* * *
Alex Drake's connection turned out to be a slender man named Ben in the County's Department of Assessment and Taxation, and although he was frustrated at being pulled away from a darts tournament at a local bar, Brice realized very quickly why Drake put the guy on his personal payroll.
"He's a whiz at tracing property ownership," Alex assured Brice for the umpteenth time that evening. "But it seems like your uncle had someone equally talented at hiding ownership on his team." Brice nodded his head, frustrated at how long the process of detailing his uncle's properties was taking.
"Especially since his assets are now in the process of being reassigned new ownership since his death." Alex's consultant, Ben, was discussing the issue with them via video chat. "Between the dummy corporations, the non-profit shells, the foreclosures, and the family entailments, it's hard to determine just who has what."
"I'm sure you're doing the best you can," Alex assured his employee when Brice didn't answer. He was staring off into the distance with distracted eyes. "Check in with us as soon as you find anything of interest."
With a click, Alex closed the chat window and turned to face his former enemy. "We'll find her," he said.
"Your guy's already been tangling with the paperwork with two hours. That's on top of the hours it took for me to figure out that she was missing, and to get the security details in order and enlist your help. It'll be dawn soon, and we still have no idea where Janna is. And I don't know what my cousin is capable of, not anymore. She could already be dead."
"Don't say that!" Alex stood up and banged his fist against the desktop. "You can't give up hope that easily."
"I'm not giving up hope," Brice growled. "All I've ever had is hope, but I have to hold myself accountable too. My own actions have led up to this, and if she is dead, it will be my fault."
"That's bullshit." Drake's laugh was on the razor's edge of condescension. "If anything happens to Janna, the only person's fault it will be is that fucked up cousin of yours. And your fucked up uncle, he's got a large portion of blame to swallow himself. You could have played the security angle differently, I'll give you that, but--"
"Played the security angle differently," Brice mocked, throwing Alex's words back in his face in a fit of guilt-fed rage. "I practically drove her into that drunken asshole's clutches because I couldn't be honest with her. Because I didn't trust her, not all the way. Not like she deserved. And if something does happen to her--" Brice's breath caught in his throat at the thought of what might happen to her. What could have already happened.
Alex sighed as he slipped back into his chair. "All we can do is try to find her. And all that guilt and regret isn't gonna help. So get your head back into the game. Think. Where could he have taken her?"
Brice grimaced. "I don't know. I've already got security teams stationed at his apartment, his father's foreclosed house, and the damn bar where he spends most of his time, and he hasn't shown up at any of them. I'm not at all sure how many pies my uncle had his fingers in, that's why I came to you. As far as I know, she could be anywhere in the state by now."
Alex's eyes narrowed, and Brice realized his former enemy was losing his patience. He couldn't help it; he felt so helpless, so impotent, unable to do anything to help Janna. The negativity radiated off of him, as he added the kidnapping to a long line of terrible events that had plagued his life for the last half decade. The shit with Evetta. His parents' deaths. The shit with his uncle. And now this. It was hard not to think that the tunnel had no light at the end of it. Or no end at all.
Brice's head rose at the chime from Drake's laptop. Alex brought up the chat window and stared into the face of his consultant. "Tell me you've got good news for us."
"I'm not sure," Ben answered, "but I figured I'd give you a call. I still haven't untangled all of Wesley Masterson's properties, but I did come across something interesting. Not long before Masterson was sent to prison, he submitted paperwork on a piece of property outside Alsea."
Brice stood up and came around the desk to stand behind Alex's chair. He leaned in toward the screen so his face could be captured by the camera. "That property was tied up in the illegal mining business that sent him to federal prison. A staging area before moving their people and equipment into the parkland."
Brice wasn't sure what this had to do with anything. He'd looked over the property himself when his investigators had uncovered it during the trial. There was nothing there, no outbuildings, nothing. It was just a strip of land with a boat launch. Chester couldn't be hiding Janna there. It would be too obvious.
"Well, in the mortgage paperwork he submitted, I noticed that he had a co-signer, Rodchester Masterson-Bates."
"That's my cousin Chester," Brice said, his attention riveted on the small laptop screen. He didn't think his cousin had any property, none that he'd ever mentioned. Chester had never shown an interest in business, and Wesley made a point of not trusting him with the smallest investment. "How could he be listed as a co-signer? He never had anything but what my uncle gave him."
"I figured this Rodchester would have to have some kind of property himself to qualify as a co-signer, so I ran a search on him. And I got three hits."
"Tell me," Brice demanded, shouldering his way closer to the screen.
"There's a bungalow on the Southeast side of Portland, not far from the airport. Apparently, he acquired it in 2001. The previous owner was Marlayna Bates."
"His mother." Brice didn't know his cousin's deceased mother had willed him her own property and wondered why Chester had never mentioned it. "What else did you find?"
"The second one is outside Reedsport. It's a house and some acreage out near the South Coast. Former owners were Patrick and Kathleen Masterson."
"Our grandparents." The reason for Chester acquiring this property was more apparent. His grandmother had doted on his cousin and had always refused to see his faults. His spoiled maliciousness. Her final act of leaving her house to him had been her way of showing her faith in him, as always.
It was a good sized property, a wooded lot that had an overgrown trail leading down to a secluded beach. But the house had been empty for over a decade, as far as Brice knew. Chester himself would never live there. It wasn't close enough to the nightlife he craved.
Brice blinked twice, his guts churning. "You said three hits."
"Right, the last one," Ben said, shuffling some papers on his desk. "A storefront property in Bend. Former owners listed as Stephens and Sons."
"A storefront?" This had Brice stumped. What would his cousin want with a storefront property in Central Oregon? It made no sense.
"That's it," Ben said, his eyes back to scanning the documents in front of him. "I hope it helps. I'll let you know if I find anything else."
"Thanks."
Brice sprinted around the desk and toward the office door.
"Wait!" Alex yelled, and Brice held himself back from opening the door and running to his car, but just barely. "You asked for my help; then you're just gonna run out, half-cocked and by yourself?"
"It's dangerous," Brice said.
"Look, you've got three possible properties to search. If it's so dangerous, why don't you call the police and let them search the properties?"
Brice shook his head. "I can't let this turn into a hostage situation. Chester's unpredictable, and if the cops get to him before I do, he could do something rash and hurt her. He wants me, that's the only reason he's holding Janna. And I'm gonna give him what he wants."
"So you think you know where he is?"
"Yeah, he's at my grandparents' house."
"Are you sure? What about the storefront, or the house in Portland?"
"Neither are secluded enough for his tastes. His mother hated airing her dirty laundry, and she punished her son often enough for his public indiscretions. He wouldn't want to risk exposing himself to a mass market."
Alex shook his head. "I don't like assuming anything about this guy. Five minutes ago you didn't think he owned any property. Maybe you should stop underestimating him."
Brice scowled at Drake's words. Was he really underestimating his cousin? Was his thinking clouded?
No. His grandparents' place was the most likely choice. But Brice wouldn't spurn Alex's advice. "You're right. If you want to help, you can make the drive to Portland and check out that bungalow."
Drake nodded. "And the storefront in Bend?"
Brice pulled out his phone and dialed his assistant.
"Yeah, boss?" Tony's voice was energetic, despite its owner having been up all night, managing the security details from Brice's office.
"I need you to dispatch security details to check out some addresses for me. Tell them not to go inside when they get there, but to check for lights or any sign of occupation. One's in Bend, and another in Portland. Mr. Drake will be waiting for the detail when they arrive at the Portland location. They are to back him up."
"Give me the addresses."
Brice did, then followed up with a warning. "My cousin Chester owns these properties, and he might be holed up, holding Janna hostage. Tell security not to approach them if they find them, but to call me when they get there and tell me what they see."
"Are you gonna be at the Bend address?" His assistant was sharp and didn't miss a detail.
"No, there's a third possible location. Near Reedsport."
"I'll dispatch a security team to back you up there. Give me the address."
"Good thinking."
"If Drake's heading up the Portland operation, and you've got the Coast, then I'm going to Bend to take charge there."
"It's too risky."
"Not too risky for you. Or Drake. Or me. No negotiations." Tony could be stubborn when he wanted to. Brice thought it was a great quality to have in an assistant.
"Fine. Call me when you get to Bend." Brice hung up the phone, then nodded to Drake, who was packing up his laptop and getting ready to depart. "Thanks."
"Thank me when we find Janna."