Authors: Iris Johansen
A long pause.
What was he thinking? Was she making any impact at all?
He finally replied. “To the contrary, Kendra. He has everything to do with this. He disrespected us both when he refused to listen to you about me. He’s now paying the price.”
“Of course he didn’t listen to me, Colby. You were too smart, and you covered your tracks too well. The whole world believed you were dead.”
“You didn’t believe it, Kendra, even though you wanted to believe it more than anyone on Earth.”
“I’ve met a few dozen victims’ family members who wanted to believe it more.”
“Possibly. But after today, there will be no doubts, Kendra. This is my gift to you. The whole world will know how right you were. I could have just vanished and let you twist in the wind, espousing your ridiculous theory…”
Kendra’s phone vibrated. She glanced down and saw a text from Sam.
KEEP HIM TALKING. TRYING TO TRACK. FBI AND SDPD ARE IN THE LOOP.
She looked back up. “Don’t pretend this is for anyone but you. You enjoyed the hell out of the fact that no one believed me.”
“For a little while. But it annoyed me that Stokes couldn’t see that such complex planning and clean execution could only originate in a mind like mine. So it’s for both of us. I’ve been planning this for a long time.”
“Whatever you planned, it didn’t involve this man. Or Sheila Hunter. You didn’t know them two weeks ago. Stokes can’t possibly matter to you.”
“Then should I kill him right now?”
“No! You’ve made your point.”
The screen went black for a moment, then came back. Colby suddenly entered the frame and stepped behind the table. He appeared slightly more muscular than she remembered, and his hair now covered his ears. But his blue eyes were as striking as ever, and his small teeth still gave his angular face a feral quality.
“Only partially.” He looked down into Stokes’s face. “But he’s seen the error of his ways in one important aspect. Admit your mistake, Stokes. Am I still alive?”
Stokes’s expression was a mask of anger and terror. “Yes, you bastard, you’re alive.”
“Excellent.” Colby spoke to the camera. “I invite you all to watch as I apply one cut to Detective Stokes’s body each five minutes. In exactly one hour, he will die.”
“What will that prove?” Kendra voice was strained, frantic. “Don’t do it, Colby!”
Colby didn’t acknowledge her outburst.
He paused, raised his knife, and stabbed Stokes in the stomach.
Stokes
screamed
.
Then, as the detective gasped and wheezed with pain, Colby stepped out of the frame.
Kendra stared at the screen, stunned and horrified at what she had just seen.
Then she picked up her phone. “Sam, you saw that?” She had to steady her voice. “He meant it. You have to find him. Stokes will die if you don’t.”
“No pressure,” he said hoarsely.
“Of course there’s pressure. Do you think I want to put you in that position? If I could do it myself, I would. But it’s you, and I can’t help—”
“It’s okay,” Sam interrupted. “I’ve done some of my most brilliant work under unbelievable pressure. I’ll just see that this is one of those times.”
Good. Stokes needed Sam’s hubris right now. It might be his only chance.
Beth cut in, “Sam just tossed me the phone. Literally. He’s working like crazy. I never thought fingers could move across a keyboard that fast.”
“Any luck?”
“Some. He traced the data stream to one relay center, and he’s working on another.”
“And you did say Griffin is clued in.”
“Yes, Sam was in touch while you were talking to Colby. I think the entire FBI office is watching that feed. SDPD, too.”
“Good.”
FBI Field Office
San Diego
GRIFFIN STEPPED OUTSIDE HIS
office, where the agents and support personnel were standing around the television monitors. They had just watched Colby plunge his knife into Stokes. The bleeding, shirtless detective was now having difficulty breathing.
The agents slowly turned toward Griffin and away from that hideous picture.
“Stop just standing there. If one more person looks at me with that dumb look on their face, they’re fired. You saw it with your own eyes. Eric Colby is alive.”
Special Agent Roland Metcalf practically sprinted from his cubicle. He definitely did not have a dumb look on his face. “Who’s the hostage?”
“Martin Stokes, SDPD Homicide. He was working the marina murder.” Griffin spoke to the other agents as they gathered around. “I’ve just mobilized the Critical Incident Response Group. We may have a fix on his location within minutes, but we can’t count on that. Your analysis of this video must begin
now
. You heard him. Colby has threatened to murder Stokes within the hour.”
Metcalf shook his head, and said slowly, “Then Kendra Michaels was right.”
“I’ve been close to believing that ever since she produced those trophies. Now there’s no doubt. Metcalf, I need you to organize backup for the CIRG team. If we get the word, we’ll need to fly out of here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Griffin and Metcalf had just begun to coordinate duty assignments when a hush fell over the room.
They turned to see that Colby had stepped back on-screen, still brandishing his large knife. He spoke to the camera. “Fifty-five minutes.”
He jabbed Stokes’s left side with the knife, and blood spurted as he withdrew it.
SHEER RAGE COURSED THROUGH KENDRA’S
veins as she watched Colby’s self-satisfied expression on-screen. Stokes writhed in pain, almost appearing to pass out at one point.
She turned from her tablet and activated the speakerphone function. She was hurriedly pulling on her leather jacket.
“Tell me that you have something for me, Sam.”
“Just a few more seconds…”
“Stokes is running out of time.”
“Colby has run through three different relay centers, and one of them is particularly good at safeguarding its clients’ privacy.”
“How good?”
Kendra heard a barrage of rapid-fire keyboard clicks, then nothing.
“Sam?”
“Not good enough. I just got it. It comes back to a local IP address, right here in San Diego.”
“Where?”
Sam cursed. “It’s a customer of a small Internet provider on the east side, Rocketstream.”
“Do you have a street address?”
“It doesn’t work that way. Only Rocketstream knows which IP address is being used by which customers. They happen to be one of the providers who won’t release that information without a court order. Normally, I’d commend them for that, but now I—”
“Court order. Surely, considering the circumstances, they’d be willing to—”
“We don’t have time to find out. By the time someone talks to a supervisor and supervisor’s supervisor, it could be too late for Stokes.” More clicking computer keys. “Their service area is in the Adams North neighborhood. “Get the police, your FBI buddies, the cavalry, anyone you can find, and get them over there. I’m going to break about half a dozen laws and hack into Rocketstream’s customer database.”
“How long will that take?”
“By the time you and the cavalry get over there, hopefully I’ll have an address for you.” More rapid clicks of the keys. “Go!”
North Mountain View Drive
San Diego
AS KENDRA TURNED ONTO
the street that ran alongside Mountain View Park, she spotted the two brown vans that transported the FBI Critical Issue Response Group. A dozen squad cars were also on the scene, flashers on, and obviously awaiting orders.
As she was doing, she thought desperately.
Come on, Sam …
Griffin was standing out in the street, coordinating with the San Diego PD SWAT team commander. Kendra skidded to a stop and jumped out of her car.
Griffin moved toward her. “Still waiting for that address.”
“From your end or mine?”
“Officially, mine. Your source was right, Rocketstream Internet is requiring a court order. But if you can provide the street address while we work on that, I won’t worry too much about how you obtained it.”
Kendra held up her phone. “I have an open line to Sam Zackoff. So far he—”
“I’m going to forget I heard that name, just in case he’s now doing something terribly illegal. But I did appreciate his forwarding me the feed that Colby is sending out.”
“He’s forwarding it from my laptop.” She added bitterly, “It’s a gift from Colby. You know, the man no one believed was still alive.”
“They believe it now. And, trust me, this has already changed how a lot of people think of you.”
“I don’t give a damn about that. I just want to get Stokes back. What’s his status?”
Griffin cocked his head over at one of the squad cars, where several detectives had gathered around an iPad.
“That sicko is appearing every five minutes like clockwork to stick him with that hunting knife. Stokes is hanging on, though. He’s one tough hombre.”
Griffin turned and strode away to speak to the members of his critical-response team.
Kendra grabbed the tablet computer from her car’s seat and adjusted the brightness to compensate for the outdoor viewing conditions. She looked at Colby’s horror show, and her shaking hands tightened on the tablet. Stokes was tough, but he was now a bloody mess and obviously weaker than he’d been only a few minutes before.
Hang on, Stokes …
We’re trying so hard.
His mouth twitched. He appeared to be trying to say something.
She reached into her console and pulled out a pair of earphones. She stuffed the rubber tips into her ears and plugged them into her tablet.
The audio feed to Stokes was clearly open. She could hear his jagged breathing and his body shifting on the table, and what sounded like the occasional rumbling of traffic outside. But Stokes had clearly given up on trying to speak.
It wasn’t happening. He looked as if it was taking everything he had just to remain conscious.
Damn you, Colby.
She jerked out her earphones just in time to feel her phone vibrating in her pocket. She looked at the screen, and her heart skipped a beat. Yes!
“We got it!” She yelled across the street to Griffin. “It’s 620 San Miguel Avenue.”
He tensed and repeated the address. “Is that right?”
She nodded. “Go get him.”
Griffin smiled and whirled to his team. “We’re gone.”
* * *
SAM LEANED BACK IN THE
leather desk chair, limp, and dripping with sweat.
“You did it,” Beth said.
He glanced at the video feed of Stokes on Kendra’s laptop. “I haven’t done it yet. He only has a few minutes left.”
“They’re already in the neighborhood. They’ll make it.”
Sam looked down at his phone, where Kendra had just confirmed her receipt of his text. She added,
THE TEAM IS EN ROUTE. WILL KEEP YOU POSTED.
“What now,” Beth asked.
He shrugged. “We wait.”
“To hell with that. We’ll meet her there.”
He sat up straight. “Seriously?”
“I couldn’t be more serious.” She turned toward the door. “Let’s go.”
San Miguel Avenue
San Diego
KENDRA STOOD NEXT TO GRIFFIN AT
the south end of San Miguel Avenue, just half a block from the house that Sam had located. It was a street of modest one-story homes, and the entire block was now swarming with uniformed officers and tactical teams.
Kendra looked down at her tablet. “Shit. It’s Colby. He’s coming back to finish the job.” She looked frantically between her tablet and the house.
Colby had glided into position behind the table, brandishing his knife. He smiled. “Time’s almost up. Tell me I’ve been more than fair, Kendra.”
She looked frantically back up at the house. “What are they waiting for? Why don’t they go in?”
“Any second now,” Griffin said.
“We don’t have any seconds. Didn’t you hear him? Time’s almost up.”
“I’ve got a SWAT team at the window in the back. We’ll be able to—”
“No!” Kendra was suddenly ice-cold. “Oh, God.”
Griffin’s eyes flew to her face. “What is it?”
Kendra felt her heart pounding out of her chest. “Colby and Stokes aren’t in here.”
“What are you talking about? You told me yourself—”
“I don’t care what I told you. I know they’re not here.”
“How do you know?”
“Stop and listen to the video feed. Before I could hear faint traffic noise in the background, and that would be okay. But now you can hear a beeping noise like a delivery truck backing up. There’s
nothing
like that sound anywhere around here.” She felt as if she was going to throw up. “Dear God, we’re in the wrong place.”
The officers rammed the door open and swarmed the house.
Colby smiled on the video feed. “Say good-bye to Detective Stokes … He really should have believed you, Kendra.”
Griffin’s radio blared. “The residence is empty. I repeat, the residence is empty.”
“Are you watching, Kendra?” Colby asked softly. “Have you figured it out yet?”
And he sliced his blade across Stokes’s throat and stepped back to watch as the blood spurted over his face and chest.
* * *
“OH, MY GOD.” KENDRA STOOD
in the doorway, gazing at the huge computer monitor on the wall of the room the agents had just entered. She slumped back against the wall. “No.”
“Yes.” Griffin moved forward into the room, his hands balled into fists. “Shit. I thought we had him.”
“Wrong.” She closed her eyes to escape the sight of that lifeless body on the screen. “We were all wrong. He wasn’t here. The Stokes feed was probably just a recording on this laptop.”
“Kendra!”
She opened her eyes to see Beth coming toward her. She instinctively straightened and tried to block Beth’s view of Stokes. “Don’t look, Beth. It’s too late. We’re too late. He dangled the bait, then destroyed it before we could take it.”
“Dead?” Beth whispered. She went into Kendra’s arms and held her close. “I’m so sorry. I know how you must feel. But none of it was your fault.”