Sanders 01 - Silent Run (29 page)

“Mr. Cross won't be helping anyone. He died seven months ago,” Joe said.

Dylan let out a breath, shocked by the news. “What happened?"

“He interrupted a robbery in progress at his home and was killed."

Seven months ago. Just when Sarah disappeared
.

“Do you know the exact date?” Dylan asked.

“It was August third."

And Sarah had disappeared on August fourth. Had Xander's death sparked her run?

“Did the police catch who did it?"

“Not to my knowledge. I'm sorry, but I have to go. Is there anything else you need?"

“Did Mr. Cross leave behind any family?"

“He had an ex-wife, but I haven't seen her since the funeral."

“Do you know her name -- where I might be able to contact her?"

Joe hesitated. “Well, her name is Adele Kramer -- I don't have her phone number."

“Thanks for your help.” Dylan ended the call, his mind reeling from what he'd just learned. Was Xander's death connected to Sarah's disappearance? Did the robbery at Xander Cross's home have something to do with Sarah? It seemed more than likely. Unfortunately, the fact that Xander was now dead did not help him find out who was chasing Sarah.

He looked up as Catherine came back into the house. Her cheeks were flushed from her run, her eyes bright and curious. “You found out something, but it's not good news, is it?"

“Xander Cross was killed seven months ago, the day before Sarah disappeared from an apartment building about three miles away from where he worked."

“Andy is dead?” Catherine murmured, her eyes turning sad. “That's tragic. He was so young -- my age. I can't believe it."

“I'm sorry."

“How was he killed?"

“He interrupted a robbery at his home. Apparently he left behind an ex-wife by the name of Adele Kramer."

“Adele Kramer?” she echoed in surprise. “I know Adele Kramer. She was married to Andy?"

“Don't tell me Adele was another foster kid."

“No, but Adele went to high school with us. She was Andy's high school girlfriend the year we all lived together. She was a nice girl from a good family who risked her cheerleader reputation to date the oddball geek. I always liked her. Jessica did, too."

“So she knew Jessica,” Dylan said thoughtfully. “That's good. That gives Jessica -- or Sarah -- a friend in San Francisco, a friend who could have helped her disappear. Maybe even a friend who knows where Caitlyn is.” He started up his computer again. “Time for another search."

“You don't have to do that,” Catherine said. “I know how to find Adele."

“How? You didn't know how to find Andy or Xander or whatever his name was."

“Well, I know how to find Adele. She's an art lover. She works in a museum in San Francisco, and she writes a column for an art magazine. I had no idea she'd married Andy. She certainly never used his last name or talked about him in her column. I thought of writing her a few times, but I didn't.” Catherine grabbed a magazine off the bookshelf. “I think her e-mail is listed at the end of her article. Yes, here it is."

Dylan pushed the computer in Catherine's direction. “You write her. Tell her you need to find Jessica, and you think Andy might have spoken to her before she disappeared. Ask her if she knows anything about Jessica or Sarah or the baby, Caitlyn."

Catherine typed slowly and deliberately. When she was finished, she hit the send key.

Dylan hoped it wouldn't take long for Adele to reply, but it was Saturday. She might not check her e-mail until Monday. And that could be too late. He picked up the phone and called Information, but there was no listing for her. They would have to wait. But which was more important, keeping the computer connection open or hitting the road to LA?

He could also call his friends at the San Francisco Police Department. They might be able to tell him more about Xander's death. He knew Sarah's departure was connected to it. He was getting closer to finding out exactly what had happened to make her run.

The computer beeped as an e-mail was received. He clicked the button, excited to see a quick reply from Adele Kramer. The message was short.
If you're really Catherine, then why does your e-mail say Dylan Sanders
?

Dylan typed in,
Because I'm using his computer. But it's really me. I remember you from high school. You were Andy's girlfriend.
He paused, glancing over at Catherine. “What else can I tell her to make her believe me?"

“Tell her that I still remember the ugly orange corsage Andy gave her for the prom."

Dylan did as Catherine suggested and hit send. They sat in silence, waiting for a reply. It came in less than a minute.

Give me your phone number. I'll call you
."

Catherine recited her phone number for him as he typed. He let out a breath when the message was sent. He hoped Adele would call. She was being very careful, and why not? Her ex-husband had been killed. She was smart to be cautious.

Within minutes the phone rang. Catherine drew in a breath and then picked it up. “Hello?” She held the receiver away from her ear so Dylan could hear.

“Catherine -- this is Adele,” she said in a brisk, no-nonsense voice.

“Thanks for calling me,” Catherine said. “I just recently learned about Andy's death. I'm so sorry."

“It was terrible. I was always afraid something like that would happen to him. I warned him that he was playing with danger, but that's the way he liked to live, you know. I certainly couldn't change him.” Her voice was edged with bitterness. “I don't know why I thought I could."

“I remember how stubborn he was,” Catherine murmured.

“Yes. Now, you said something about Jessica in your e-mail?"

“I also recently learned that Jessica was living in San Francisco near Andy, and... well, she disappeared the day after he died. I'm trying to find her. I wonder if you know where she is now."

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “I know this much, Catherine: Jessica was in a lot of trouble. She asked Andy to make her some fake IDs for her and her baby. Two days later Andy was dead."

“I'm so sorry, Adele."

“Me, too. I don't know what happened to Jessica after that. I always liked her, but not as much as Andy did. He had a soft spot for her. I know he helped her over the years, not just a few months ago. Several years ago she actually stayed with us for a couple of nights. She was using a different name then -- Sarah, I think it was. She said she'd gotten into some bad trouble, and she couldn't trust anyone. She looked horrible at the time, terrified of her own shadow. I think Andy helped set her up with a job, and then I didn't see her again. To be honest, Andy and I were fighting, and I didn't really care what he was doing. I just wanted to get on with my life. I wasted too many years trying to turn him into a law-abiding citizen. I couldn't do it anymore.” Her voice caught. “But I miss him. I still miss him."

“You loved him. I loved him, too."

“Well, life goes on. That's what Andy always used to tell me when I had a problem. Is that all you wanted?"

“Can you think of anyone else Jessica might have run to after Andy died -- if she still needed help?” Catherine asked.

“I don't know what was up with the man she had the baby with. Aside from him, I would have thought you, maybe. She talked about you sometimes, but she said she was afraid to bring trouble in her wake. I guess she thought Andy with his superhero talents could fend off any danger. But she was wrong. He wasn't a superhero; he was just a nut.” Adele paused and then added, “Oh, wait -- Andy kept in touch sometimes with Teresa. She became a female boxer, even opened her own gym somewhere. Andy was quite impressed. I remember that he told her he was going to draw a female superhero character after her."

“Do you know where the gym is?"

“I can't remember. I think it was somewhere in LA. I have to go, Catherine. I don't mean to be rude, but I don't really want to get involved in anything having to do with Jessica or any of the rest of you."

“I understand,” Catherine said. “Thanks for calling me back.” Catherine hung up the phone and let out a sigh. “I guess Teresa is our next best bet."

“Can't be too many female boxers with the name Teresa,” Dylan said, excited about the new lead. But he could see by the expression on Catherine's face that she wasn't feeling nearly so good. “Are you all right?” Her cheeks were pale and her eyes were bleak.

“I'm sad for Andy and worried about Jessica. And I have to admit it kind of stung to have Adele tell me not to call her again, to stay out of her life. I don't know why it bothers me, though. It's not the first time I've heard those words.” She forced a false smile. “Adele called Jessica Sarah, so I guess that's her name now. They're the same person."

“Are you ready to go to LA?"

“You don't even stop to take a breath, do you? I'm still reeling from finding out Andy is dead."

“I know, Catherine, and I'm sorry if I'm rushing you, but we need to find Sarah before what happened to Andy happens to her.”

Sarah awoke disoriented and alone. She sat up abruptly, then blew out a breath of relief when she saw Jake tapping the computer keys, a stream of sunlight coming through the window.

“I made coffee,” he said, without looking up from what he was doing.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. Since Jake had obviously taken a shower and changed his clothes, she decided to do the same. She stumbled out of bed, grabbed her duffel bag, and headed toward the bathroom. She had a bad case of morning breath, and she suspected her hair looked like a family of birds had made a nest in it. She couldn't remember her dreams. Maybe Jake's presence had chased the nightmares away.

The hot water from the shower felt good on her head and shoulders, and she stayed under the spray for long, luxurious minutes, almost dreading the moment when she would have to confront another day of uncertainty. But as Caitlyn's sweet face appeared in her mind, Sarah knew there was a very good reason for getting on with things. She did not want to spend another night without her daughter back in her arms.

Twenty minutes later she was dressed and ready to get down to business. She moved over to the table, where Jake seemed absorbed by whatever he was reading on the screen.

“What's up?” she asked.

“I found some information on Shane Hollis."

“Who is he?” Sarah asked, sitting down next to Jake.

There was new energy in his voice this morning, as well as an eager light in his eyes. Whatever he'd discovered had certainly gotten him charged up.

“He's a Harvard graduate, for one."

“No,” she said in disbelief. “The guy in the beanie who tried to kill me several times went to Harvard?"

“On scholarship. He was part of a grade-school class sponsored by a wealthy businessman who promised to put them all through college at his alma mater."

“Are you sure you're talking about the right Shane Hollis?"

“Listen to this and then tell me what you think.” Jake flipped to a new screen and started to read. “ ‘A group of students thought to belong to one of Harvard's most secret societies, the Eye of the Tiger, were questioned today regarding the recent suicide of one of their members, Daniel Haggarty, under suspicion that there was some type of hazing involved. Shane Hollis and Timothy Fontaine, the grandson of Harold Fontaine, the state senator from Connecticut, were the first to discover their friend's body. After lengthy questioning and a review of Daniel Haggarty's psychological records, no charges were filed in the case."

“Eye of the Tiger,” she repeated, the name echoing through her head.

“Exactly. That would explain the tiger tattoo you saw in your dream."

Sarah pushed back her chair and stood up, feeling unsettled, but she didn't know why. “What else?” she asked.

Jake flipped to another screen. “Once I found the tiger connection, I started researching the group. There were at least five to six guys involved, as far as I can tell. All, with the exception of Shane Hollis, were rich, well-connected, privileged young men who, according to other students, were arrogant, cocky, and felt they were better than everyone else. Their activities were shrouded in secrecy, most involving college-type pranks, until Haggarty's suicide."

“Okay, but what's the connection between Shane Hollis and me?” Sarah asked.

“That's what we have to figure out. But here's at least a small link: After college, two of the men opened an art gallery in Chicago."

“Go on."

“The gallery quickly became a huge success. Apparently the men's Harvard connections were happy to invest in the art that they sold. They were also good-looking guys, playboys, who had no trouble finding beautiful women to come to their parties. They quickly became the toast of the town."

Sarah's pulse began to speed up as something teased at the back of her brain. “What was the name of the gallery?"

“White Tiger. They were apparently hooked on the tiger theme. What gets even more interesting is that it turns out the gallery was a front for black-market art and drug smuggling. One of the boys was half Russian and apparently had some contacts back in Russia who had gotten their hands on some stolen art secreted away since World War Two. But they weren't satisfied with just selling priceless paintings on the black market. They also got involved with smuggling heroin within the frames. The DEA got wind of the deals, and two of our Harvard boys went to prison."

Sarah swallowed hard, a thick knot growing in her throat. She wanted to tell Jake to stop talking. He was going too fast. It was too much. And yet it wasn't enough. There were a million questions hovering at the back of her mind, but she couldn't get the words out.

“That was eight years ago,” Jake added, looking her in the eye. “The same time you disappeared from Chicago. I'm guessing you were connected in some way to what happened at the gallery.” He paused. “And I found a photo taken of the three of them. It's kind of grainy, but I think you'll be able to recognize Shane.” He turned the laptop computer screen so that it was facing her.