Doom with a View (26 page)

My alarm increased. I knew Harrison had heard her very clearly—especially as the silence on his end continued for a beat or two. “Hold on,” he said, his voice like ice. “
Where
are you right now, Ms. Cooper?”

“What’s he saying?” Candice asked, but didn’t wait for my reply. Instead she grabbed the phone right out of my stunned hand. “Dutch, it’s Candice. Listen, we need you to get a security detail on the Derby kid ASAP. Abby’s had a vision that he’s about to be abducted. We’re on his tail until you can get an agent assigned. Just tell him to meet us outside Derby’s classroom in Williams Hall on the University of Chicago campus.”

I was frozen in my seat as I stared at her in horror. She gave me a quick quizzical look and all of a sudden the phone seemed to erupt with noise. Candice immediately pulled it away from her ear and then her eyes also grew wide. Reflexively she hit the End button and dropped the phone in my lap. “Oh, shit!” she said.

“Yep,” I agreed. “It has just hit the fan.”

Chapter Eleven

I picked the phone up immediately and hit the speed dial, whispering, “Pick up! Pick up! Come on, Dutch, pick up!”

“Hey, sweethot,” he sang on the third ring.

“Ohmigod!” I squealed into his ear. “Dutch, you have to listen to me! It wasn’t my fault! Candice thought it was you, but it wasn’t, and she just sort of blurted out where we were, but I swear
on my life
she didn’t mean to! It’s not her fault! You can’t blame her! I am sooooo sorry!”

“Abs,” Dutch said calmly, but I continued to beg forgiveness. “Abby!” he nearly shouted, and I calmed down. “I can’t understand what you’re saying. Just take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong.”

There was a small click in my ear and I knew that Dutch’s call-waiting had just signaled. I gasped and shouted,
“Do not answer that!”

“It’s Harrison,” he said, and I could hear the confusion in his voice before I sensed that he suddenly caught up to why I was so panicked. “Oh, shit!” he said, echoing Candice’s sentiment.

“Dutch, I
swear
it was a total accident!”

“Does he know where you are?”

“Yes.”

“Does he know what you’re doing where you are?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause, then, “I’ll call you back.” And with that, he hung up and I leaned forward and banged my head a few times against the dash.

“Abby,” Candice said gently, but I kept banging. “Hey,” she insisted, grabbing my shoulder to prevent another whack. “We’ve gotta get to Michael, remember?”

“He’s going to get fired,” I moaned.

She smiled. “It’s not his fault,” she reasoned, coaxing me out of the car. “We’re mavericks, right? Harrison isn’t going to blame him for something he had no knowledge of.”

I hurried after Candice, my head aching from the pounding I’d just given it and my stomach clenched when I thought about what Dutch must be going through. I felt so bad! If only I’d said something when I realized it was Harrison, like, “Hey there, Agent Harrison! So good of you to call!” If only I had been able to think!

“Come on, honey,” Candice urged, grabbing my arm again as I fell behind. “That’s the hall where Derby’s class is. Let’s just make sure he’s there. Then we can call Dutch back and tell him what’s what.” I moaned again and Candice added, “And I can apologize and offer to call Harrison myself to explain, okay?”

Her suggestion made me feel a little better, so I kept up with her as we jogged the last hundred yards and hurried up the steps. Candice kept an eye on the doors of the classrooms, looking for a particular number. She hurried past room 112 to 114 and announced, “This is the one.” Without further delay she knocked on the door and opened it, revealing a class of about twelve students all eyeing us curiously. An old man in a bow tie standing in front of the chalkboard asked, “Yes?”

“I’m looking for Michael Derby,” she said, still huff ing a little from our run. My eyes scanned the students. With a jolt I realized I didn’t see Michael among the faces.

“He is not here,” said the professor.

Candice looked taken aback. “Oh,” she said, “I’m sorry. I thought this was his classroom.”

“It is,” said the professor. “But Michael has not made it to class today.” Candice looked at her watch. I could see from my view that it was ten minutes after two. “Class starts at two, correct?”

“It does,” said the professor impatiently. “And if you will allow me to get back to my lesson, it will now continue.”

“Sorry!” Candice said, and she shut the door.

“He might be running late,” I offered as I noticed her look at her watch again. “Maybe he stopped to get gas, or something to eat,” I added, but I had the most terrible sinking feeling.

Candice nodded and stepped back out to the hallway to eye it up and down. “I should have asked for his cell phone number,” she muttered.

“He’ll show up,” I said anxiously, pacing in front of the classroom as my left side felt thick and heavy.

Candice shook her head ruefully. “Damn it!” she swore. “Come on, Michael, don’t do this.”

I glanced again at my cell phone and made a decision. I flipped through the most recent call list and hit Send. The line was answered almost immediately. “I ought to throw both you in jail for interfering in a federal investigation against my express order!” Harrison roared.

“Yes, sir,” I said as calmly as I could.“And I wouldn’t blame you if you did. However, sir, there is an issue that demands your immediate attention. And if after I tell you what that is, you still want to haul us to jail, then we will go quietly and cooperatively.”

Harrison appeared surprised by my proposal because it was a moment before he said anything. Finally, though, he barked “What?” so loudly I winced.

“Michael Derby did not show up for class, sir. He is currently MIA.”

“Where’s his security detail?” Harrison barked again.

“His father refused them, sir. When Candice and I went to talk to Michael, we discovered him alone and heading to class. We attempted to trail him, sir, but we lost him shortly after he left his home. So we came here to campus in search of him, but his class started over fifteen minutes ago and there’s been no sign of him.”

There was a very long pause and for a minute I thought I’d lost Harrison. But then, just as I was about to call out to him, I heard him say, “Stay put. Do not move. Watch out for Derby, and if he shows up, call me immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” I said meekly, and the line went dead.

I tucked my cell back into my purse and looked up to meet Candice’s eyes. “Are we going to jail, Abs?”

I sighed. “Not sure. Could go either way.”

“What’d Harrison say?”

“He said to stay put.”

Candice nodded and then took to impatiently pacing the hallway.

Time ticked slowly by, both of us watching for Derby. As Candice and I watched the hallway for any sign of either Michael or the FBI, my radar gave me a hint.

“Hey,” I said to my partner to grab her attention away from peering earnestly down the hallway.

“What’s up?”

“I’m not sure, but I keep getting a strong hit off of the Derby house.”

Candice’s brow furrowed. “You think Michael might be there?”

My left side felt heavy. “No,” I said, scratching my head. “But for some reason I feel like there’s something there. Something we might have overlooked.”

Candice considered that for a minute. “The kid was awfully fidgety,” she agreed. “And scared.”

“Maybe he was just being cautious.”

“You think he knew something?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I think someone or something had him running scared.”

Candice sighed and rubbed her neck. “If someone grabbed him while we weren’t looking, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“We don’t know that he’s been abducted,” I cautioned, but then the poster in my head flashed again and I felt a tremendous sense of dread.

“What?” she asked me, and I knew she’d caught the worried look on my face.

“I don’t have a great feeling,” I admitted.

Candice frowned. “Damn it!” she swore, and went back to pacing.

Finally, at ten minutes to, and when we began to see students emerging from other classrooms, Candice stepped to the door of Derby’s class and opened it. “Sorry to interrupt again,” she said to the room. “But does anyone happen to have Michael Derby’s cell phone number? It’s a matter of extreme urgency.”

One student in the back row raised his hand. “I’ve got it.”

The professor glared hard at Candice and threw up his arms. “In light of all these interruptions, I suppose we will end class on that note,” he snapped, and he began stuffing his briefcase with his notes. “Mr. Jackson, please give the woman Michael’s number so that she will stop interrupting classes!”

Jackson stepped forward sheepishly and scrolled through his cell phone’s directory. Pivoting the screen around, he showed it to Candice, who hurriedly punched the numbers into her own phone. “Thanks,” she said before putting her cell up to her ear and walking back out into the hallway. After several anxious beats she grimaced and shook her head, then said, “Hi, Michael, it’s Candice Fusco. We talked at your home a little while ago, and there was just one more question I needed to ask you. Could you please call me back at this number as soon as possible? It’s really important. I absolutely, positively need to hear from you the moment you get this message.”

She hung up and motioned me over to the far end of the corridor. “What’s your gut say?”

I looked down at the ground. It almost hurt to say it out loud. “It’s too late,” I whispered. “We’re too late. Something really bad just happened, Candice.”

She was quiet, and as the students streamed past us, she took my arm and led me out of the hallway and onto the street. “We were supposed to wait for the Feds,” I protested.

“Yeah, I know,” she replied. “But I hear the food in jail sucks. How about I treat you to something a little more to your liking? Something spicy and loaded with calories.”

“Harrison will be furious,” I cautioned.

“When is he not?” she shot back.

“Good point,” I said. “Let’s go.”

Thirty minutes later Candice’s car was parked in the back lot of a large mall. She’d made me drive while she fiddled with her phone, and after we parked, she unloaded all her gear and advised me to do the same. “We’re taking our stuff into the mall?” I asked, reaching for my duffel bag.

“No,” she said. “We’re catching that bus.” And she motioned across the street to a city bus.

“We are?”

“Yep.”

“Why don’t we just take the car?”

“Because Harrison will have its description and plate number out on every police blotter in town.”

“Please do not tell me we are running from the law
again
!”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, Sundance,” she sang as she ran for the bus. I had no choice but to follow.

I joined her in the back of the crowded bus and we passed up four stops before she motioned us off. I had no idea where we were, but Candice had her trusty iPhone and seemed to be following a map on the screen just fine. After walking two blocks, we came to a quant Mexican cantina and my stomach grumbled in earnest.

As we took our seats, my cell rang. I showed Candice the ID, which read
FBI
, and she said, “Let it go to voice mail.”

I waited out the rings and bounced my knee anxiously as I imagined either Dutch or Harrison leaving a message. When I felt it’d been long enough, I dialed into my voice mail and heard Dutch’s voice say crisply, “Call me.”

I did as ordered and he picked up before the first ring ended. “Where are you?”

“At dinner,” I said.

“Abby . . . ,” he warned.

“Blame my sidekick,” I said coolly. “It’s all her fault.” Candice stuck her tongue out at me and I held in a laugh.

“You need to come in,” Dutch said evenly. “I mean it.”

By now Candice was leaning in so that she could hear our conversation. To make it easier on everybody, I hit the speaker function and she said, “We will, Dutch. But not tonight, okay?”

“Candice, this is serious shit,” Dutch cautioned. “Harrison isn’t kidding around anymore. He’s had it with you two, and he’s had it with me.”

“I get it, buddy,” she said agreeably. “And I promise we’ll make it right. And we’ll be in touch.” With that, she clicked the End button before I even had a chance to say good-bye.

“I don’t want him to get into any more trouble,” I told her.

She looked at me with sympathy. “There’s really no avoiding it. But maybe we can help undo a little damage.” Candice then punched a few digits into her own phone and waited with a perky little smile. I heard the muffled sound of someone answering and then she said, “Good evening, Agent Harrison. It’s Candice Fusco.” The muffled buzzing sound coming through the earpiece intensified, like a hornet’s nest that’d just been poked. But Candice remained cool and collected. “Yes, sir, I’m aware. But you see, we did wait for your agent and they never arrived. We then decided to go to a more convenient location on campus, but we got hungry, so we thought we’d eat first.”

I shook my head in amazement. She was playing a dangerous game here. “What’s that?” she asked after a short pause and lots of buzzing. “Yes, I know you’re furious, sir, and I understand you’re ready to toss our butts in jail. And I truly am sorry. However, we feel that by hampering you right now with a lot of pesky paperwork at our expense it would take your focus off the task at hand, which is to find Michael Derby. I would suggest sending an agent immediately to his home to see if he’s there. I would also suggest sending word to his father and encouraging him to try to contact Michael. And, of course, sir, if we have any more information that we feel may be relevant, yours will be the first number we dial.”

With that, Candice clicked off and beamed me a snarky smile. “If that man doesn’t kill you, I will be truly amazed,” I told her.