Leah groggily opened her eyes to darkness and dampness. With no clue where she was, she tried to remember what happened, but her brain seemed to have frozen. She could not concentrate hard enough to remember anything. Squeezing her lids shut she tried to focus. Opening and closing her eyes several time to adjust to the darkness yielded little fruit. She could barely make out anything.
The floor was cold and hard, like concrete. She twisted and tried to get up. Only then noticing that her hands and feet were bound with a gag over her mouth. She laid still for some time, trying to get a sense of where she was. In the stillness, she heard a sound. It was a feint tapping. Was it someone walking? She wondered. No, the sound was constant, like a rhythm, but it was the same. It didn’t seem to be moving. It had a familiar ring to it like she’d heard it before. She listened keenly and then it occurred to her that it was dripping water.
Leah strained her eyes to see through the darkness, but there was nothing. It was too black to see anything. Soon, drowsiness overcame her and her eyes slowly closed as sleep overcame her.
* * *
“Where is he now?” Lawson asked Nolan.
His partner was responsible for GPS tracking of Alan Smith. In Nolan’s hand was a tablet, which showed a red dot moving along the roadway. Each time the dot paused, a name would flash, indicating the place where the dot stopped.
“He stopped in Cali Mall for about ten minutes and is now on Steven Creek.”
Lawson was driving while Nolan kept his eyes on the tablet. Behind them were three patrol cars with back-up. The senior detective turned on to Steven Creek Blvd and drove below the speed limit, waiting for Nolan to update him.
“He stopped,” Nolan said. “Nowhere in particular … he’s off again.” Another ten minutes passed before Nolan spoke. “He turned unto Berkeley Close... he’s slowed the vehicle.”
“What’s on Berkeley Close?”
“That entire area belonged to the McKinley’s. Their old mansion sits on that property.”
Lawson didn’t need much more than that. The McKinley mansion was the ideal place to conceal a hostage. He knew his gut had been right. That’s what made him the detective he was. The tracking device that had been attached to the car by one of the officers from the surveillance team, led them straight to him. Alan didn’t even know it was there.
Before reaching the location, he made a call to the IT department. “Do we have a trace on the perps?”
“We traced Bolin’s cell phone to Clarendon Street. The other two cell phones are in the same area,” was the reply.
“Keep a lock on them, don’t lose them,” he instructed.
“Sir, a 911 call was placed from the area of Berkeley just a minute ago. Some woman has been held hostage there.”
“That idiot just dug his own grave.” Lawson chuckled before ending the call.
Lawson pulled up outside a Victorian style house that looked to be more than a hundred years old. With the best of the department at his service, he split the men into teams. One team, including himself, would enter the house while the others he placed at pivotal points around the old mansion. Nolan was in charge of the men outside.
There were two floors above ground, but his instincts told him to follow the footprints in the thick dust on the floor. There was a door in the old kitchen that led to a cellar of some kind, footpaths led there. With hand signals, he motioned for the men to back him up. Slowly he pushed the door open and stepped into the dark stairwell.
“Smith, this is the police, we know you’re down there!”
Silence returned to him and he glanced at the officer beside him. Smith’s vehicle was parked outside so he must be inside somewhere. He signaled to two of his men to search the rest of the house.
“Alan Smith come on out now with your hands in the air!” he repeated. “We’re coming in and we can’t promise we won’t hurt you.”
“Don’t shoot,” a voice came at him from the darkness below.
A light switched on and Alan appeared with his hands in the air. The officers with him rushed forward, cuffing him and flanking him on both sides.
“Where is the Miss Brooks?” Lawson asked.
“She’s down there,” Alan replied quietly. “How’d you find me?” he asked. “I didn’t take her, I was set up.”
Lawson ignored his plea of innocence. “You are under arrest for the attempted murder of Quinn Harrison and the kidnapping of Leah Brooks, you have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney and if you can’t afford one, then scum like you may just rot in hell.”
Alan flashed a look at him on the last few words and lowered his eyes. “I must talk to Quinn, please….”
“Keep silent,” Lawson advised. “Take him away.”
They escorted him and shoved him into the back of one of the patrol cars. Three officers came up from the cellar with Leah, while the patrol car with Alan rolled away from the broken down mansion. She squinted her eyes from mid-morning sun, raised her hand to shade them from the glare. When she saw Lawson, she gave him a weak smile.
“Did they hurt you?”
“No,” she said, her voice was hoarse. “I want to see his face. I want to know who did this.”
Lawson’s brows knitted in confusion. “You didn’t see his face?”
“The one who brought me here, he drugged, gagged and bound me. But that smell I will never forget.”
“What smell?” Lawson frowned.
“Like … let me see,” Leah closed her eyes and furrowed her brows. Her eyes popped open and her face brightened. “Gym shoes!”
Lawson made a note of this. Harrison described the perp as smelling like dirty socks, now Leah said gym shoes. Gym shoes – dirty sock – it was all the same.
“Gym shoes. Are you sure?”
“The smell made me wanted to vomit,” she told him. “But the voice I heard a while ago is new. I never heard that voice before. Who was it? He came yesterday as well … or was it today… I’m confused. But this guy gave me water.”
“Is there anything else you can tell us?”
Squinting her eyes, she placed a hand on her brow. “There was something else, but I can’t quite remember it all.”
“Don’t worry Miss Brooks, it’ll all come back soon.” This was Nolan speaking. “The ambulance is on its way.”
“Thank you for finding me,” she said and then her eyes widened. “Lila, my cat!”
“Don’t worry about the cat, he’s in good hands,” Lawson chuckled. She looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Your boyfriend is taking good care of her.”
END OF BOOK 1
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