CHAPTER 24
Ric called as Sean and Jasper were rolling up to the courthouse.
“The warrant came through. Where are you guys?”
“We just pulled up,” Sean told Ric. “Anyone heard from Callie?”
“No, but we’re ready to move.”
“Okay, we’ll meet you in the lobby.”
Sean got out of the car as a call from Callie came in. Last time he’d talked to her, she’d been headed to the Delphi Center.
“Hey, Callie, what’s the word?”
“I talked to Mia’s assistant in the DNA lab. The profile from the drinking glass matches the profile from the victim’s fingernails.”
Sean stopped on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse. The Honorable Eric J. Mahoney had killed Samantha Bonner. And they had proof because Brooke had tailed the man yesterday and collected his DNA.
All of Sean’s suspicions were confirmed, but the relief he’d expected didn’t come. Instead he felt a heavy ball of dread in the pit of his stomach.
“Sean?”
“I’m here.”
“We’ve got the son of a bitch! Why aren’t you excited?”
“I’ll be excited when he’s in custody.” Sean nodded at Jasper and they crossed the street. “We’re at the courthouse now with the warrant. We’ve got another team at his house, waiting for the green light. Why don’t you head over there and help with the search of the residence?”
“Okay, see you back at the station.”
They entered the lobby, flashed their badges at the guard, and walked around the metal detector. Ric and Christine came in through the back entrance and met them at the elevator.
“Everything in order with the warrant?” Sean asked.
“I skimmed through,” Ric said. “Looks like she’s after everything but the kitchen sink. Computers, cellular devices, clothing, shoes.”
“The knife sheath in there?” Jasper asked.
“Yep.”
The elevator emptied and everyone stepped on. Sean jabbed the button for level two—luckily no civilians were riding up with them.
“Same as we talked about?” Ric asked.
“That’s right. I’ll handle the search and the inventory,” Sean said. “You take the judge aside and try to convince him to come in for an interview.”
“No judge is going to give an interview without a lawyer present,” Christine said.
“You’d be surprised,” Ric told her. “Some people think they’re smarter than everyone. This judge might just waive his right to counsel.”
“I’m not counting on it,” Sean said, “but I am counting on you to keep him under control while we paw through his office.”
“This should be fun,” Jasper said as the doors dinged open.
They stepped off and turned onto a long corridor, and Sean imagined fifteen-year-old Hannah Lipsky walking this same route late at night in the presence of a cop. Courtrooms lined the left side of the hallway. They passed Judge Mahoney’s courtroom, which was empty at the moment, and reached a glass door for a private office.
“Ready?” Sean asked.
Everyone nodded.
Sean strode into the waiting room and cut straight to the reception desk.
“Detective Sean Byrne, SMPD, for Judge Mahoney.”
The receptionist looked alarmed by the sudden crowd of people, two of whom were uniformed officers.
“Uh . . . I’m sorry. You’re who?”
“Where is the judge, ma’am?”
“The judge . . .” She glanced around, flustered. “He’s out right now. Would you care to—”
“We have a search warrant for his office.” Sean slapped the paperwork on the counter as Ric walked past the reception desk.
“Sir? Sir?” The woman jumped to her feet. “You can’t just go back there! He can’t go back there!” She turned to Sean with a frantic look. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Where is the judge?”
“He left. After his hearing ended.”
Sean’s gut clenched. “When did he leave?”
“Uh, I think . . . it was about eleven?”
Ric returned to the waiting room. His gaze locked on Sean’s and he shook his head. No judge.
What the fuck? Sean turned to Christine. “I thought you had eyes on him this morning?”
“We did. We do.” Now Christine looked flustered. “His Escalade is parked right down there in the parking lot.”
Sean jerked his head at Jasper. “Get started on the office.”
“Down the hall and to the right,” Ric told him.
“Where’s the judge’s assistant?” Sean demanded.
“That’s me.”
“What is your name, ma’am?”
“Connie Hudson.” She was still standing, and she reached for the phone beside her computer.
Sean leaned over the counter and stopped her. “Not so fast. Where, exactly, did the judge go?”
Her cheeks flushed crimson. “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. He went into his office and hung up his robe and left.”
“Where’s his bailiff?” Ric asked.
“He left, too. He said he felt sick and needed to go home.”
Ric looked at Sean.
“When was this?” Sean asked.
“About, I don’t know, an hour ago? Not long after the judge.”
Ric pulled out his cell phone. “Tell us his name.”
• • •
Brooke swung onto Cameron’s street, searching for any sign of the boy or his dog. She was driving too fast and nearly hit a silver Audi backing out of a driveway as she pulled up to Cameron’s house and parked.
Should she try Cameron’s or the neighbor’s house first? Her question was answered when the neighbor’s front door opened and Fenway darted out, straining against the leash held by an elderly woman. The dog was yapping wildly and trying to drag the woman down the steps.
“Mrs. Nance?” Brooke crossed the lawn, and Fenway turned his attention to Brooke, barking and lunging.
“Fenway, no! Stop that!”
Brooke stayed out of biting range. “Mrs. Nance, I’m a friend of Kaitlyn’s and I’m trying to locate Cameron. Has he been by here?”
“Kaitlyn called me,” she said, looking confused. “What is this all about?”
A long horn blast pulled Brooke’s attention down the street where a minivan narrowly missed the speeding Audi as it blew through a stop sign.
Brooke stared after the silver car. Suddenly her blood turned cold.
“I haven’t seen Cameron. Isn’t he in school?”
Brooke looked at Mrs. Nance. “I . . . um, excuse me.”
Brooke ran back to her car and jumped behind the wheel. She grabbed her phone to call Sean. Putting it on speaker, she tossed it into the passenger seat, then threw her car into gear and sped away.
“Come on, come on. Pick up,” she muttered, barely slowing at the stop sign.
“I can’t talk right now,” Sean said. “I’ll call you back.”
“Wait. Where is Mahoney?”
Silence on the other end.
“Sean? Do you have eyes on him?”
“No. Why? Where are you?”
“I thought he was under surveillance!”
“He gave us the slip. Brooke, where are you? What’s wrong?”
She gunned the gas and tried to catch up to the silver Audi that was quickly fading from view.
“Brooke?”
“I’m at the Spences’ house. Or I was. Cameron is missing, and a silver Audi just went tearing out of here—”
“What do you mean, missing?”
“Sean, what kind of car does Mahoney drive?” She floored the pedal as the Audi hung a left at a stoplight.
“A black Escalade. You said a silver Audi? Hold on.”
She heard muffled conversation on the other end as Sean talked to someone.
“Joe Hurd drives a car like that. That’s the judge’s bailiff. You think Cameron is with him?”
“I don’t know.” She slammed on the brakes, and her car rabbited to a halt at the intersection, nearly hitting a pickup truck in front of her. Brooke smacked her steering wheel.
“Where are you, Brooke?”
“I’m at”—she glanced around—“Cherrywood Road and Market Street. Sean, you have to get someone over here. They just turned south on Market. They’re getting away!” She glanced in her rearview, then threw her car into reverse and shot backward. Shifting into drive, she maneuvered around the pickup truck, prompting a chorus of honks as she drove onto the median and hung a left in pursuit of the Audi.
“We’re sending patrol units now. Did you actually see Cameron in the car?”
“No. I haven’t seen him at all.” She swerved around cars, trying to catch sight of the Audi, but she couldn’t spot it. “I don’t even see the car anymore. Sean, what if they have Cameron?”
In a flash of silver the Audi came into view. Brooke punched the gas, barely making the next traffic light as it turned red.
“Brooke, are you listening? We have units en route. You need to pull over.”
“Are you crazy? They’ll get away!”
“Brooke, pull over. You’re going to get hurt—”
“I’m not letting them out of my sight, Sean. They might have Cameron!”
More muffled voices as he talked to someone.
The Audi hung a left onto a state highway.
“They’re turning onto Highway 46 southbound. Can you tell your people?”
“Brooke—”
“I’m not pulling over, so save your breath.” She swerved around a delivery truck.
“Okay, just . . . listen. Whatever you do, you cannot let them see you. Do you understand? We think the judge and his bailiff could be in that car. We think they’re armed and dangerous. Hang way back, and do not confront them, whatever you do. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“I have to jump off, but I’ll call you back.”
Brooke tossed her phone aside and focused on driving. Her heart raced. Her hands felt slick on the steering wheel as she waited for a break in traffic and made the turn onto the highway. The Audi was far ahead now, but with a fair amount of traffic on the four-lane road, she hoped she could keep from being spotted.
Maybe she’d been spotted already. She wasn’t trained in covert vehicle pursuit. She wasn’t trained in any of this, and Sean was probably right that she should pull over and let the police handle it.
Only the unshakable certainty that they had Cameron in that car with them kept her going.
She eased into the right lane, where she’d be less conspicuous as she kept a steady pace behind the Audi. Minutes passed as they neared the outskirts of town. Where were the cops? Were they on their way? Or maybe they were already in pursuit in unmarked units. Brooke glanced around at the other vehicles on the road, but none looked like a cop, undercover or not.
She nudged her speed up as she trained her gaze on the silver sedan in the distance. It was just driving. Not erratically, not too fast. It was moving only a few miles per hour above the speed limit, as though the driver had no idea she was back here following him.
He hadn’t spotted her.
She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. It didn’t work. Brooke knew, in her heart of hearts, that Cameron had been grabbed and that he was in that vehicle. It belonged to Mahoney’s bailiff, and it had been speeding away from Cameron’s house. Now that the driver was out of Cameron’s neighborhood, he seemed to want to blend in with traffic.
Had Cam cut class and gone home to see his dog, as his mother suspected? Had he been avoiding the police interview?
Whatever had happened, Brooke had no doubt he’d crossed paths with some dangerous people.
A horrible thought jumped into Brooke’s mind and she gripped the wheel tighter.
What if Cam wasn’t with them? What if he hadn’t been kidnapped at all? Maybe whoever was in that car had already hurt him and was speeding away from the crime scene when Brooke showed up?
Brooke passed a sign for an upcoming juncture. They were nearing the interstate. The Audi slowed suddenly. Was it turning? Brooke tapped her brakes, struggling with what to do as the Audi pulled into a gas station.
She clutched the wheel. Should she follow or drive on? Were they checking for a tail?
Brooke drove past the gas station, which was busy with cars and pickups and a few long-haul rigs. She spotted the Audi as it glided up to a pump.
They were fueling up. At least, that’s what it looked like. Brooke kept the gas station in her rearview mirror as she moved through the intersection. After less than a mile, she made a U-turn and doubled back.
The Audi was still at the pump, the driver’s-side door open and a fuel hose attached to the tank. She took a deep breath and turned into the gas station. She stayed on the perimeter, edging around a large Suburban and curving around to park on the far side of the convenience store.
Brooke got out and scanned the area and quickly realized she had no idea what Joe Hurd looked like. She’d been in Mahoney’s courtroom, but she couldn’t remember his bailiff. She darted a glance inside the store, but she didn’t see Mahoney among the customers in line at the register.
Brooke stopped and peered around the corner of the building at the gas pumps. Still no driver inside the Audi. A man sat in the front passenger seat talking on the phone. Was it Mahoney? He wore a baseball cap, and Brooke couldn’t be sure.
“ ’Scuse me.” A tall, heavyset man stepped past her, carrying a bag of ice on his shoulder.
On impulse, Brooke stayed at the man’s side, casually walking with him across the lot toward a pickup truck with oversize tires. He gave her an odd look, and she smiled and then ducked behind a van parked at the pump beside the Audi.
Brooke crept around the van, then glanced around the side.
Baseball Cap Guy was still on the phone. Suddenly the door opened, and he got out. He wasn’t Mahoney. The man was tall and barrel-chested, and his hair was black instead of silver. The baseball cap concealed part of his face, so she couldn’t get a good look at the rest of his features.
He glanced around the parking lot, then checked his watch and ended the call. His gaze zeroed in on the Audi’s trunk.
And Brooke knew. Cameron was in there. Alive or dead, he was in that trunk.
Another furtive glance around, and the man hurried into the convenience store.
Brooke’s heart pounded crazily as she studied the car, looking for any movement in the trunk. After glancing around, she made a decision. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, then ducked low and scuttled toward the back of the Audi. Softly, she tapped on the trunk.
No response. She glanced at the store again, but no one was coming out.
She crept alongside the car and peered into the back window. Nothing in the backseat. She crept to the trunk and tapped again.
Thud.
Brooke’s heart skipped a beat. She ducked lower and tapped again, a rapid tap-tap-tap.
Another thud.
Adrenaline flooded her. He was in there! He was alive! She had to get help before—
A burst of pain blinded her.