MULTIPLE MOTIVES (The Kate Huntington mystery series Book 1) (22 page)

He opened his mouth but Kate headed him off. “She’s right, Dad. You’re with Liz and me, as our guard. Rose, Skip, go! Go find him!”

They hurried to the sliding glass door and slipped out into the darkness. Her father closed and locked the slider behind them.

Kate swiped the tears off her face with her sleeve.

“Now what do
we
do?” Liz said from beside her on the sofa.

Sighing, Kate reached over and took her hand. “We sit and wait.”

While others search for our guy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Rob woke in a dimly lit room. His alarm clock was silent.

Did I oversleep?

His brain sent signals to his neck muscles to turn and look at the clock. Nothing happened.

Maybe it’s Saturday.

But why did his head hurt? Actually quite a few parts of his body hurt.

Cold. Need to pull the covers up
.

His brain sent signals down his arm. But his hand just flopped around, and felt bare skin and coarse chest hair.

This time the neural impulses sent to his neck were obeyed, and he was able to lift his head for a moment. It fell back down with a thud, sending a jolt of pain through his skull.

Must’ve been one hell of a frat party last night
.

He was lying on some kind of narrow cot, naked from the waist up and wearing dress pants, no shoes or socks.

Wait a minute!

He didn’t go to frat parties anymore. Hadn’t in years. He was married. Had kids. Shelley’s and Samantha’s faces swam in his mind’s eye.

My God, where the hell am I? Liz’ll be frantic.

He made a concerted effort to sit up. More pain, few other results. Another brief glimpse of hairy chest and gray pinstriped slacks. No belt. Okay, one more piece of information. A more lucid part of his mind realized that if he was this slow figuring out what was going on, he was going to die of old age first.

Die
…
something about death.
Ed’s death. Car blew up.

More fragments of memory drifted through his mind. Mac called. Working late. Fran brought him a ham sandwich. No, she brought the sandwich and then he was working late. Empty reception area. Throwing his cell phone across his office.

No, he’d only thought about doing that. Phone died. Couldn’t call Lou. Have to get to a meeting… some kind of council. Kate’s on the council.

Why are we on the same council?

He tried to think what he and Kate had in common that would put them on the same council. Had some clients in common.

That’s it!

They were looking for clients they had in common.

The final wisps of fog cleared.

Holy shit! I’ve been kidnapped by the killer!

His brain commanded his body to jump up and run. His body tried to obey. He could feel his legs twitch. His torso raised up partway and flopped around. Then he fell off the cot onto his face.

Excruciating pain in his head. His right eye was squished against a hard surface.

After a moment, he opened his left eye. The hard surface was a concrete floor. He tried to roll his eyeball around to the left to see more. His head swam. He closed the eye.

Okay, message to neck muscles. Pull up from the floor and turn head. Rest side of head on floor... There, that’s better.

He opened his eyes. It took his brain a moment to focus them both on the same spot–a dusty soup can, about eight feet away on a metal shelf. White, concrete block wall behind it.

Good. Okay, let’s try the eye thing again.

He rolled his eyes to the left, saw something. Then a wave of dizziness forced him to close his eyes. But he had an image in his mind.

Boards. Wide, rough, wooden boards. Side by side. Other boards, running along them, every few feet, at right angles to the flat boards.

Joists.

Another part of his mind had provided the word, but he couldn’t connect the dots.

Joists, joists…What are joists? Floor joists!

He’d been looking up at the underside of a floor. He was in a basement.

Hallelujah, maybe I’ll get out of here before I’m ninety.

Eyes still closed, he had a short debate with himself. Should he try to move again or open his eyes first? Move first, so he was in a position to see more. Then open the eyes.

After several moments of concentration, he managed to get enough neural impulses going down the correct pathways to flop over onto his back. Knives of pain shot through various parts of his body. His skull throbbed.

He lay still, praying for the pain to end. Eventually it subsided. He opened his eyes. Cement wall to his left, cot against it, small window near the top. On the adjacent wall, shelves, dusty cans. Floorboard ceiling.

He couldn’t see the other side of the room without turning his head. But his head hurt like hell and would hurt worse if he moved it. He was getting tired of pain.

Just move the eyes instead.

He rolled his eyes toward the right. Nothing but the floorboards above. He tried to roll them a bit further. The basement room spun, then blurred into darkness.

~~~~~~~~

Kate woke to the sound of soft snoring. Her legs were covered by a throw that usually resided on the back of the Franklins’ family room sofa. Her father had also tucked part of it around Liz, who was curled up on the sofa beside her.

Another gentle snore. Near the slider, her father was sitting in a recliner that was
not
tilted back. But despite keeping the chair upright, he was sound asleep. Mac’s long-barreled revolver, that Kate had given him, was resting in his lap.

There was a soft knock on the front door, then a faint voice. “Officer Hernandez, reporting for duty.”

Kate gently slid out from under the blanket, trying not to wake Liz. She glanced at her watch as she headed for the door. Ten of seven. Remembering Rose’s routine from the night before, Kate stood to the side of the front door and twitched the curtain aside to make sure it was Rose.

She opened the door and took in the young woman’s disheveled uniform. Her throat closed. A wave of jumbled emotions swept over her. The only one she could identify was gratitude.

Rose turned around from locking the door and looked up into her face.

“Did you find him?”

Rose shook her head.

Kate struggled not to burst into tears.

After a moment, she said, “Are you going to get in trouble for reporting to duty looking…” She paused, unable to think of a diplomatic way to say that Rose looked like she’d been dragged through a sewer.

Rose smirked a little. “I think we’ve got an I-won’t-tell-if-you-don’t situation. Caught Jackson sleeping. Rapped on his window. Jerk jumped out of his skin.”

“What did he say when he got a good look at you?”

“He leered at me and asked if I wanted to party with
him
tonight. Thought I’d been out on the town, I guess, and never made it home to change.”

“Ick!”

“Yeah! I told him, when donkeys fly. Now I need a shower for two reasons.”

“Where’s the other officer?”

“In his cruiser further down the street. But we’re vulnerable in the back of the house, without Skip or Lou.”

Kate leaned closer and whispered, “And my father’s not good at staying up all night at his age.”

“I heard that, lass. I was just restin’ me eyes.” Dan was helping Liz around the corner. Her crutches were still missing in action. The haunted look in her eyes said she’d realized that if Rose had found her husband, she and Kate wouldn’t be chatting quietly in the living room.

But Rose answered the unasked question anyway. “No, we didn’t find him, but I did find something else interesting. Can we sit down?”

“Be with you in a minute, ladies. I think I’ll check the house.”

Kate muttered, “In case there were intruders while he was resting his eyes.”

“I heard that, lass,” her father called back over his shoulder as he headed for the stairs.

They moved into the family room, and Rose sank into a chair. “Found a big wheelbarrow, flipped over, in some tall grass at the back edge of the parking lot. Officers must have missed it in the dark last night. It was probably swiped from the construction site down the street. Used a stick to lift up one side. Grubby piece of cloth under it. I’m thinking that if Rob was unconscious, the wheelbarrow may have been used to get him away from the building. I need to call Phillips and tell him about it, so he can send the crime scene techs out. But my brain’s too tired to think of an explanation for how I discovered it.”

“You could say you drove past the building this morning,” Kate said. “Play the eager beaver rookie trying to impress the detective by checking out the scene on your own time. And while you’re at it, pump him for anything the police have learned.”

As Rose got out her phone, she gave Kate a tired smile. “You may not be a good actress, but you’re great at writing the screenplay.”

Kate attempted to return the smile without total success. She suspected it looked more like a grimace.

She walked across the room to use her own phone. There was no way she was going to try to see clients today. She left a message on the center’s voicemail, asking Pauline to reschedule her appointments for that day. Then she added, “On second thought, I think I need to clear my schedule for the next few days. Tell them I have the flu. Thanks.”

Rose was still on her phone. “Yes, sir… No, sir… Will do. Thank you, sir.” She disconnected, then mimicked sticking her finger down her throat and gagging.

Kate managed a brief smile this time.

Before Rose could say anything, they heard tapping on the slider. “It’s me, Skip.”

Rose went over to twitch the drapes back and then let him in.

“Sorry, Kate. I was starting to walk into things,” he said. “Figured I should report in and then get an hour or two of sleep.”

“Of course.” If the searcher wasn’t offering news, they probably didn’t have any, but she asked anyway. “Find anything?”

Skip shook his head. “Afraid not.”

Liz sent him off to the kitchen to forage for food. When her father returned from checking the house, Kate motioned them into seats and nodded to Rose.

“Lou’s awake, finally. His doc was apparently getting worried ’cause he was out so long. Took them several tests to figure out what drug had been used on him. It was an animal tranquilizer, for horses and cows. Unfortunately, Lou doesn’t have a clue what happened. Said Rob called him and asked him to come up to the office and get him if he wasn’t down by eight. Last thing Lou remembers is heading inside to do that, and being hit by a stun gun from behind.”

Rose’s jaw clenched. “But Detective Asshole’s trying to get him to say it was Rob who stunned him. Said he’s going to ‘take another crack at the
retard’
when the doc thinks he’s rested enough. Soon as this is over, I’m getting out of there, before I kill that man!”

“Gotta wonder how he’s managed to survive this long,” Skip drawled as he leaned against the doorjamb, sandwich in one hand, glass of water in the other. “Kinda surprised nobody’s taken him out before now.”

Validation from someone who’d only met Phillips once seemed to calm Rose down. She nodded sharply. “Lazy bastard’s sending an officer down to check out the wheelbarrow, but he didn’t sound too interested. Once the lab gets hold of it, maybe they’ll find prints on it. No prints were on the briefcase but Rob’s and his admin assistant’s. She identified the suit jacket as his.”

“Where’s Mac?” Dan asked.

“I called him when I needed to head back here. He hadn’t found anything. Told him we should come back and check in. He just growled and hung up.” The last part was accompanied by an eye roll.

“Liz, call Mac and tell him to get his butt back here,” Kate said. He wouldn’t give Liz any grief. “You all need rest and refueling, and then we’ll think about what to do next. And check on Ben, please, Liz. We may need him soon.”

She turned back to Rose. “Thank you! Now get yourself one of those.” She pointed at the remnants of sandwich in Skip’s hand. “And there’s a bedroom and bath down the hall next to the stairs. Shower and nap time.”

“Can’t sleep. I’m on duty.”

“Rose, I don’t have the energy to argue. We’ll resist the temptation to tell your boss. Now go!” After another moment of hesitation, Rose went.

“Skip, I know you need rest too, but I have a couple questions for you first. You want another sandwich?”

“Good idea.”

As they headed for the kitchen, they passed Rose, carrying an apple. “Too tired to make a sandwich,” she mumbled, shuffling toward the back hall.

Kate sat down at the kitchen table as Skip got out bread and lunch meat. “Want one?” he asked.

Her stomach growling answered for her and Skip flashed her a quick grin. He constructed two huge sandwiches with meat, cheese, and tomato. Kate was grateful he didn’t get out Rob’s jar of pickles. She wasn’t sure she could hold it together if he did.

He handed her a plate. She ate a bite of her sandwich, then asked, “How well do you know Lou?”

Skip grimaced. “Not that well. We don’t hang out together outside of work.”

“You don’t like him?” She took another bite, realizing she was hungrier than she’d thought.

“It’s not that… It just kinda bothers me that he reinforces the stereotype, you know, if you got muscles, then you can’t have brains. Not that he can help it. He’s not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree. And he’s from New Jersey yet, to complete the stereotype. ‘Hey, what’s youse guys doin’ over dere?’” Skip mimicked Lou’s accent.

Kate produced a faint smile.

“That sounds horrible, doesn’t it? It’s not the guy’s fault.”

“But working with him makes it harder to get people to realize you
do
have brains,” Kate said.

Skip nodded.

“Do you think Lou’s bulb is dim enough he’d get confused, if someone’s trying to convince him something happened that didn’t?”