The Wrong Side of Dead (18 page)

Alexa sensed she was being watched, but nothing gave her any indication where she should look. And time played a part in her decision to move on.

She might already be too late.

The shutdown of the surveillance video at the storage complex had run its course, and the security company responsible might have dispatched a patrol car to check the outage. She kept her eyes alert, watching for any signs of movement on the street as she retrieved the countersurveillance device from her knapsack, the one that had jammed the video signal. She was close enough to bring the video cams back online and worked the controls to get it done. When she looked up again, she gazed down the street to see the murky silhouette of Jessie in the van, waiting.

If someone had been watching them, the few cars parked nearby had the best vantage point. But something caught her eye.

By a dark Chevy Impala, the butt of a cigarette was still lit. It had burned down, leaving a long snake of ash with a spiral of smoke drifting into the still night air. Someone had lit up and changed their mind in a hurry, tossing the discarded cigarette to the ground. With a faint smile on her face, she made a note of the license tags for the cars parked along the street and headed toward Jessie.

When she got back to her rental car, she ditched her knapsack in the backseat and slipped her gun into a holster she carried at the small of her back. The streets looked quiet, with no security patrols in sight. She headed for the van and opened the passenger door to lean inside and update Jessie.

“I didn’t see anyone, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t have company.” She told her about the cigarette butt and the license tags she’d acquired from the cars parked behind them.

“The Surgeon General was right,” Jessie said without a smile. “Smoking can be hazardous to your health.” She looked tired, and Alexa could see she was hurting. Deep-rooted pain from a beating wasn’t easy to mask.

“Keep your eyes on the rearview mirror going home,” Alexa advised. “Play it safe. Whoever it is is real cagey.”

Jessie nodded, but Alexa reached across the passenger seat and grabbed her arm to make her point more clear. “Get some sleep. I got a feeling we’re both gonna need it.”

Sitting behind the wheel of the rental car, she watched the van pull from the curb and waited with her eyes on the rearview mirror to see if anyone darted for the cars parked down the street. After giving Jessie a good head start, she pulled away and hit the gas.

By tomorrow, she’d know who owned those vehicles. And she hoped one of the names would stand out as a clear winner for her undivided attention.

Late afternoon

A dark, gloomy day was taking shape, with storm clouds gathering. Even burrowed under the covers of her bed, Jess knew this, but she hadn’t arrived at this conclusion by psychic powers. She heard the rumble of distant thunder. And her room was as dark as night, even though she had a general idea what time of day it was.

“Great,” she whispered. “Just what I need.” Thunder made her edgy.

She flipped on a lamp and looked at her alarm clock. Nearly four o’clock, later than she thought. She’d have only a few hours before she’d stock up for another night of surveillance and hit the road once rush hour died.

After pulling an all-nighter between her stakeout of the nursing home and her criminal romp with Alexa, Jess had slept a few restless hours, still feeling the aftereffects of the beating. But since her mind wouldn’t turn off, she got dressed and grabbed some coffee while she checked for e-mails from her new partner in crime, Alexa. Good as her word, the woman had sent the electronic file for Beladi’s assets, an expansive list that would take time to review.

And she had sent an e-mail with another interesting follow-up to last night.

“Yeah, right. You’re gonna ‘talk’ to him?” She chuckled, reading between the lines of Alexa’s e-mail.

But why would a PI be tailing her? The face of Nadir Beladi flashed through her mind in answer to her question, sending a prickle down her spine. It had to be him. She’d have to be more careful. The last thing she needed was another psychopath finding out where she lived.

Jess downloaded the financial file on Beladi and had started the printing process when her cell phone rang. She checked out the phone display before answering and recognized the number.

“Hey, Sam. What’s up?”

“I wanted to let you know we had to kick Jason Burke loose. He lawyered up, and we didn’t get enough from him for an arrest. Wish I had better news.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Jess had been thinking about how she’d tell Sam what they had found in Burke’s storage unit. It would have been nice if the timing of her tip had been different, and Alexa could have confirmed the man was in possession of stolen goods by actual serial numbers, but with Burke a free man, things had changed.

“I just got an e-mail from Alexa. Burke had some noteworthy items on the financials she dug up.” Jess knew she’d have to be careful about how much to tell Sam.

Harper needed the cops to find another viable candidate in Mandy’s murder. And it seemed a plausible scenario that the girl could have found out about Burke’s side business and tried blackmailing him. Yet telling Sam outright about her break-in at Burke’s storage unit would not only put her friend in the middle and compromise her job, it would taint any evidence the cops might acquire as “fruit of the poisonous tree.” Anything the police found, as a result of being tipped from the break-in, would be inadmissible in court.

She’d have to find a way to guide Sam’s efforts without saying that she and Alexa had already laid eyes on what looked to be stolen goods.

“Burke had a safe-deposit box and paid for an upscale storage unit using automatic withdrawals from his bank. I figured you could get a warrant to take a peek. Maybe Mandy caught him in a side business he wasn’t reporting to the IRS, something the cops might see as motive.”

“You got an address on his storage?”

“Yeah, sure.” She gave her friend the address and unit number.

Sam was smart and would know how to work it. Jess had a feeling Burke’s enterprise would land the guy back in police custody, and he’d have plenty of explaining to do. And it wouldn’t hurt Sam’s career to look good in front of police brass.

“Anything else?” her friend asked. “Didn’t Alexa do other background checks for you?”

Jess wanted time to look over the information she’d just received. And until she did, she opted to stall Sam by blaming Alexa, a convenient dodge.

“She’s still working the other names.” Jess took a swig of coffee. “I’ll let you know. Thanks, Sammie.”

She ended the call, thinking about all the despicable men who were capable of ending Mandy’s life. But Beladi was still at the top of her hit parade. She had no doubt the man was capable of murder and more. Yet after seeing the storage unit, she wondered if Burke could kill the girl to protect his source of income. And her gut told her that the dude was mean enough to set up Harper to take the fall. He definitely had anger issues.

Jess needed concrete proof for the cops, not just suspicions. Maybe the smoker’s financials and his assets would turn up something new. She did a quick scan of the pages Alexa had sent. If she didn’t make enough headway, she’d take the pages with her to read later.

But she recognized one street address. Nadir Beladi owned Dirty Monty’s, the bar where Seth had been abducted. Now the man’s threatening words from the other night, the night Pinzolo had beat her up, rushed to the forefront of her mind.

…you came to my turf…my place of business…setting off grenades at my feet…

At the time, she thought he’d taken exception to her treading on his South Side turf, but he had literally meant his place of business, Dirty Monty’s. She still had no idea how Beladi owning the bar would play into this, but it was another piece of the puzzle. And Harper being drugged and kidnapped from the man’s property had to be something more than a coincidence.

Her thoughts turned to Seth and a twinge of guilt cinched her stomach.

Tonight was Harper’s regular time to visit his father. Would he keep his promise? If he stuck to the routine, this might be the best opportunity for her to cross his path. Would she cuff him and turn him over to the police for his own good? Jess clenched her jaw, trying to imagine crossing that line with him. There was only one answer that came to mind.

She’d figure out what to do when she saw him.

Golden Palms Villa
9:45
P.M.

In the rain, the nursing home cleaved to its shadows and looked ominous as lightning assaulted the night sky. Loud cracks of thunder made her tense. Only a few windows shed a pale glow, with most residents in bed by now. And although Jess was grateful Max Jenkins’s room was still lit, she knew they’d soon lock the front doors, and there’d be no way into the place.

She looked at her watch, holding her wrist toward the dim light from a streetlamp. Visiting hours were nearly over, and it looked as if Seth wasn’t coming.

And with the rain streaking the windows, thoughts of Payton Archer and the night he’d introduced her to his love of the rain, sent her into a morose tailspin. Before she’d met Payton, she hadn’t realized how much she craved emotional intimacy. He had accepted her as she was—with flaws and scars—and seemed to understand intuitively without her having to explain. She thought about calling him for the comfort of hearing his voice but decided against it.

“Quit being such a girl,” she muttered.

And with Harper missing and in trouble, she felt as if her life had been highjacked. Her stakeout could stretch into days and weeks. And she imagined being relegated to an interminable limbo like Bill Murray in
Groundhog Day
repeating the same day over and over. The interior of the van smelled like stale coffee and the remnants of fast food, another déjà vu trigger.

“Just take one day at a time, Beckett.”

Jess tried to clear her head of all the things she couldn’t control and focus on the here and now. She’d wait until the on-duty nurse locked the front entrance and hit the security lights before she headed home and try again tomorrow. It looked as if Harper would break his promise to his father, for good reason. Changing his routine had been prudent, but she had mixed feelings about spending another night without finding him. No news was definitely not good news—with a brutal killer in control.

She reached for her binoculars and made another pass of the facility grounds while she waited for the night nurse to make her appearance at the front door.

With visiting hours nearly over, Seth arrived by taxi and instructed the driver to leave him a few blocks away from the nursing home. Stealth was more important than staying dry. He rushed to a back entrance to get out of the rain, but the damage had been done. Drops had pelted his jacket and knapsack, drenched his hair, and seeped down his neck onto his T-shirt. With the bad weather, he’d have to rethink his departure. The staff had allowed him to stay overnight before. Maybe the head night nurse would let him do it again.

Through the kitchen, he walked up the back stairs to the second floor, avoiding the scrutiny of the staff. From the many times he’d been at the nursing home, he knew the best way in, completely under the radar of the people who took care of his father. He hadn’t intended to avoid them, but he was in no mood for idle chat.

The door to his father’s room was shut, but the light from inside seeped onto the floor. After a soft knock, he turned the knob and stepped inside.

“Papa?”

The room was empty. His father was nowhere in sight.

“What the hell?”

“He’s here. At the nursing home,” Luís said into his cell phone as he sat behind the wheel of his Chevy Impala. “Seth Harper is here, right now. What do you want me to do?”

He found it hard to contain the excitement in his voice, knowing his client would be happy to hear the good news…and perhaps be generous as well.

“You’ve already done it. Good job,” the man said. “You’ve earned your bonus. I’ll send it tomorrow as we discussed, but I’ll take it from here. Go home, Mr. Dante.”

The call ended, leaving Luís confused and more than a little intrigued by it all.

The kid hadn’t been easy to track down, but Luís had given his client much more than he’d asked for. He’d anticipated the kid’s next move and been waiting when he visited his old man, arriving only a few minutes ago on foot and coming in the back way. The client already had the nursing home address and other pertinent information, thanks to his diligence. And he’d also provided a summary of the old newspaper articles on how Harper’s father had saved all those kids from a pedophile, even reading parts of it over the phone.

He’d crossed paths with two mystery women who appeared to be looking for Seth Harper and maybe more. The one in the van was parked down the street now. This time he hadn’t had to tail her here. She’d arrived like clockwork.

And now it looked as if the woman was getting out of her vehicle and heading for the nursing facility in the rain.

What is up with her?

Curiosity had piqued his interest again. And even though his client had kicked him loose, Luís had an inclination to stick around and see how things played out—on his own time.

Seth set down his rucksack on the floor as he entered the room. This time of night, he knew his father should have been in his room. Most residents were already in bed, but the nursing staff usually let him stay up for the last hour, an accommodation for his son’s visiting routine. He turned to leave, heading for the nurses’ station, but the phone on the nightstand rang. Seth hesitated, but eventually he picked it up.