Cold Silence (A High Stakes Thriller) (13 page)

Cody watched the next morning as her neighbors the Dawsons pulled out of the garage and headed off for their Saturday activities. The house was completely clean, prints included. And to keep from messing it up, she'd spent the night in the garage on a cot, though she wouldn't have called it sleeping. She'd been waiting for someone to arrive for her. If Kirov had Ryan, surely he would come for her, too. Or perhaps the torture of not knowing was his way of making her pay. It was too subtle, she decided. Subtlety wasn't like Kirov. Oskar Kirov had something bigger in store.

She watched the neighbors' car until it had disappeared around the corner and then waited another three minutes. They had breakfast and played Saturday-morning bridge at some friends' house, Mrs. Dawson had told her once. It didn't matter where they were going. Just that it was the same place as every week and that they wouldn't be back for at least three hours.

Dressed in sweats and running shoes, Cody headed out her back door. She crossed the sidewalk and entered the Dawsons' side yard. Moving swiftly, she followed the slippery brick path around the side of the house to the fence, then reached up and unhooked the latch. The door came loose and Cody opened it slowly, waiting for the dog to appear. The Dawsons' dog, Jerri, was a German shepherd-collie mix that they had once asked Cody to take care of when they'd had a family emergency. This morning she was taking Jerri out for her own purposes.

Jerri bounded across the yard as Cody found his leash on a small hook on the outside of the house. He pawed and licked at her as she tried to maneuver the clip onto his collar, and she immediately thought of how funny Ryan had thought it was to watch her go through the same thing. He'd lain on the grass, roaring, while she had struggled with the dog that weighed almost as much as she did.

When she finally got the leash attached, Jerri bounded around in a circle, and she knew he was missing Ryan, too. "It's going to be okay, Jerri. We're going to go get him."

She led the dog out of the yard and closed the gate behind her. She opened the back of the Jeep and pulled the dog in before closing the hatch and getting into the driver's seat. The Underwoods' house was exactly where she'd expected it to be, a few blocks from Landon's in an equally wealthy neighborhood where people had 2.4 children and 2.9 cars and 1.5 dogs that they walked on a Saturday morning. She drove past as slowly as she could without being conspicuous. The light was on in the kitchen, but she didn't see any signs of activity. There was one car, a gray GMC Suburban, in the driveway, and the garage was closed.

She continued on a couple more blocks and parked her car near a corner so it would be hard to tell exactly where she was headed. She was anxious to get to the Underwoods', but it was early still. Little boys were rarely outside before nine or so. So instead of heading toward the Underwoods' house, she started to run with Jerri in the opposite direction.

She and Jerri made a three-mile loop, passing the Underwoods' house twice in the process. It was still quiet the second time she came by, so she continued to run. Her breathing measured, she was more relaxed than she'd been since the time Ryan had been picked up from school. In the past hours, she had wondered a thousand times what she was doing or thinking the moment Ryan was stolen. Had she felt his pain? It was not something she let herself dwell on now. She focused on the pattern of her breathing, on the steady
whoosh-whoosh
of the air as she pushed it out her mouth. Her feet went
plat-plat
on the moist concrete while Jerri's chain
tink
ed beside her.

Jerri was keeping up, although she knew he wasn't used to so much exercise. She would make sure he got plenty of water afterward. She made a smaller loop and started up the Underwoods' street in time to catch the gray Suburban backing out of the drive. She ran faster, waving to stop them despite the fact that she couldn't possibly explain why she would be asking questions about who had picked R.J. up from school unless something was desperately wrong.

She waved anyway. Something would come to her.

The driver of the truck was about her age, maybe a few years older. His hair was salty on the edges and he appeared to be balding. He looked short behind the wheel, and as she reached the car, he stopped and rolled down the window.

She stopped running and shook her head to give herself time to suck in a deep breath. Beside him in the passenger seat sat a young boy. He wore a navy-and-white game shirt. She hoped he wasn't Jamie because the chances of getting to talk to this boy alone didn't look good.

"I just had a question about today's soccer game," she said, noting the shin guards the boy had in his lap and praying she'd guessed the right sport.

"Claremont or St. Stephens?" he asked.

St. Stephens was where Ryan went. "St. Stephens," she answered, feeling the words come out in a croak.

He smiled. "Inside. I'm on Claremont today. Lisa can help."

"Great."

He waved and started off, the diesel Suburban a rattling roar on the quiet street.

She waited until he was out of sight to turn to the house again. It was still quiet and she didn't want to ring the bell and have to explain to Peggy that she needed to talk to Jamie. She found a spot of sidewalk that was blocked by a hedge and sat down to stretch. If anyone asked, she'd just say she pulled something. Everyone in their forties could appreciate that.

Jerri formed a furry ball against the cool cement, lying on his face and dropping his chin on his front paws as he panted to cool off. She wished she'd brought some water with her, but they'd both have to wait. She looked repeatedly at her watch. The Dawsons were never gone more than about three and a half hours, and she needed to get the dog home before they returned.

Almost a half hour had passed before she finally got to her feet and started to think of excuses to ring the bell. As she started in a slow stroll toward the house, a kid on a scooter zipped by and dropped the scooter at the bottom of the Underwoods' stairs before bolting up them and pulling his helmet off.

He rang the bell once, waited not quite ten seconds, and then rang it two more times.

Standing in front of the neighbor's yard, she heard someone yell from inside.

The door opened and a boy R.J.'s age came out to join the second kid, a scooter in hand.

She watched the two of them talk, wondering how to intercept them before they took off. Looking down at Jerri, she had an idea. She unhooked his leash and bent down to rub his head. "Okay, Jerri. Be a good boy. Now go."

Giving him a little shove from the backside, she watched him take off down the street. Just like a dog. She gave him a healthy head start and then started after him. "Madison, come back. Maddie!" she yelled, afraid that calling him by his real name would simply bring him back. She passed the boys and stopped, pretending to be out of breath.

She bent over her knees and dropped her head. "Darn it all."

The boys were laughing.

She looked up and gave them a tired smile. "I'll give you guys ten dollars if you can catch that dog."

They exchanged an excited look. "Heck, yeah," Jamie Underwood said, strapping his helmet on.

The two of them took off down the street and Cody followed close behind.

Jerri had gone only half a block before stopping to rest. The boys halted within a few feet and clapped their hands. Jerri bounded over and Jamie caught hold of his collar.

"You owe us ten bucks!" the other kid said.

Cody nodded. "I know. I can't thank you guys enough. He really takes off sometimes. I don't know how his leash came off."

"No biggie," Jamie said, beaming.

She took hold of Jerri's collar and made work of reattaching the leash. She knew the boys weren't going anywhere now. Not without the ten bucks she owed them. "You're Jamie Underwood, aren't you?"

He looked at her exactly the way she'd trained Ryan to look at strangers who spoke to him.

"I'm R.J. O'Brien's mom."

He nodded slowly.

She put her hand through Jerri's leash and reached into her pocket. "Let me find that money." She figured it was now or never. "He got picked up by his dad on Friday. I heard you were there."

Jamie frowned. "Yeah."

"His dad is up in Tahoe and the phone lines are down, so I'm trying to figure out how to reach him."

Jamie Underwood's face softened just slightly. The other kid looked bored.

"I'll know where they were going by what car they had."

"What car?" Jamie asked.

The other kid shrugged. "My dad does that. He's got an old truck he only drives up at his ranch in Mendocino. He never takes his Merc up there."

Merc? She nodded agreement.

Jamie frowned. "I guess it was like a van."

"A van? Do you remember what color?"

"He's got two vans?" the second kid asked.

She ignored the kid and focused on Jamie, who didn't seem to mind the question.

Jamie frowned again, watching her hand and waiting for the money to appear. "I don't really remember."

"Shoot," she said, pulling out her wad of cash. "It really would help me."

Jamie stared at the money. "I don't know, maybe it was blue." He paused. "Or gray."

"Blue or gray," she repeated.

"I think."

"Can we have the money now?" the other kid asked.

She nodded, unable to find another question to get at what she needed. But without something from Jamie, she was at another dead end. She handed the money to Jamie. "Thanks again for helping me with the dog."

"Sure."

The other kid reached for the money from Jamie, but it was already in his pocket. "I caught the dog," Jamie reminded him.

The other kid gave him a silent glare.

They turned to go and Cody just watched. Her skin tingled with desperation to reach out and grab Jamie, to sit him down and hound him for information. But she stood still, Jerri heaving and panting on the ground beside her feet.

Jamie got on his scooter and then turned back. "I think the van was white."

"White?" she repeated.

He smiled, proud that he'd remembered. "I'm pretty sure."

A white van. What could be more difficult to find? She dropped her head and turned back toward the Underwoods' house and the direction of her car. She'd find another option. There would be another clue. Kirov would contact her. Something had to happen, she reminded herself. She would make it happen.

As she focused on the street before her, a navy blue Porsche pulled to the curb. Cody passed, anxious to get home and figure out what to do next.

She walked another ten feet before she heard a voice.

"Hi there!"

She turned back to see Travis Landon standing beside the car.

"I'm glad I caught you." He crossed behind the car in a pair of worn Levi's and a faded navy T-shirt that made him look like a model for a summer vacation spot in the mountains. "I've been thinking about this all night, and I know you don't want to call the police, so I've got an investigator we can talk to. His name's Dusty McCue. He's done some employee background work for me. He's got a lot of ties with the police, but he's not a cop." He held his hand up as though to interrupt her if she started to argue, which she didn't. "And he's very discreet. I've already called him and he's available."

She exhaled and wished she could disappear. She forced her shoulders back and weighed Travis's offer. Nothing sounded better to her ears than the help of someone professional. But what would McCue do? First he'd want to know who would take Ryan. It was a question she couldn't answer—not without risking too much. He'd want to talk to Jamie about the man he'd seen. That meant involving Jamie's parents and the school. Media. It would all lead to media. And increased media attention meant increased pressure on Kirov. That was the last thing she wanted. She needed to stay calm, stay quiet, and work this from the inside. Just her and whatever FBI help she could get in silence.

"Cody?" Travis said, drawing her from her thoughts.

"Oh, sorry," she said, feeling her lips tremble as she forced them into a smile. "I was just thinking about the crazy night we had. R.J.'s home. He came home this morning."

Travis frowned, his gaze traveling over their surroundings as though questioning why R.J. wasn't right there. It would have been a good question. When she found Ryan, she wasn't going to let him out of her sight again—ever. He motioned to Jamie's house. "I was just coming to talk to Jim and Lisa Underwood, see what Jamie remembers about who picked up R.J."

"No need. R.J.'s fine, came home right after I left your house," she lied, forcing a smile.

"Really. Where was he?"

"His uncle picked him up. R.J. was supposed to tell me about it but he forgot."

"And he had plans with Peter," Travis said.

She nodded, letting her gaze go to the dog circling her legs so that she didn't have to look at Travis. "I know. I'm sorry about that. I promise we'll set things straight with Peter."

She glanced up as Travis's eyes narrowed. "He's back," he said, looking skeptical.