Cache a Predator (24 page)

At first they ate in awkward silence. Where should he start a conversation when he hadn’t been home for more than five years? “The whole department is working 24/7 to find this guy. We’re getting leads, getting closer. I think she’s safe.” He blew at the hair in his eyes. “Our perp seems to have a vendetta against sex offenders, not little girls. Even though we don’t think he’s a stable guy, I’m hopeful he’s not … harming … her.” He swallowed a lump in his throat.

His father said, “We have to keep the faith and believe that to be the truth. He cleared his throat and reached over to Brett’s hand, squeezing it. “Look, I meant what I said at the press conference this morning. They’re going to find Quinn, and I’ll represent you on her case. According to CPS you have an appointment on Tuesday with the judge. I’m going to make sure you get full custody.”

A tear rolled down Brett’s cheek.

His father continued. “Don’t worry about that guy who’s threatening to sue you, either. He doesn’t have a case. You aren’t married to Ali and had no control over her driving under the influence. The guy can’t prove negligence on your part.”

Was his father supporting him now because Brett had divorced Ali? Why couldn’t he have been more supportive back then—when Brett had decided to marry her? Would his love always be conditional—on
his
terms?

Brett closed his eyes and willed the negative thoughts away. What did it matter now? He didn’t want to think about anything but Quinn. It consumed too much energy. He nodded toward his father. “Thanks. I appreciate your help.”

Brett lowered his gaze to his plate, squeezing the tears from his eyes, and concentrated on eating.

The food tasted delicious, but he had to force himself to eat. It didn’t seem right that he should eat when Quinn wasn’t with him. He took small bites, knowing his mother would be crushed if he didn’t sample everything. The rolls melted in his mouth. Quinn would love them. She’d never been to this house, but she would someday.

A lump formed in his throat again. It stuck there every time he thought about her.

His phone vibrated. He clicked it off his belt loop and glanced at the screen. A blocked number. Maybe it was a lead. He answered, “Officer Reed here.”

Distant breathing rasped into the phone. Brett said, “Hello?”

“Daddy?” Her voice was a whisper.

Brett shot out of his seat. The chair tumbled backward, falling onto the floor with a clatter, just missing Max, who scurried out of the way. “Quinn? Where are you?”

Brett’s parents froze, watching and listening.

“I don’t know. I’m scared.” Her voice quivered.

“Daddy’s looking for you. Can you tell me where you are, or who has you?”

“He’s sleeping. He told me he’ll take care of me, that you’re a bad man.” Her voice was barely audible.

“No, I’m not a bad man. I love you, Quinn. I’ll find you. Who is the man?”

“I don’t know. He wants to play games.”

“What does he look like?” Brett’s adrenaline raced.

“Scarwy, I’m scawed.” She had trouble pronouncing her r’s.

“Look out the window. What do you see?”

There was a pause.

“Twees, weeds, and gwass.”

“How did you get there? In a car?”

“A twuck.”

“What color is it?”

“Blue.”

“Do you know the man’s name?”

No answer.

“Quinn, are you shaking your head? You need to tell me yes or no because I can’t see you nod.”

“No.”

“Has he hurt you?” He held his breath.

“No.”

Brett exhaled. He gripped the edge of the table, his shoulders slacking. “The first chance you get, run out the door and go for help.”

There was a commotion in the background like knocking, or maybe Quinn dropped the phone. “Quinn?”

The phone went dead.

Brett shouted, “Quinn?”

His mother had come to his side. She held his arm as tight as a rubber band.

He stared at his phone, wishing he could make it ring again. “No!” He pounded his fist on the table. The plates and silverware clanked. “I can’t stay here. I need to go back to the precinct.” He turned.

His mother followed him toward the front door. “Can’t you call her back? Hit Redial?”

“It doesn’t work that way. The number was blocked.”

She hustled alongside him, patting his back. “She’s alive and she’s smart. You’ll find her.”

His father followed them too, with Max behind him. “Where was she?”

“I don’t know. She said in the middle of trees and a field. I’ll call Clay, and get a tracer put on my phone. Maybe she’ll call again.”

His father opened the closet door and reached for his sweater. “I’m going with you. I want to help.”

They stood in the foyer. “I appreciate it, Dad, but the best way you can help is if you stay here and pray for Quinn.”

His father’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, but if you change your mind, I’m here for you.” He reached over and squeezed Brett’s arm.

“Thanks, Dad.” Brett held his father’s eyes with his own. “That means a lot.” He gripped his old man’s arm, and as he turned to go he saw more tears in his mother’s eyes. They were probably because of Quinn, but no doubt also because his father had asked to help. Tragedy had a way of bringing family together.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dark clouds hung low in the sky as Brett headed south in his cruiser back to the station. Was a storm brewing? He hoped not. Storms scared Quinn, and who would be there to hold her hand? Max panted in the backseat, looking outside as if trying to find Quinn. Brett turned back to the dog. “I know, buddy. You’re usually the one hanging out with her in weather like this, aren’t you?”

The air felt as heavy as his thoughts. Perspiration trickled down his back. He called Clay and told him about Quinn’s call and asked to have a tracer put on his cell.

Clay said, “I’ll get right on it. That’s good news, man. See, this guy isn’t going to hurt her. We’ll find him. I can’t believe Quinn knew how to punch in your number. My nine-year-old couldn’t do that.”

“I showed her how to do it from the home phone, but I never explained the area code thing, so she must be in this calling zone.” Brett put his signal on and turned the corner. “She also said the guy had a blue truck.”

“We’re tracing all blue trucks in this county, but that’s a huge number.”

“Any other leads?”

“A few reports from people claiming they saw her, but when we checked them out, they were dead ends. Sorry, man. But Mark’s here.”

“Why?”

“He says he needs to talk to you. Only you. I was just going to call you—”

“Really? That’s great.” Brett’s heart fisted. Maybe this was the breakthrough they needed. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Perfect.” Clay’s cell phone rang in the background. He asked Brett to hold while he took the other call. “How’s my little man? Are you going to basketball practice today?”

He must be talking to his son.
Brett interrupted, “Hey, Clay, I’ll talk to you when I get there.” He flipped on his cruiser’s flashing lights and sped to the precinct.

What did Mark have to say? Could he be the whacker? No, Quinn knew Mark. She would have said he had her. But maybe Mark was involved somehow or knew who was. Brett shook his head, trying to shake the dull sleeplessness out of his confused brain.

#

Brett found Mark sitting alone with his arms folded in the interrogation room, his face red and his eyes watering like he’d been crying. Clay waited outside the door, observing through the window.

Brett pulled a chair out and placed it in front of Mark, then straddled it. “How’s it going?”

Mark stared off to the side and crossed his legs at the ankles. His voice quivered. “Any word about where Quinn is?”

Brett shook his head. “No. Nothing.” He leaned toward Mark. “Why, do you know where she is?”

Mark turned and met Brett’s eyes. “How would I know? You think I took her?” His face turned red. “I love Quinn. I’d never hurt her.”

Brett cleared his throat. “Why are you here then?”

He chewed his bottom lip. “To tell you what happened the other day with Ali.” Mark paused. “I screwed up, okay?” He took a deep breath. “Ali needed money. She begged me. Told me she owed someone, and if she didn’t get it she was worried about Quinn.” He ran his fingers along his bald head. “I shouldn’t have gone to the house. I wanted to catch the asshole who was threatening her. She begged me not to tell you. She was afraid if you knew she was using again, she’d lose Quinn for good.”

“Why was she worried about Quinn?”

“Because she didn’t want the druggies to see her, for fear they’d hurt her, or something. I think that’s why she locked her in the room—to protect her.”

Mark stood and walked across the room, pacing. “Ali said she wanted to get clean. Stay clean. I went to the house and waited in the bushes for the dude to show. I was only trying to help her.”

Tears fell down Marks face. “I should have called the police, but Ali didn’t want you to know.” He wiped his hands on his slacks.

Brett recognized Mark’s guilty look. He’d seen it before. Mark had been trying to save Ali her whole life, to make up for the times when he hadn’t been home to stop the abuse, to save his little sister.

Mark returned to his seat, across from Brett. “When the asshole showed for the money, I jumped out of the bushes with a bat and threatened him. Told him I was going to call the cops if he didn’t leave my sister alone.”

“What did he look like?”

Mark shut his eyes. “Skinny with tattoos on his arms. Rotting teeth, reddish hair, maybe in his twenties. He looked like one of those guys in meth commercials.” He put his head in his hands and rubbed his face. “The dog started barking just inside the house. Ali was worried about me, so she opened the door, told the scumbag to leave. Max got out, barring his teeth, snapping at the guy. I told Ali to stay inside with the dog, but she didn’t listen. The dude said he’d break every bone in Ali’s body if he didn’t get his money. I swung the bat at his legs. The kid ran and Max chased him, barking. Ali went crazy, crying and moaning. After I calmed her down, I got in my truck and looked for the dog, but he was gone.” He exhaled loudly. “I’m sorry.”

Brett looked away and shook his head, inhaling deeply. Then he turned back and glared at Mark. “So, you didn’t bring Max home the other night?”

“No, I swear. I didn’t have the dog.”

Brett searched his eyes. He seemed sincere, but he didn’t know what to believe. “Why were you parked outside my house then?”

“I wanted to see if the drug dude was going to return.”

Through clenched teeth Brett said, “Quinn might have been safe right now if it hadn’t been for you. Trying to save Ali didn’t work, did it?” He pounded the table. “You should have called me.”

Mark hung his head. “I know that now. I’m sorry.” His voice was just above a whisper.

Brett rubbed his gritty eyes. “Did you know this guy you confronted, or his name?”

“No, never saw him before.”

“Did Ali mention where she knew him from? Work?”

Mark shook his head.

“Why come clean now?”

“Look, I love my sister. I know how much Quinn means to her. I didn’t want to ruin things for her, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. What about protecting Quinn? Did you ever stop to think how Ali was putting Quinn in danger? Did you
ever
take time to think about that?” Brett stood and paced.

The door opened and Clay walked in, carrying a stack of binders. “We need you to look through some photos, see if you can identify this guy.”

Mark hesitated, chewing his bottom lip. “Sure. You don’t think this guy has Quinn, do you?”

Brett stopped pacing. “No, I doubt it. He doesn’t seem the type to whack jacks or steal little girls.” He turned to Mark one last time. “You better be telling the whole truth or your ass is fried.”

“I am. I never wanted this to happen. I had no idea Ali was so addicted.” Tears filled his eyes again. “I should have stayed with her after Max chased the druggie away, but I was late for work, and I had a meeting to go to, and I couldn’t lose my job. I should have gone back to take care of Quinn.”

Brett said, “Yes, you should have.” He turned to go but hesitated, realizing Mark was probably sincere. “Look, Ali got herself into this predicament. It wasn’t your job to take care of her.”

Clay set the photos in front of Mark and pulled up a chair for himself.

Mark rubbed his hands together, twisting them in a nervous manner. “There’s something else.”

Brett paused with his hand on the door.

Mark said, “I knew Ali was impaired before she got behind the wheel, before her accident. She stopped to see me at the bank.” His voice cracked. “I should have taken … her keys away.” He pressed his fingers into his eyes as the tears dripped.

What a messed-up family. Brett said, “She would never have given them to you. Ali is the only one responsible for her actions.” Where had Brett heard that before? Sarah? Yes, she’d told him the same thing.

Mark wiped his face with the crook of his arm and took a deep breath.

Clay opened the first book of photos and slid it in front of Mark.

Brett left the room disappointed they weren’t any closer to finding their guy.

#

Brett sat in his cruiser heading to Sarah’s. Max panted again in the backseat.
Where are you, Baby Quinn? Lots of people are looking for you.

Clay had promised to keep a couple of officers staked out at his house and Ali’s just in case Quinn found her way home on her own, or in case the perp had a change of heart. Brett doubted it would happen, but prayed it would.

The clouds had disappeared, and the threat of a thunderstorm seemed over. The sun had begun its descent, but it would be a while before darkness fell. He didn’t want to think about Quinn being with a madman another night.

Before he left the station, he’d checked in with the chief to see if there were any new leads. None. A few of the officers guarding cache units had called in with zero findings. One officer found another Snickers wrapper near a cache, but that was all.

He drove his fist into the steering wheel and swore under his breath. After unclipping his cell phone from his belt buckle, he called Sarah.