A Killer's Watch (4 page)

Chloe nodded, laughing lightly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Candace protested.
“I’ve never heard of iGold!”

“Wow, then I suppose the two Cayman accounts we found don’t
really belong to you. A shame, really. All of that lovely money, turned over to
the IRS. We’ll probably get a reward for finding it.”

Candace narrowed her eyes, all semblance of innocence gone.

“What do you want?”

“I told you, we want information. Give us everything you
have on Pepper’s last client, and we forget everything we know about your
business.” Monique stared her dead in the eyes. “We have no problem with free
enterprise, to each his own. But we will find the man who murdered Pepper, and
you will help us.”

“You can begin by showing us the transactions. Is that the
laptop you use for business?” Chloe asked, nodding toward the dining table.

“Yes,” Candace answered, tightly.

“Bring up your iGold account, give us the account number of
the man who paid for Pepper.”

Within minutes, Monique and Chloe had everything Anna needed
to begin tracing the client, including his IP address, which Candace had stored
on her computer.

“Thanks for your help, Candace,” Monique told her as they
were leaving.

“You didn’t exactly give me a choice,” Candace grumbled.
“Now what?”

“Now nothing. Your life goes on as usual. Though I would
check into a better home security system. Anyone can waltz in here. And it’s
not like you can’t afford it,” Monique winked as she and Chloe made their exit.

“That was easier that I thought it would be,” Chloe grinned,
after Candace had slammed the door behind them.

“Piece of cake. Most enterprising people are happy to trade
information, assuming they can keep their business intact.”

“But why didn’t Anna just tap into her computer, get
everything we just did, but without her knowing it?”

“Anna had no way of knowing which iGold account paid for
Pepper. Getting Candace to give it up was the only way to identify it.”

“Now what, she traces the account, matches it to the IP
address, and we have our perp?”

“Oh, if it were only that simple. No, Anson would have given
instructions on how to hide behind online currencies and identities. We can
only hope that the IP address leads us to a place with surveillance cameras,
and that the cameras retained the feed from Tuesday at two in the afternoon.
Then we may get a visual on our guy.” Monique stepped into the elevator. “As
for the iGold, we can match it to the account used to pay for the other
prostitute, Rusty Dennis, corroborating that one person committed both murders.
It could take days, but eventually Anna could trace the iGold account to a real
person.”

“Let’s hope that the missing Iowa teen has days, assuming that
our killer took her.”

“Hard to say, but I’m sure that Jeri and Ethan will have a
better sense of things, once they assess the situation. Let’s do this again,
shall we?”

“Looking forward to it,” Chloe smiled, pointing the car into
traffic.

“Allison, why aren’t you answering the phone? This is the
third time I’ve called you, call me back!” Sandy left the message, a niggling
thread of fear starting to coil in her stomach. Allison was not in school, had
not returned any of the calls, or replied to any of the texts she’d sent during
the course of the day.

Something was wrong, it had to be. Allison would not ignore
her this way on purpose.

Unless she was grounded, which was possible, but even
grounded, she would still have been in school.

Deciding to drop by her friend’s house on the way home,
Sandy waited patiently for her turn to exit the high school parking lot.

~~~

“Ashley, where is your sister?” Trudy Wells tapped her nails
on the desk in her office as she spoke to her eldest daughter. “She’s not
answering her phone.’

“I don’t know, Mom, I just got home. I’m sure she’ll be here
soon.” The sound of the doorbell punctuated Ashley Wells’ answer.

“Who is that?” Trudy asked, hearing the bells chime in the
background.

“I don’t know, why don’t we see?” Irritated with the
interruption of her after-school plans, Ashley dutifully went to answer the
door. “Maybe Allison forgot her keys.”

Seeing Sandy’s face, peering through the sidelights, Ashley
rolled her eyes as she opened the door.

“It’s Sandy, Mom. I’m sure Allison is with her.”

“Allison’s not here?” Sandy asked, hearing Ashley speak to
her mom.

“No, she spent the night with you, remember?” Ashley glared
at the younger girl, thinking what an idiot her sister’s friend could be.

“No
,
she didn’t,” Sandy
stepped inside the house, confused. “I haven’t seen her since last night, at
the club.”

“Did she say club? What club?” Trudy’s voice rose with
intensity. “Did your sister go out on a school night? You said that she went to
Sandy’s, to study. What’s going on, Ashley?”

“I don’t know, Mom, jeesh. Give me a minute, will ya?”
Turning to Sandy, Ashley sighed heavily. This was so beneath her.

“Alright, squirt, you said that you and Allison went to a
club. Did you leave together?”

“No, she wanted to wait to see if Trey showed up. I left
before eleven, she was still there.”

“But she texted me, just before midnight, said that she was
spending the night with you.” Ashley began searching the texts on her phone. “See?”
Showing Sandy the short message, Ashley turned her attention back to her
mother. “I swear, Mom, I thought she was at Sandy’s.”

“Put me on speaker,” Trudy demanded, feeling the icy fingers
of fear close around her heart. “Sandy, did you see Allison at school today?”

“No, she wasn’t there, and she hasn’t answered my calls, or
responded to my texts. That’s why I’m here.” Sandy spoke to the phone, but her
eyes never left Ashley’s. “What if something happened to her?”

“Where did you go last night? What’s the name of the club?”
Trudy reached for her purse, began hunting her car keys.

“It’s called The Barn Door,” Sandy’s voice was shaky. “It’s
in Smathers.”

“Nebraska? You girls drove to Nebraska to go to a club? What
in the hell were you thinking?” Trudy let her fear turn into anger, all of it
directed at Sandy.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Wells, but it’s the closest place to us
that doesn’t check ID’s,” Sandy blurted out. “We were safe, I promise.”

“Not safe enough. Where is Allison?” It was a moot question,
one that Trudy did not expect Sandy to answer. “You stay put, Sandy. I’m
calling the police, I’m sure they will want to speak with you.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Sandy felt her world crumble as she realized
what could have happened to Allison.

“Ashley, if the cops get there before I do, let them in.
Tell them whatever they want to know. I’m on my way.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Ashley echoed, feeling the seriousness of the
situation for the first time.

~~~

“Thank you for speaking with us, Mrs. Torrent. I promise
that we’ll do everything we can to find Shelby,” Jeri squeezed the other
woman’s hand, trying to reassure her.

“Shelby’s a good girl, why did this happen?” Mrs. Torrent
clung to Jeri’s hand like a lifeline.

“I don’t know, but I promise you that we’ll find out,” Jeri
eased her hand away, while maintaining eye contact with the distraught woman.

“Thank you, thank you. I just don’t know what I’ll do
without my Shelby,” the woman cried, shoulders shaking as a new wave of sorrow
hit her.

“Come on now, sweetie, let’s get you a nice cup of tea.” Guiding
the woman inside, Mrs. Torrent’s neighbor waved Jeri and Ethan away.

“That was rough!” Ethan exclaimed when they were out of
earshot. “I hope we can keep your promise.”

“We will,” Jeri told him, grateful to be away from the
overwhelming grief inside the Torrent home. “It’s too bad the men we already
interviewed have alibis. I really want to nail this bastard.”

“How many more on the Iowa list?” Ethan asked, starting the
car.

“Seven. We’ll be lucky to be back in Kansas before
midnight,” Jeri checked her watch. “It’s three-thirty now.”

“We may as well interview them all while we’re here.”

“Agreed. The next one lives about six miles from here. Turn
left.”

“Why don’t you check in with Monique, see if they’ve turned
up anything?”

“You read my mind,” Jeri smiled, trying to get the image of
Shelby Torrent out of her mind. She was only fifteen, but already a beauty. Her
bedroom was every girly-girl’s dream; a canopy bed with pink satin bedding, a
chandelier, dripping crystals, and more pillows than Jeri could count. In the
center of the pillow mountain rested a deep brown teddy bear, obviously
well-adored for years. It broke her heart to think of such an innocent child,
possibly in the hands of Anson’s watcher.

“Take the next right,” she told Ethan as she dialed Monique.
“Then take the third left.”

“Hi, Jeri,” Monique answered the call. “How was the meeting
with the mother?”

“About like you’d expect,” Jeri told her. “Nothing concrete,
but we do believe that this is a kidnapping. Still not sure if it’s our guy, or
not. How are things going with you?”

“So far, we’ve had no luck. The last three names on Anna’s
list were not at home, so we’ll swing back by later today. Otherwise, each man
we spoke to has an alibi.”

“Same here, but we’re starting back on the list, now. Maybe
we’ll get lucky,” Jeri didn’t believe it, but they had to try.

“At least we confirmed the
iG
old
accounts are the same for both transactions. Anna has something to go on
there.”

“Yes, that’s a start,” Jeri sighed. “We’ll be late getting
back, don’t wait on us for dinner.”

“Okay, keep in touch.”

“You, too.”

~~~

“Will you be joining me tonight for the Arts Council
meeting?” Belinda Grant eyed her son warily from across the parlor. A warm fire
burned in the oversized hearth, spreading warmth into the cavernous space.

“Not tonight, Mother. I’m afraid that I already have plans.
Benson can take you.” Graham didn’t bother looking up from his paper as he
answered.

“Benson is not a Grant. You should really take your
responsibilities to the community more seriously, Graham.”

“I take my responsibilities very seriously, Mother, as you
well know. And as our attorney, Benson should earn his keep. Besides, you are
enough Grant for the Arts Council, surely.”

“You sound just like your father,” Belinda chided, picking up
her teacup.

“Thank you,” Graham hid his smile behind the paper.

“What are your plans?” Belinda inquired, politely.

“Nothing that would interest you, Mother dear. I’ll be going
out before you return home. Please don’t wait up for me.”

“Of course not, dear. You are certainly old enough to come
and go as you please.” Belinda hesitated, then asked the question that burned
in her mind. “Will you be in the company of a young lady? It’s high time you
settled down with a wife, you know.”

“So I’ve heard,” Graham purposefully kept the malice he felt
from his voice. “As it happens, I do plan to spend the evening in the company
of a young lady. If it becomes serious, I’ll let you know.”

“Wonderful,” Belinda practically glowed. These days, she
could imagine nothing better than to have grandchildren to spoil.

“Indeed,” Graham shook his paper, indicating an end to the
discussion.

~~~

Allison had long given up on ripping the duct tape bonds,
and her throat was raw from repeatedly screaming. Resigning herself to remaining
immobile on the uncomfortable mattress, she tried to capture tears with her
tongue, as they rolled from her eyes.

As unnerving as the blinking red light on the camera was,
she managed to block it out, in light of everything else she felt.

Chilled to the bone, she turned her thoughts to warm
memories of home, family, and friends in an effort to stave off the terror, and
remain calm.

Whoever was watching probably wanted her to thrash around,
try to get free, she thought. Thinking he got off on it, she denied him the
pleasure. It was the only control she possessed, at the moment.

As the hours passed, she remembered the events that led to
her current situation, cursed herself for the horrible decision to leave the
club alone, and imagined how different things would be, if only Trey had shown
up.

Or if she had left with Sandy.

Or if she had stayed home.

Or if she had been where she told her mom she would be,
studying at Sandy’s house.

Mom. Oh God, she thought. She must be frantic.

“Does she even know that I’m missing?” Allison’s question
came out as a cracked whisper. “Does anyone know that I’m missing? Are they
looking for me?”

With no way to gauge the passage of time, Allison could only
guess that she’d been in the concrete room for hours, but it could be days.
Couldn’t it?

“Please find me, Mom. I want to go home.”

The soft cries of the petrified young woman made her seem
years younger than her actual age.

“Kansas just issued an Amber Alert for sixteen
-
year
-
old Allison
Wells. Last known location was last night at a club called The Barn Door, in
Smathers, Nebraska.” Dylan’s clipped voice came through the phone speaker, loud
and clear. “Her mother, Trudy Wells, reported her missing shortly after school
let out today. She’s expecting your visit. I’ll text you the address.”

“What part of Kansas?” Ethan asked, pulling off the road to
check a map.

“Marsville, a suburb northwest of Toledo.”

“What other details do you know?” Jeri asked.