The Wrong Side of Dead (17 page)

“That’s what I was thinking. And with him under wraps for forty-eight hours with the cops, I thought we could check it out. I dug up the address for the facility.”

“The address is one thing, but unless you’ve got a unit number…”

“You’re gonna have to trust me on this one, but I’ve got his number. I just can’t tell you how I got it. So if you can spare a few hours off geezer patrol to break and enter, you can meet me.” Alexa gave her the address. “And gloves are the new black. Bring ’em if you’ve got ’em.”

“No problem. I’m on my way,” she said, indulging in a smile as she ended the call and hit the ignition. “Harper…until tomorrow, my fine friend.”

Luís Dante remembered one important thing about Seth Harper from the bail hearing—he had an old man who meant something to him—Detective Max Jenkins—someone he might risk coming to see at the Golden Palms Villa Nursing Home. Checking out the nursing home would be worth a shot since he’d come up empty on Harper’s background. And being a private investigator, he knew how to research the kid’s visiting routine, if he had one. Earlier, Luís had called the nursing home to ask about Harper’s father over the phone, getting his room number on the pretense of sending flowers, which he did. The cheapest batch of carnations he could find. The administrative staff had been very accommodating, especially when it came to the kid’s visiting pattern.

Not taking anything for granted, Luís also had done his homework on the Millstone case by searching newspaper archives and making copies to read later. His client might appreciate his initiative if he found something worthwhile in the old news articles.

Now all that remained to track Seth Harper was setting up a vigil both day and night outside the nursing home. Since the kid was more savvy than he’d first thought, he’d have to play it smart if and when he got a second shot at him.

But near dusk, Luís spotted an ugly blue van when he first staked out the facility after cruising side streets looking for a good surveillance spot. From a distance, he’d taken a few discreet photos as he sat in his car. A woman sitting alone had caught his eye, but when she stayed parked, it made him wonder enough to ask for help from an old buddy.

“Yo, Frankie. How’s it going?” He chatted up his cop friend, a guy he’d known since high school, and caught up on family and sports until he got down to business. “Can I get you to run me a tag,
pendejo
?”

“Sure, dickweed. Shoot.”

He gave his friend the tag number for the blue van. After a few minutes, his old pal Frankie came back with the make and model of the vehicle.

“It’s registered to Seth Harper at Pinnacle Real Estate Corporation. You need the address?”

“Yeah, give it to me.” After he took down the information, he asked, “You sure the van isn’t registered to some chick? Maybe it’s a company vehicle, but if that’s so, business must not be good. It’s a piece of crap, bro.”

“Hey, you asked for the registration, I gave it. You need anything else?”

“
Nada
. That’ll do it.” And with a grin, he added, “Give a kiss to that beautiful wife of yours for me. Use some tongue. She likes that.”

“And if you had a woman, I’d have more to say than fuck off, Dante. Later, bro.”

After the call ended, he puzzled over why a woman would be camped out at the nursing home and driving Seth Harper’s van. Luís kept watch at the location through the evening, looking for the kid and maintaining surveillance on the blue van. The longer the woman stayed, the more she fueled his curiosity.

“What are you up to,
chica
?” he muttered, snapping a few night shots to give a time reference.

Now he had more to say to his client than merely reporting the van color. And he had a feeling he’d be coming into bonus money if he worked it right. The man answered on the second ring and wasn’t pleased to hear about the added wrinkle.

“A blue van?” the man asked.

“Yeah, she’s still here,” Luís said. “But vehicle registration is under Seth Harper. And there’s more.”

He told his client about Harper’s connection to the old Danny Ray Millstone case, even reading some of the news articles over the phone. The man sounded pleased by what he’d found.

“So what do you want me to do?” he asked.

“She may lead you to Harper. Use your judgment, but your priority is the same. Find him. And call me when you know where he is.”

The man ended the call, leaving it up to him to decide what to do where the woman was concerned. So when she started her vehicle, Luís followed and gave her plenty of room. He didn’t want to lose her or give himself away. But the mystery surrounding Seth Harper deepened.

And his new case just got more interesting.

South Chicago
11:20
P.M.

Burke had a commercial storage unit near the Dan Ryan Expressway off 87th Street. Located amid a cluster of warehouses and local businesses, it was a middle-of–the-road unit. Not too high-end to make his brand of sleaze stand out as a patron, but upscale enough to have decent security measures. The units had video cameras and were gated with keycard access at the entrance and at each unit.

From experience, she knew such facilities gave after-hours and weekend access upon request. But with her twenty-four/seven five-finger skills, she didn’t have to worry about that. All she had to do was figure a way in and not get caught in the flesh or on digital.

Alexa pulled behind her van, no doubt aided by her active tracking beacon, and joined her in the front seat. She dumped a knapsack on the floorboard and slipped on a pair of black gloves and a stocking cap to cover her blond hair. But after getting a good look at Jessie’s bruised face, the woman had plenty to say.

“You look pretty rough. And I know you’re not getting enough sleep.” She turned to face her. “Tracking your friend may take time. You gotta pace yourself.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” She looked across the street, avoiding the woman’s stare.

“Suit yourself.” The blonde got down to business. “Burke doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d lease a unit like this. He must have something worth stealing to pay the extra bucks, which I’m expecting to find a little ironic by the time we’re done.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same.” She retrieved the night-vision binoculars from her glove compartment and checked out Burke’s storage facility. “Looks like we’ll have the place to ourselves. I don’t see anyone else on the property, but video poses a problem. It might limit our time.”

“Not so, grasshoppa.” Alexa rummaged through the rucksack at her feet and pulled out her gear. “I’ve got countersurveillance to take out the video. We won’t have all night, but whoever is monitoring will think it’s a power outage, at least for a while.”

“Slick.” Jess tied back her hair and tugged on her gloves. “I saw one of those on eBay.”

“And I’ve got a device to plug into every keycard lock. It’ll pop it in seconds. No climbing over the gate or crowbars.” Now the blonde was just showing off.

“Is this another convincing argument for me to join the team?” She grinned and grabbed the lock device for closer inspection. “’Cause I’m a girl who likes toys.”

“Whatever works, Beckett.” Alexa raised an eyebrow. “Let’s go.”

Luís Dante had followed the blue van from the nursing home, nearly losing the woman as he maintained a safe distance. Now, as she slowed to park on a deserted street, he doused his headlights and pulled into the shadows a few blocks down and kept watch with binoculars.

Another vehicle pulled behind the van, coming off a side street. A blond woman joined her, dressed in dark clothing and carrying a bag. Luís had no idea what the women were doing, especially at this time of night. Businesses were closed, and there were no bars on the street that he could see. And when they didn’t get out of the van right away, his suspicious nature kicked into high gear.

“¿Qué estas pensando, chica? ¿Y quién es tu amiga?”
he muttered, wondering what was on her mind and who the other woman was. He made a note of the license tag for the second car and hit the speed dial on his phone.

When his cop friend answered, he said, “Hey, Frankie, I got another tag. You got time to run it?”

“Yeah, give it to me.”

He read the tag and waited on hold while his friend pulled up the record, but when Frankie didn’t come back with a quick answer, he knew something was up. He lit a fresh cigarette, expecting to wait, but the women got out of the van and headed across the street on foot. As they disappeared around a corner, he lost sight of them at an intersection. From where he was parked, he couldn’t see where they went.

“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath, blowing smoke through his nose.

He had a decision to make. Would he stay put and wait for them to return or would he follow to find out what they were up to? Curiosity won out. With the phone to his ear, he got out of his car and flicked his cigarette to the curb. He locked his vehicle and followed the women. Using binoculars that he carried on a strap around his neck, he could watch them from a distance.

Luís crept to the intersection and peered around the corner, spying them at the secured gate to a storage complex. If they were accessing a unit, why would they park far away? And what was so important this time of night?

Something didn’t add up. Under his shirt, he felt for the Glock 19 that he kept in a holster on his belt. But when his friend came back on the line, he stopped short of pulling his weapon.

“Looks like your car is a rental,” Frankie said. “But the ID of the driver came up a dead end. The only time I’ve ever seen this is with the feds. CIA, NSA, whatever. What are you into, Luís?”

“I have no idea, but when I do, I’ll call you,” he replied, lowering his voice.

“Watch your ass,
mi amigo
.”

“Later, bro.”

Luís ended the call and tucked the cell phone in his pocket. He held up the binoculars and followed the movements of the women, knowing he’d have to get closer. He headed down the block to cross the street without being noticed and after he got to the other side, he pulled his weapon.

Curiosity definitely had him by the throat. And he couldn’t fault his client for that.

On foot, Jess crossed the street and followed Alexa, sticking close to the shadows. They didn’t want to drive onto the property using her van or the rental car and take the chance a bystander might remember the vehicle. As they got closer to the storage complex, her companion pulled gear from her knapsack and got to work, employing the devices she’d brought with her.

“I’ve taken out the video cams.” Alexa stashed her countersurveillance gear and retrieved the keycard equipment, a simple-looking black-box device with electronic leads. “Once we get inside, we’ll need to move. We won’t have much time.”

Alexa attached the gear to the numbered keycard pad located on a brick pillar at the main drive-through entrance. When the black box flashed a green light, she opened the secured gate in one slick move, operating with practiced efficiency. The metal electronic gate slid to one side, rattling a pulley chain as it moved. It would stay open for a while, but sensors would allow it to close behind them.

“Look for unit number 168,” the blonde said.

The rows were well numbered, and it didn’t take long to find Jason Burke’s unit. It was large enough to have a door as well as a small loading bay. The larger door looked like a residential garage with either remote-control access or a manual locking lever. They’d have no way of knowing until they got inside. To maintain their privacy, Alexa went to work on the smaller door’s keycard lock.

In seconds, they were inside. Nothing but pitch black.

With the door to Jason Burke’s storage unit closed behind them, it might have been tempting to flip on the overhead light for better visibility. But Jess reached into her pocket and retrieved her flashlight, pleased to see Alexa had instinctively done the same. By using flashlights, they wouldn’t risk having the brighter overhead lighting shine under the bottom of the storage doors, a dead giveaway they were inside.

Jess raised her hand and cast her beam into the darkness. She heard Alexa move and saw her flashlight cut through inky black. With her body silhouetted in pale light, Jess could track her movements in the dark. Their flashlight beams landed on boxes and reflected off glass and chrome. It didn’t take long to assess what they’d found. Large cardboard boxes were stacked amidst furniture pieces and electronic equipment.

“This could be his personal property,” Jess began, speaking in a hushed tone. “But since when does he need this many big-screen TVs?”

She didn’t expect an answer. According to what Alexa had learned about Jason Burke, he was a construction worker by trade, at least on paper. If he operated another legitimate business on the side, as sole owner or a partner, he wasn’t reporting it to the IRS.

“I’d bet money Burke’s got a stash of stolen goods here, but we’re going to need proof.” Alexa wedged herself behind a TV monitor and directed her light to the back of the console for a better look. She took out a pen and paper and jotted something down. “I’m taking serial numbers. I’ll cross-reference them to police reports…see what turns up.”

“If Burke is a middleman for stolen property, you think he’d kill to protect his little enterprise?” Jess asked. “I mean, I’ve seen people kill for less, but he’s not exactly rolling in high-end merchandise or dealing in volume?”

“We still don’t have all the pieces to this puzzle, but maybe knowing more about his inventory will help.” Alexa took down more serial numbers. After a few minutes, she hoisted the knapsack over her back, and said, “You seen enough?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good theory about what’s going on here,” she whispered. “Let’s clear out.”

Standing near the exit, they both turned off their flashlights before opening the door. Once again they were in total darkness. Alexa cracked open the door to peer out. When she did, a sliver of light filtered into the unit. Without a word, she nodded, and they both stepped into the night air. They wouldn’t be in the clear until they got off the premises. She kept her eyes alert for any sign of movement.

But when Alexa held up her hand and stopped, Jess did too. She had faith in the woman’s instincts.

“Saw something. I think we’re being watched,” the blonde whispered, slinging her knapsack over her shoulder and pulling her weapon. “The gate’s sensors should let you out without a keycard. And I’ll reset the video cams when I can. Meet you back at the van. Be careful.”

Jess gripped her Colt Python, keeping it at her side. When she turned to see where Alexa had gone, the woman was nowhere in sight, and she was alone. Normally, she would have stayed in the shadows, covering her own backside, but there was another way to play this.

Divide and conquer. If someone lurked in the dark, she would either divert attention while her new ally circled behind, or she’d make herself a sitting duck. Trust had never come easy. How much faith did she have in Alexa?

Jess winced. “Time to find out,” she whispered.

Luís had seen enough to know the two women had broken into the storage complex using high-tech gear. But while he’d been on the move to get closer, they must have ducked into one of the units. And he couldn’t be sure which one.

He’d lost them.

Why they had chosen to break in while on foot had baffled him. If they intended to make a haul, why not load up the van? With a firm grip on his gun, he moved through the shadows and peered down each storage row, looking for the women. All he could do now was hang outside the fence and wait.

But on his second pass along the perimeter, he got caught.

Instinct had cautioned him to stop—too little, too late. He ducked behind a pillar and crouched low. The women had appeared out of nowhere. They emerged from the shadows as he crossed a section of fence, his body silhouetted by a streetlamp.

He wasn’t sure what they might have seen, but he couldn’t take any chances. He stayed low and moved back the way he had come, hoping to make it to his car. But when he gaped over his shoulder, he spotted only one of the women—the one who drove the van. They had split up.

His gut reflex told him that meant trouble.

“Shit,” he muttered. Turning a corner, he jogged down an alley, taking the long way back to his car. His bad luck might have cost him the advantage of being the anonymous watcher. And if he didn’t move quickly, trailing the woman in the van wouldn’t be an option either.

Alexa had seen movement from the corner of her eye and reacted. After leaving Jessie, she’d scaled the wrought-iron fence and dropped to the sidewalk on the other side. Listening to the sounds of the night, she crouched in the dark and waited. Her eyes peered through the murky black, looking for any sign of movement.

When she sensed it was time, she crossed the street and ducked into an alley. She hunkered near a wall and listened. In the narrow, bricked passageway, sound reverberated off the walls and carried in the night. She closed her eyes to focus on every noise. When she’d slowed her heart and listened with her whole being, she finally heard the crunch of gravel underfoot and the steady footfalls of someone running.

And like a predator, she followed.

Still panting, Luís crouched behind a fence of corrugated metal and peered through slats. He shifted his gaze to split his attention between his vehicle, parked close by, and the woman who sat in the van down the road. After he’d made it back, he fought the urge to unlock his car and jump inside, waiting for the unaccounted-for female to show at the van.

But something had stopped him. He sensed a presence more than he saw or heard one.

Growing up streetwise on the streets of Chicago had honed his skills, and he knew when to lay low. He’d cut a wide swath back to his car, feeling his way through a maze of alleyways, unsure where he was going.

But now something didn’t feel right. And it didn’t take long for him to understand why.

One of the women emerged from the shadows a half block down. He slowed his breaths, trying not to give himself away. It looked as if she’d been waiting for him to make a mistake, thinking he was home free. There were other cars parked on the street. She had no way of knowing he was hiding nearby or that the dark blue Chevy Impala was his. All he had to do was be patient and wait her out.

But now she moved toward the spot where he hid. She didn’t make a sound as she crept closer. And under the bluish haze of moonlight, he caught the glint of her gun and froze.
¡Ay, Dios mío!
Would he have to defend himself…and could he shoot a woman to do it? Resisting the impulse to move, he took a deep breath and gripped his weapon as sweat trickled down his spine. What had he gotten himself into?

Earning bonus money meant nothing if he wasn’t alive to spend it.