her by the arm and ushered her to his SUV.

“Buckle up,” he said, noting her distraction as he drove off.

“Harley, tell me what happened.”

“He was on his way to arrest a fugitive who was apprehended in Orange County and he got blindsided by a delivery truck on the freeway.”

Lorraine gasped. “You weren't with him?”

He shook his head.

“How bad is it?”

“All I know is his truck was totaled.”

“Oh, God.”

Her cell phone rang and when she reached into her bag Donovan swerved to the side of the street and pulled his gun. “Let it ring.”

Lorraine gasped. “Harley, what the hell are you doing?”

“I'm real sorry about this, Lorraine.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“If you don't do exactly what I say two little kids are gonna grow up orphans. Is that what you want?”

“Where's John?”

“I don't know, but that's what we're gonna find out.”

She grabbed the door handle and he hit the electric locks and snatched her by the hair. She shrieked.

“Please don't make me shoot you, Lorraine. We just want John and the girl.”

“I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen John in days.”

“You don't have to know where he is. As soon as he finds out we got you he'll come to us.”

“Harley, I don't understand. Why are you doing this? I thought John was your partner. You're supposed to be friends.”

“Friends come and go; you just better hope that there's still a little piece of him that cares what happens to you. The people I work with won't give a damn whether you make it home or not.”

“What's happened to you? Who's making you do this?”

“The less you know the better. Now, here's what's gonna happen, there's a pair of handcuffs in the glove compartment. I want you to take them out and fasten one end to your wrist, then loop the cuffs through the door handle and secure the other wrist.”

“No. I won't do it.”

He twisted a clump of her hair around his fist and jerked. “John Michael and little Chloe are gonna be so lonely without you. Now, get the damn handcuffs.”

“Okay.”

Donovan released his hold and she did what he instructed her to do. Her cell phone rang again. He wrestled the phone from her bag and chucked it out the window.

“Where are you taking me?”

He didn't answer.

“What happened to you, Harley? You used to be a good guy.”

“I used to be a lot of things.”

“How could you do this to John?”

“It's touching that you still care so much about him, considering he's been screwin' the woman he's supposed to be protecting.”

Lorraine looked away.

Donovan put his Bluetooth device in his ear and dialed his phone. “I got her. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

They drove several miles before Donovan pulled off the interstate. He extracted an untraceable cell phone from under his seat and attached a device that would distort his voice so as not to be identified.

“What are you doing?” Lorraine asked.

“Upping the ante,” he responded. “Not a peep out of you, understand?”

Lorraine sat, terrified, pulling at her handcuffed wrists, resisting the urge to scream for fear of what Donovan might do.

John's cell phone rang as he emerged from the restroom. The call registered unknown. He brushed his hand over his face and head and answered. “This is Inspector Chase.”

“Hello, Inspector. How are you this fine afternoon?”

“Who the hell is this?”

“Let's just say I'm a concerned citizen.”

“What do you want?”

“You know what we want, Inspector. By the way, did you like that little gift we left you over near the canyon? My associates wanted to set the whole thing on fire but I convinced them it would draw unnecessary attention.”

“I assume you called because you want the girl.”

“Ding! Ding! Ding! You're pretty good at this. If you liked the first act of this drama wait until you get a load of the finale.”

“You know what, I'm gonna find you and when I do that will be your finale.”

“That's pretty big talk coming from a man who doesn't know where to begin to look.”

“I guess that makes us even, because you have no idea where to find what you're looking for either.”

“So, how about we make a trade? We'll give you back your wife if you hand over Alex Solomon. Remember your wife, Inspector? The pretty little redhead. The mother of your children.”

John was taken aback by that reveal.

“Are you still there, Inspector?”

“If you hurt Lorraine I swear—”

“That's touching. You had just the right amount of indignation in your voice, too. We'll call you back in an hour and tell you where to meet us. If you double-cross us we'll kill Jamilah Solomon and your wife and then we'll come after your children. Is Alex Solomon really worth all that to you?”

After the call disconnected John dialed Lorraine. She didn't answer her cell, nor did anyone answer at home. “Goddammit!”

“John, what is it? What's wrong?” Alex asked.

“That son of a bitch took Lorraine.”

Alex clasped her hand over her mouth.

John removed his standard-issue Glock from his back holster and checked the chamber. “He's gonna pay for this shit!” He charged for the door.

“Wait. I'm coming with you.”

“No. You're not going anywhere. Stay here. I mean it, Alex. Don't leave this room.”

“I can't just sit around here worrying and not knowing what's going on and losing my mind.”

“That's exactly what you're going to do. You have got to trust me to take care of this.”

“I'm scared.”

“I know you are.” John went to the nightstand next to the bed and scribbled something on a pad. He ripped off the paper and handed it to her.

“What's this?”

“It's my stepfather's cell phone number. I really don't want to drag him into this, but right now he's the only person I can trust. If I don't come back . . . If you don't hear from me in the next two hours you need to call him and tell him what's happened. He knows people. He can get you out of here.” John pulled the clip of Alex's .380 from his pocket. “Take this. Use it if you have to.”

“John . . . be careful.”

He caressed her cheek. “I think the time for being careful is over.”

 

 

John's cell phone rang on his way to his truck. He answered without thinking about it. “Yeah?”

“Inspector Chase, at long last.”

“Chief Toliver.”

“Well, at least you remember my name. Do you also remember that I'm also the boss?”

“Look, Chief, I'm sorry. I've been meaning to call you. There's a lot goin' on that you need to know about, but I don't have time to talk to you about it right now.”

“Well, you better damn well make time, Inspector. I don't know what kind of monkey-ass operation you think I'm running here, but you've got some explaining to do. I got a call from Sam McFarland at the Monrovia PD and guess what tales he's been regaling me with?”

“Chief, I really gotta go.”

“I need you to come in and talk to me, Inspector.”

“I will . . . later.”

“Not later. Right now, John.”

“I can't.”

“Inspector Chase, if you're not in my office within the hour it's your ass, do you understand me? This is your entire career we're talking about here.”

John jumped in his truck and started the ignition. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Look, Alex Solomon's cover is blown and I have a pretty good idea how Rivera found out. His people took Jamilah Solomon and they took my wife and they're threatening to kill my kids.”

“John, where are you? Where is Alex Solomon?”

“I can't tell you that. But, she's in a safe place for now.” John looked at his watch. “I'm running out of time. I gotta go.” John hung up his phone, threw the truck in gear, and tore out of the hotel parking lot.

He made his way to Donovan's loft and loitered impatiently outside. When someone exited the building he slipped in, bypassed the elevator, and charged up six flights of stairs. He pounded on the door. “Harley, it's me, John.” There was no response. John looked around to see if he'd disturbed any of the neighbors. When he realized he hadn't he deftly picked the lock on the door and stole his way inside. Certain there would be something to find he plundered the apartment, turning over furniture and rifling through trash. He scoured every drawer and closet in the kitchen, living room, and bedroom.

While searching through a closet in the bedroom he discovered an electronically keyed wall safe hidden behind a row of tailored suits. “Dammit!” John sighed and wiped his hand over his mouth as he started punching a sequence of numbers. “Birthday . . . uh, let's see. March . . . March . . . 030973 . . . 730903. C'mon dammit, think.” Stepping outside the closet John caught a glimpse of a framed photo on the nightstand of Donovan and his dog. He thoughtfully rubbed the stubble on his chin and stared at the picture
.

John slapped his forehead. “Son of a . . . Could it be that obvious?” Rushing back to the safe he held his breath and carefully punched the numbers 01152005. The safe clicked and popped open. “Thank you, Bear.”

Among other documents that bore the names and photographs of Gilbert Mosley and Pilar Vélez there was a passport that Donovan used to travel under the name Herman Donovan. The safe also contained a stack of confidential papers that detailed information and dates about Alex Solomon's allocation into the program. There were also surveillance pictures of Jamilah and the baby, and of him and Alex together outside her house, in the parking lot of the boutique, getting into his car at the restaurant, and the hotel they'd stayed in while in Los Angeles. He took the photographs of Pilar and Gil and the more telling pictures taken of him and Alex; he decided to leave the rest behind for the police to find. Every shred of betrayal John uncovered made him angrier. Before the sun set on this day there would be hell to pay.