Eye of the Abductor (13 page)

Inside, she grabbed a throw
blanket and covered up with it on the loveseat. A couple of times, a woman's
laughter exploded overhead.

It was good that Brance had moved
on. He’d be too distracted to take an interest in her plans. Still it bothered
her. While they had danced on the Peabody rooftop, she could’ve sworn he cared
about her.

Silly me.

Brance couldn’t commit. No doubt,
she’d been nothing more than a conquest. He knew how to charm women. If she’d
slept with him, he’d be finished with her by now.

The phone rang. She walked over to
the counter and answered it. "Hello," she said. "Speak up."

No one answered. She hit call
return, but the number was blocked. Could it be the same person who'd called
before?

Feeling like someone was watching
through the sheers, she flipped off her overhead light and stood in the dark.

Now she was certain Plan B was the
path to take. A queasy sensation rumbled through her stomach.

The man who parked at the edge of
the parking lot several times during the week, was he watching her? Or had she
become so paranoid, her mind tormented her with frightening possibilities?

Maybe she’d been so eager to have
Nathan, she had conjured up all the threats to give her an excuse to kidnap
him. If she were wrong, she'd end up back in prison, then she’d never have
Nathan.

Chapter Seven

Seeing Allison's disheartened
expression that evening at the restaurant had killed Brance’s appetite. Her
eyes had been one of a wounded deer and had expressed her disappointment.

If she’d stuck around, she’d been
there when Diane’s brother, Ben showed up. When they returned to his apartment,
Allison was still out.

She’d made it clear she didn’t
want any type of relationship with him. The roadblock she’d put between them
had succeeded. Why did he feel the need to explain his dinner with Diane?

Below, Allison’s front door opened
and closed. He thought about paying her a visit. He glanced at the clock and
decided it was too late.

I don’t owe her an explanation.

Instead he left and drove straight
to a nearby bar. He had a problem, and she was five-nine with long reddish
brown hair and alluring green eyes. Eyes that haunted him. Allison.

“Ready for another one?” the
bartender asked.

He nodded. “Bring it on.”

After several more, the bartender
asked, “You look depressed.”

Brance shrugged.

“Woman problems?”

Normally he didn’t share his
personal life with strangers, but too many beers had made his tongue loose.

“Yep, somehow I got hung up on
this girl. Turns out she served time in prison.”

“How long?”

“Two years.”

“That’s not much. Couldn’t be
anything too serious. You holding it against her?”

Brance shook his head. “No. But
we’re like oil and water. We don’t mix.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m a cop.”

The bartender chuckled. “I can see
how that might cause a sweat.” He wiped over the counter with a damp cloth. “If
you love her, her past shouldn’t matter.”

The choice was simple. He wanted
Allison.

Maybe no one at work would ever
learn of her past. He wouldn’t announce to the precinct that she was a felon,
nor would he introduce her as his girlfriend, the ex-con. And if they
discovered her past, he’d deal with it.

First he needed to find out what
she’d done.

After he finished the beer, Brance
stumbled to his car. He’d had one too many but still drove home. It was
reckless, and he knew better, so he took it slow.

The next morning after he shaved
and dressed, Brance headed down the steps to her apartment. He planned to set
the record straight and come clean, including the way he felt about Allison.
After an apology, he’d ask her to give him a second chance.

After knocking several times,
Allison finally opened the door. Dressed in nice pants, heels, and a long
sweater, she appeared ready for work.

“We need to talk," he
declared.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You’re wrong. I need to apologize
for the way I clammed up on you. It’s just that I was...”

“Rude?”

“Probably. I was thinking more of
insensitive.”

“That too.” She flicked off her
light and started out the door. “If I don't leave now, I’ll be late for work.”

“Can we talk tonight?”

“What will it accomplish?”

“There’s something I need to ask
you.”

“Ask.”

A door opened and closed a few
feet down from them. The man who exited his apartment stared for a moment
before walking to his car.

“Not here. This isn’t the right
place.”

“It’s best if we get on with our
lives.”

“I disagree. I know we felt
something for one another.”

“Yeah, lust.”

“No, something more.”

“It wouldn’t matter. You’re a cop,
and I’m a felon. End of story.” She locked her door and headed toward her car.

He followed behind her. She had
his brain twirling in circles. “Allison, give me a chance.”

She laughed in a snooty-kind of
way. “Why, because I was the only woman who didn’t jump in your bed? I know you
had the woman from the restaurant upstairs last night.”

“And her brother.”

She continued with her accusations.
“Can you honestly look at me and tell me nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“Liar.”

“You’re not listening. You’ve
already made your mind up that I’m guilty.”

“I heard her laughing.”

“You must've heard her brother
laughing as well.”

She frowned. “What’d you say?”

“It wasn’t a date. I grew up next
door to her and was best friends with her brother who happened to be in town
this week. Ben showed up about ten minutes after you left.”

She blew a disgusted sigh. “Do I
have stupid written on my forehead?”       

“Lady, you’ve got problems. You
don’t trust anyone.”

“Why should I?” she retorted.
“Especially a cop.”

Her face paled as she glanced
beyond him.

He turned to see what had her
attention. The gold sedan he'd seen before was parked on the curb. “He probably
carpools with someone in the complex. I can run the plates if it'll make you
feel better.”

"No, don't bother. I'm sure
you're right." She appeared nervous and edgy.

Brance wasn’t doing too well. If
this had been a presidential debate, he’d be declared the loser. "Back to
our conversation."

“It ended five minutes ago.” She
opened her car door, climbed in and started her engine. He stood in the parking
lot as she drove away.

Shit, that didn’t go like I’d
planned.

He should’ve hunted her down at
Bahama Breeze and explained, but once Ben showed up he became distracted. Hell
now he’d screwed up any chance with Allison. With her trust issues, she’d never
believe him.

***

Brance sat at his desk and studied
each case folder from the pharmacy burglaries. A moment of enlightenment
engulfed him. He’d missed something. Something the pharmacies had in common.
They all used Safety First as their security provider. And most security
companies provided camera surveillance. Why hadn’t he considered it before?

Perhaps there wasn’t a hacker.
Maybe the perps had someone working on the inside. But most alarm companies had
their monitoring facilities out of town. He googled Safety First and got
several hits.

After discovering it was located
in Memphis, he wanted a list of employees who had access. He made an appointment
to speak with the company’s owner, then grabbed his keys and left.

A young pregnant woman escorted
him to Mr. Lanier’s office. He thanked her and entered the man’s office.

“Mr. Lanier. I’m Detective Brance
Stone with the Bartlett Police Department. Thanks for seeing me.”

The well-dressed middle-aged man
motioned for him to sit. “What can I do for you?”

Brance reviewed the robberies with
the executive.

“I spoke with another detective
concerning the first one.”

“Since then, there have been three
others. Did you realize your company provides security for all the pharmacies
hit?”

The man’s face appeared strained.
“I'm aware of it. What are you saying?”

“That someone who works for you
found a way to mute the signals coming in so no one would respond.”

“I surely hope not.”

“Can you provide names of the
employees who have the ability and access to divert the signals? This person
would be working between the hours of four and seven A.M.”

The man surrendered easily. “I’ll
have a list for you tomorrow morning.”

After leaving Safety First, Brance
stopped by to visit his mom while his dad wasn't home. He planned to bring up
his dad’s attitude. She couldn’t avoid the topic forever.

When he pulled in front of the house,
Carla was coming down the front steps. He turned into the driveway and pulled
next to her car. He climbed out and stood beside his car.

Carla walked over to him. “She’s
not here.”

He placed his hands in his
pockets. Being with Carla made him edgy. “Too bad. Thought I'd take her to
lunch.” He glanced inside Carla's car. “Where are the twins?”

“Kindergarten. I took the
afternoon off.”

Carla wore the same classy
fragrance she did when they’d dated. Immediately, the floral scent activated
memories, memories of lazy Sunday afternoons spent in bed, making love. He
forced the unwanted memories away. They meant nothing now.

“I can’t believe they’re old
enough to be in school.”

“Time flies. I stopped by to take
June to lunch also,” she said, slipping her purse strap over her shoulder.

“Maybe another time." He
decided to offer her an apology. "Carla, I'm sorry for what I said at
dinner the other night.”

“It was a blow I didn’t need. Not
in front of Dillon.”

“Yeah, he can be a jerk. Dillon
and I have never particularly liked one another. He’s never forgiven me for being
born. We’ve always been rivals instead of brothers.”

“I’m afraid Dillon only married me
to piss you off.”

It worked.

Brance shrugged. “You went
willingly, Carla.” He didn't like standing this close to her. “And apparently
he did us both a favor. You didn't love me. Not the way you loved Dillon. So it
all worked out.”

“But I did lov
…
”

Brance placed his index finger
over her lips. Lips he’d kissed endlessly before their breakup. “Don’t say it.”
He slipped inside his car and left the door partially open. “I have a couple of
places to go. I might swing back by here later.”

“Brance, wait I’m worried. I think
Dillon’s tired of me. That’s what I came over to talk to your mother about. I’m
afraid I’ll lose him.”

“I’m terrible with relationships.
Don’t you need to have this conversation with Dillon?”

Carla nodded, wiping a tear
running down her cheek. “Your mom told me you’d met someone.”

“Met her and already screwed it
up. I got to go, Carla. Talk to Dillon.”

“I’ll try.”

Brance closed the car door to
escape the awkward moment and waved. The last thing he needed was for Carla to
cry on his shoulder. He didn't find any thrill in the fact that Carla and
Dillon were having problems. Instead he was concerned. Maybe, he had forgiven
them.

At the precinct, Brance spoke to
his Inspector and Chief about what he’d discovered, soaked up a fair amount of
praise, and then returned to his desk.

He wanted to know what crime
Allison had committed. He googled Allison Davenport and a page of different
women named Allison Davenport came up. None of them her. He went online to
archives of convicted felons and typed in her name. Zilch. Was Davenport her
married name or maiden name? Then he realized he’d never asked. Nor had she
ever mentioned her husband’s name. When someone called him, he swiveled his
chair around. “Hey, Randy. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Shawn’s on his own.
The rookie’s finally been given his own car.”

“He’s a good guy. You look lost
without him.”

Randy laughed. “Yeah. Now I don’t
have anyone to listen to my jokes.”

“Poor guy. Probably thought he had
to laugh.”

“Seen much of your neighbor?”

“No. Why?”

“Shawn saw her working in the
nursery last Sunday where he and his wife attend. I think they attend the Baptist
church on Kirby.”