Restoreth My Soul (Psalm 23 Mysteries) (16 page)

“I don’t know. He seemed to think that if they were arresting her, she must have done something to deserve it. I couldn’t quite believe it.”

“Is he insane?” Jeremiah asked.

Dave winced. “No, but he tends to be more a man of judgment than mercy, especially in times of stress.”

“I’m going to need you to give me his home address and forget that you did so,” Jeremiah said.

Dave licked his lips and nodded. “He lives over on Walnut. The green house at the end of the cul-de-sac.”

“Thank you,” Jeremiah said before spinning on his heel.

Traci was there, right in front of him. Her face was white and strained. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

“That’s none of your concern,” he said, unable to check the coldness in his voice.

“I saw Mark like this once, it didn’t end well,” she told him.

Jeremiah permitted himself a small smile. “Believe me when I tell you. I am nothing like your husband.”

She fell away from him with a small gasp and he walked past. The coldness in his stomach was settling over his entire body. It was an old, familiar feeling and he welcomed it because he knew it brought with it the strength to do whatever he must no matter the cost.

He had lied to Cindy in his delirium hours before. He had told her he had once been a different man. As he walked to the parking lot, though, he knew that wasn’t true. He was still the same man he always had been. He was just better at hiding it. That was okay because he knew what he had to do.

He made it to Cindy’s car. He knew that her purse was probably still inside the office, but he didn’t have time to try and get it or her keys away from them. He walked up to her car, broke the window, hotwired it, and thirty seconds later was driving out of the lot.

It would probably take them forever to realize the car was even missing. And by then he’d have done what he needed to.

He didn’t bother driving home. He drove straight to Pastor Roy’s house. He’d met the man only a couple of times and he’d never liked him. Not that that made this easier. It was already easy. He stood in the way of information he needed about Cindy’s captors.

Jeremiah parked out front and as he walked up to the front door debated whether he’d even bother knocking or just break straight in. In the end he decided to knock so that Roy wouldn’t have even a moment to try and call 911 before he could get his hands on him.

He rang the doorbell, knowing that if he pounded on the door that, too, might raise the man’s suspicions. A few seconds later he could tell that someone was standing on the other side of the door, probably looking out the peephole. Jeremiah forced a smile onto his face.

The door opened and Roy stood there, a look of surprise on his face.

“Rabbi? What brings you here?”

“A matter of grave concern to both of us. Do you mind if I come in so we can talk?”

“No, not at all,” Roy said. His body language was closed off, already hostile. He wasn’t open to anything Jeremiah might have to say on any topic. That was just fine by him.

He stepped inside the hallway and glanced around. It was a nice house, nothing fancy. There was a picture on the wall of Roy and a woman with gray hair. They were both smiling.

“I didn’t know you were married,” Jeremiah said.

Roy glanced in the direction he was looking. “My wife passed away a few years ago. It’s just me now.”

Jeremiah nodded. He had already guessed that since there were no other photos of children or grandchildren immediately visible but there were a few other pictures that looked like they were of his wife. He had loved her. On some level it was nice to know that he had been capable of caring about somebody other than himself.

“I’m sorry to hear that she’s passed away.”

Roy closed the door. He locked it and then turned to look at Jeremiah. “Well, it comforts me to know that one day I’ll go and join her,” he said, trying to sound optimistic.

Jeremiah turned, and quick as lightning wrapped his right hand around the man’s throat and slammed him against the wall. The pastor gasped and clawed at his hand, which just made Jeremiah tighten his grip.

“That day is going to be today unless you tell me everything I need to know about the people who kidnapped Cindy.”

Mark’s phone rang and he snatched it up. “Walters.”

“I think Jeremiah’s going to do something he shouldn’t,” Traci said.

Mark closed his eyes. “I was afraid of that. He didn’t hurt you or anything did he?”

“No.”

“Then that’s the only miracle I think we’re entitled to in that direction. I can’t worry about him right now. Can you get home, lock the door? Or better yet, can you go over to a friend’s house? These guys have been one step ahead of us from the start and I don’t want to have to worry about them grabbing you.”

“Yes. I can go stay with my folks. They’ve been wanting to talk to me about my sister and I’ve been putting it off.”

“Great, go. That way I’ll know you’re safe.”

“Just as long as you promise to be safe,” she countered.

“I will do everything in my power,” he said.

“I love you.”

“Not half as much as I love you. Call me when you get there.”

She hung up and as Mark put the receiver back in its cradle he saw Liam coming toward him and from the looks of it he had taken Mark seriously. He was loaded for bear.

“I’ve never seen so many weapons on one person before,” Mark admitted as Liam stopped at his desk.

“The rest are in the car.”

“Some of those aren’t even legal to own.”

Liam shrugged. “I inherited them from my grandpa. I told you. He was a collector.”

That might be so, but Liam hadn’t surrendered those particular weapons when he’d inherited them. Mark felt himself starting to smile. Before he could say anything, Daniels got up from his computer station and hurried over.

“Well?” Mark asked.

“I was able to track the van to a warehouse district and then I lost it. It’s probably somewhere right in that area.”

“Let’s go then, you’re coming with us,” Mark said.

Outside Mark got into his car and plugged his phone in to start charging. Daniels got in the front seat while Liam and all his gear ended up in the back.

A minute later they were on the road with Daniels directing.

“There’s only a couple of warehouses that are shut down. If they stayed in the area without changing cars and leaving then they’re likely to be in one of them. I doubt one of the manufacturing companies has them on the payroll and it would be harder for them to find a quiet corner to hide out.”

Twenty minutes later they were on the outskirts of town in the warehouse district. It wasn’t a large area. Most of the manufacturing in the area was located closer to Los Angeles, but there was still about a dozen warehouses. Some were used for construction and others for storage. Daniels had already checked and knew that four were supposed to be empty, belonging to businesses that had gone belly-up sometime in the past few years.

They pulled up across the street from the first one. Everything was dark, but then he had expected that it would be. It was unlikely that the people they were looking for would advertise their presence.

The three of them got out of the car and headed toward the front of the building. There was an office door next to a loading dock and they made for that. Mark didn’t see any cars in the vicinity but that also didn’t mean anything.

They had just reached the door when he heard a dog bark. He spun and saw a figure coming around the corner carrying a flashlight, a dog at his side.

“Police!” Mark called, tensing, prepared to give chase or find cover depending on what the figure did.

Instead the man picked up speed, walking straight for them, the flashlight bouncing around like crazy. When the man and dog were closer he saw that the dog was a Labrador mix. He couldn’t make out the man’s features, though, because he was shining the flashlight full on them.

Liam moved to the side, out of the shaft of light, effectively flanking the newcomer.

Smart move
, Mark thought.

“Detective, is that you? I haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving! Rascal, you remember the man?”

Mark squinted, trying to make out the features of the man holding the flashlight.

“It’s me, Harry! I was supposed to be at the Thanksgiving party at Cindy’s that you busted up, but I was in the hospital.”

The guard lowered the flashlight and Mark saw an older man with short cropped gray hair and a weathered face. He stared in shock as he realized that it was indeed Harry, one of the homeless men that had participated in the big charity event from the year before pairing the homeless with dogs to care for. Had he not identified himself Mark would never have recognized him. He had cleaned up considerably from what he remembered.

He dropped his eyes to the dog. “I see the two of you are doing well. What exactly is it that you’re doing here?”

“Security guard!” Harry said, puffing out his chest with pride. “Bank hired me and Rascal a few months back to patrol the place. Seems people were constantly breaking into the building, trashing it, you know. We run ‘em off. It’s a good job. Decent pay.”

“So, you’re not living on the streets anymore?”

“Nope. Rascal and I got a little flat. It’s not much, but it keeps the rain off and it’s got both air conditioning and heating.”

“That’s great,” he said. He gathered himself. “Have you seen Cindy?”

“Not for a few months. I used to see her dropping stuff off at the shelter every once in a while. Been meaning to let her know about my new habitation, but just haven’t gotten around to it. If you could tell her, I’d appreciate it.”

Mark shook his head. “No, I mean, tonight.”

“Tonight? What would she be doing around here?”

“She’s been kidnapped. A man and a woman dressed like Feds grabbed her and we think they brought her to this area in a black van.”

“Who would do something like that?” Harry said, his face flushing with anger.

“Bad people. Have you seen anything?”

“No, my building’s locked up tight. Wait, you said a black van?”

“Yes.”

“I saw one just as we were getting here today. It was heading that way,” Harry said, pointing down the street. “I didn’t see where it went, though. You need any help looking?”

“No, we’ve got this. But keep your eyes out. You got a phone?”

“Sure. Company gave it to me,” Harry said.

Mark pulled a card out of his pocket. “Here’s my number, call if you see anything,” Mark said.

“Will do. And you get her back safe. She’s a nice lady.”

“We’ll try, Harry.”

Mark turned and headed back to the car.

“The direction he pointed leads to the old bakery,” Daniels said. “That’s the only empty building down that way.

“At least that narrows it down slightly.”

They drove without headlights on and parked a hundred yards from the building in question. “Okay, everyone ready?” Mark asked. “We’re going in fast and quiet. Remember, be sure of your targets. We don’t want to risk hitting Cindy.”

Both Liam and Daniels nodded.

Roy was terrified. Jeremiah could smell the stench of fear all over him. But he had given him the descriptions he was looking for of the man and woman who took Cindy.

Still, he held him, pinned to the wall, his hand around his throat. He knew just how much to squeeze, just how much pressure to apply to cause panic but no bruising. It was a delicate balance, and the amount of effort it was taking him to restrain himself was herculean.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” he spat at him.

“This, this is assault,” Roy said. The man was too stupid to keep his mouth shut and pray for deliverance. In another time, in another place, it would have cost him his life.

“Technically, it’s battery. If you’re going to accuse someone of something, get your facts straight first,” Jeremiah hissed. He let go of Roy’s throat and took a step back. “Like Cindy, by your silence, your lack of action, you as much as accused her of being a criminal when nothing could be farther from the truth.”

“How was I supposed to know those people weren’t F.B.I.?”

“You could have checked their identification. As her boss you could have, should have demanded more of an explanation. You should have at the very least been suspicious that no one was questioning you or your staff about her recent activities.”

“I’ll be pressing charges against you,” he blustered.

“Not if you’re smart, you won’t. After all, it’s just your word against mine and I was very careful not to leave a mark on you. Besides, you’re going to be too busy defending yourself.”

“Against what?” the man asked, his chin quivering slightly.

“Oh, you have a lot to answer for, and trust me, I’ll make sure that they prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law.”

“I’ve done nothing illegal! There’s nothing they could charge me with,” Roy protested.

“How about accessory after the fact for failure to report a kidnapping? Or possibly obstruction of justice for not providing police officers with descriptions of the kidnappers? I mean, after all, it’s been how long since you learned that it absolutely was a kidnapping and you haven’t called the police to tell them what you know, or even gone down to the church where they’re at right now desperately searching for evidence?” Jeremiah shook his head. “What makes me sick is that you call yourself a pastor. You should have looked out for your flock, you should have been the first to Cindy’s defense as her boss and her spiritual leader. And you should be down there right now doing everything in your power to help her. Your secretary has been kidnapped and yet you do nothing. You’re not just a bad person. You’re a bad pastor.”

Jeremiah turned and stalked out the door. He dearly wanted to snap the man’s neck instead, but the scum wasn’t worth it.

He got back into Cindy’s car and drove off. The descriptions Roy had given meant nothing to him. Hopefully, Mark would recognize them.

He dialed the detective who answered in hushed tones.

“I have a description of the kidnappers.”

“We think we found where they’re holding her. I’ll call you back when I know more.”

Jeremiah hoped Mark was right and that in a few minutes he’d be talking to Cindy himself. On the off chance that wasn’t the case, he had a couple more leads he could follow.

He fished a card out his pocket, dialed the number on it, and a moment later a man’s voice with a thick German accent answered.

Cindy felt like she’d been staring at the crinkled picture of Heinrich in his car outside her house for an hour. Her eyes were beginning to hurt and she forced herself to close them for a minute. The F.B.I. agents hadn’t come back yet which made her suspicious.

Actually, the more she thought about it, the more suspicious she became of everything. She had no idea how the agency actually functioned, but she would have thought they would have allowed her a phone call, let her contact an attorney, or even read her her rights. Then again, maybe it was only police that had to make those concessions. She really didn’t know.

She got up and inspected the room. There was no one way mirror or anything like that so she would think there had to be some kind of surveillance camera documenting what was happening inside the room. She looked around for one, but couldn’t find it. That didn’t mean there wasn’t one, but it was one more thing that just seemed off somehow.

She wondered what she would find if she was able to walk out the door. She had regained consciousness in this room so she hadn’t even seen the building or anyone else but the two agents and the man who had interrupted them. She could be in a federal office building or in some warehouse somewhere for all she knew.

Maybe it was because the whole experience was causing her to have flashbacks to being kidnapped, but she was starting to seriously wonder if the people who had her really were agents. She struggled to remember what the badge Davies had flashed at her looked like. She remembered seeing it for just a moment and it had been just a badge, no identification card or anything.

She sat down and glanced again at the photo. It was proof that he had been watching her, not that they had been meeting or interacting. If the F.B.I. had really been watching Heinrich for weeks as they claimed wouldn’t they have made their presence known much sooner, like as soon as he turned up dead? Or they should have at least reached out to local law enforcement which would have been Mark since he was the lead detective on the case.

When they discovered the piece of the Amber Room they should have been right there to confiscate it. If they’d really been doing this much surveillance they couldn’t have helped but notice that officers spent a huge chunk of time removing pieces of it from the house.

Whoever they were they clearly had been following Heinrich, and he had clearly been following her. They couldn’t be from the bureau, though. They were willing to pretend they were, though, to find out what she might know. And the fact that they thought she knew anything told her that in some ways she knew more than they did.

One thing was clear. Regardless of who these people really were, she needed a chance to escape or at least reach a phone so she could tell Mark what was going on. She didn’t know how long she had been there, but if someone at the church had heard her shouting and actually called him, he should have already been talking to the F.B.I.. In fact, the fact that she was still here without having heard from him in some way, even having him be ushered into the room to tell her there was nothing he could do for her, felt like more proof that whoever these people were they weren’t government.