Evil Without a Face (9 page)

“Perfect, just like you.” She pinched his cheek, and flaming red streaks shot across Seth’s face. But then she got serious. There was too much at stake to trivialize what they were about to do.

“I really need this to work, Seth. Rig his laptop with your Trojan horse. I got a feeling it’ll be our last shot at Baker.”

“I’m on it. I’ll have it done and tested before you step out that door. Maybe if I have time, I can kick in something extra.”

Seth turned his attention to the computer in his lap, leaving Jess rapt in her thoughts.

If Baker was in the process of severing his links to the old setup, the delivery to Chicago—some poor kid—might turn out to be a sacrificial lamb. She had no way of knowing where or how the “delivery” might be coming. No leads at all, except for the e-mail reference to Alaska. Hell, she didn’t even know if she could trust the intel. There’d be no way to intervene, so she had to do the next best thing.

Her instincts told her to focus on stopping Baker—for the greater good—but could she ignore the feeling that a faceless kid’s life hung in the balance? She hated how that made her feel. No doubt about it. Life sucked on a grand scale, a fact she understood better than most.

Even if Sam could work her cop magic this late in the day and check the flight manifests for all inbound planes from Alaska, the odds weren’t good that her friend would have the resources to go much further. They wouldn’t even know
what to look for. And if the CPD knew she was connected to Sam’s search, everything would come to a grinding halt. Besides, given the time of day and the duration of a flight from Alaska, the plane was already gone, narrowing her odds for success considerably.

She knew she was on her own—as usual.

In no time, Seth had Baker’s laptop rigged and ready to go. He packed it back into the computer bag it came in and handed it to her, the thin gloves removed.

“Call me on my cell if you think of anything else,” she asked.

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded.

Jess got to her feet and headed for the door. “You got my number, right?”

“Yeah, programmed into my cell.” He stood and followed her. His hands fumbled through his pockets, pulling out coins, cash, and a set of keys.

“Let me walk you out. I gotta meet a friend for drinks.” He shrugged and added, “It’s gotta be five o’clock somewhere on the planet, right? You’re welcome to join us.”

“Thanks, but no. I gotta motor, but can I get a rain check?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Seth locked the door behind them and walked with her to the elevators. They chatted as they rode down to the ground floor, the idle chat of two people getting to know one another. For Jess, it felt good to act normal for a change.

He walked her out the building and stood on the sidewalk by the front door, but before he took off, she wanted to make a point. Seth’s part in the computer Trojan horse wasn’t over.

“One last thing. I gotta ask you a big favor.” She winced, realizing the magnitude of what she was about to ask from a new hourly employee. “I’d like you to track Baker’s activity once he gets his property back. I know I’ve got no right to ask, but—”

Without hesitation, Seth replied, “Sure, I’ll do it.”

“Wait, before you commit, you gotta know. With a lowlife like Lucas Baker, I have no idea when or for how long that will be. I’ve gotta scare him up first. You still in? Even with all the flaky hours?”

“Count on it. I’m in.” Again no hesitation.

Jess grinned and shook her head at her employee. “If you’re buckin’ for a raise, Harper, you should probably consider playing harder to get. You’re too easy.”

“And for a guy, there’s no such thing as being too easy.” Seth smirked. Jess had a sneaky suspicion the boy wasn’t talking about the almighty dollar anymore.

“Before I forget…” She grabbed her cell phone off her belt loop and thumbed the menu to her contacts page. “Give me a phone number where I can reach you. Now that you’ve volunteered for duty, I’ve got to reach you twenty-four/seven.”

He gave her his cell number and she keyed it into her phone.

“I’ll stay in touch. And thanks, Seth. You’re a good man.”

She tugged at a loose strand of his hair, and her show of affection sent a blush across his cheeks. In return, he rewarded her with a quirky grin and a shrug. Cute. Damned cute.

With Baker’s laptop slung over her shoulder, she left Seth to carry on and headed for her car, mulling over her situation. Her mind raced with things beyond her control. Under the circumstances, Baker would be laying low, not hanging out at his usual haunts. It would now be a major waiting game—waiting for him to contact her or hunting him down again. Only this time he’d be warier and harder to find.

Hell, what choice did she have?

And from the looks of her apartment, the guy had anger management issues. Baker was beyond pissed. She had a feeling trashing her place was only the first installment to
his payback. It wouldn’t be so bad if this was only a head-on collision between her and Baker, but she knew it wasn’t that simple. Other lives would be at stake, and that thought weighed heavy in the pit of her stomach. Whatever was going to happen, she had to pull her part off clean.

As Jess crossed the street with Baker’s laptop slung on her shoulder, she squinted into the late afternoon sun, unable to shake the image of Baker’s angry face. Even in broad daylight the man triggered a deeply rooted jumble of rage and degrading fear in her—an all too vivid taste of her past. She knew she’d have to find a way to control such feelings or he would have the upper hand.

With other lives at risk, she had to come out on top. And instinct told her time was running thin.
Real thin
.

Payton drove to a building at the junction of the Talkeetna Spur Road and Parks Highway where the state maintained a small troopers’ office only fifteen miles from Susannah’s place. He couldn’t get his mind off the mysterious Anchorage schoolteacher who’d driven Nikki out of town. Taking a kid in the middle of the night, without the knowledge of her mother, was completely irresponsible. No way the woman could claim the incident was one big misunderstanding. What would compel a complete stranger to do such a thing?

But his more immediate problem would be Trooper Dan Fitzgerald.

How could he convince the man to trust him—to allow him to accompany the troopers when they talked to this teacher? He quickly came up with a simple plan. When they entered the troopers’ office, he would let Joe Tanu take charge. It made perfect sense. It was Joe’s turf, and he appreciated Joe’s influence with an organization he’d worked with for years.

When they walked in, they were greeted by a familiar voice.

“Hey, Joe. Figured we’d see you sooner or later.” At her desk behind a counter, Bernice Fleming looked up from her dispatch duties. “Sorry to hear about Nikki, Payton. Susannah and her daughter sure got their share of trouble.”

Bernice shook her head. The older woman’s face was a mix of concocted sympathy and the righteous superiority of a regular churchgoer.

Payton didn’t want to talk about Nikki with Bernice. He had no patience for it. For whatever reason, the woman thrived on other people’s misery. Some folks were like that. Given the woman’s reputation, the implication he heard in her voice was that his niece had probably brought this on herself and Susannah played a hand in it, though he also knew that his hangover had tainted his perspective.

“Thanks, Bernice.” It was all he could get out.

With the incessant pounding in his head, anything from his mouth echoed like a bass drum inside his skull, triggering other painful twinges. He caught a sideways glance from Joe, who picked up on his mounting irritability. In his understated manner, Joe zapped him with a heavy dose of “stick eye.” His friend had practically invented the disapproving look.

Payton shrugged and heaved a sigh.

Let Joe handle this part, jackass! You’re in no condition to play nice.

A handful of folks in town still treated him like a celebrity, leaving him with the empty ache of knowing he never measured up. Bernice Fleming was one of those people who probably thought she meant well, but the way she expressed her sympathy, it seemed she straddled the fence between good intentions and the idle curiosity of a rumor monger gathering intel and a good head of steam. He had no time to sift through the merits of her intentions. Truth told, he preferred outright hostility, something he could deal with, like a beefy lineman hungry to humiliate a cocky young quarterback on a one-way ego trip.

“I suppose a second time doesn’t make it any easier,” Bernice went on. “How’s Susannah holding up?”

“Well, how would you—” He stopped and reigned in his attitude, then took a deep breath before he continued. “She’s doing the best she knows how.”

What the hell? Like a mother would ever get used to her daughter running away?

He knew she was fishing for the real dirt behind Nikki’s disappearance and pushing his buttons to get it, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. No one else needed to know the nightmare of his sister’s pain.

Even living in Alaska, where a guy’s idiosyncrasies were considered normal and his past was respected as private, most folks in Talkeetna went out of their way to speak their minds about him. And he’d brought the same attitude down on his sister by default. For some reason, both their lives were fair sport. And contrary to the norm, many folks had an opinion.

He’d gotten used to it, but Susannah had been an innocent bystander. She deserved better.

His own downward spiral had sucked his sister in—guilt by association—but he received the worst of it by far. To his face or behind his back, it didn’t matter. Most people openly looked upon him as a major disappointment—quite a fall from the celebrity they’d heaped on him not too long ago. Now, he was nothing more than a drunk, a brawler, and a failure. He could see it in their eyes—and his own when he looked in a mirror.

People saw what they wanted to see. He guessed he was no different.

But if Joe hadn’t come along today, he wasn’t sure how much help he’d be to Susannah. He’d worn out his welcome with the local law.

“You need to speak to Trooper Fitzgerald?” Bernice stuck to protocol with the formal title. Her question had been directed to Joe, but she kept her eyes on Payton.

“Yes, we do.” Joe nodded.

The woman glanced over her shoulder, then stood, her chair squeaking with the effort. From behind the plexiglass window, she stepped toward them and rested her elbows on the worn Formica countertop that separated the secured offices from the waiting area.

“He’s on the phone. No telling how long he’ll be.” She forced a smile. “I got some coffee brewing, fresh. Can I get you boys a cup while you wait?”

“Not for me.” Joe shook his head. “Thanks, Bernice.”

Payton did the same, mumbling a distracted reply under his breath.

“You almost missed him. He’s heading to Anchorage, but I’ll slip him a note to let him know you’re waiting. Just have a seat.”

After Bernice ducked behind a closed door, Payton glanced back toward the visitor chairs. With the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he couldn’t imagine sitting while the trooper got off the phone. His impatience had taken a firm grip.

Pacing the small room, he found his eyes unable to settle on any one thing. Flashes of Nikki’s face plagued him, along with erratic sound bites from their last conversations. He’d been so rapt in his own misery, he hadn’t spent much time with Susannah or Nikki; something else to fuel the fires of guilt.

“God, I hate this.”

Payton wasn’t sure he’d spoken aloud, but when he spotted Joe from the corner of his eye, he noticed his friend standing and watching him. Cool and rock steady as still water, Joe’s dark eyes never gave away his thoughts. Most days, Payton envied the man’s self-control. Yet there were other times he thought holding a mirror to Joe’s nose might tell him if the man actually breathed like normal people.

“Trooper Fitzgerald will see you now.” Bernice opened the door to let them come in.

By the time he and Joe walked down the hall to Fitzgerald’s office, the trooper was standing by his desk, ready to leave. He had plans to make their visit short and anything but sweet.

“Look, I gave you the courtesy of staying put until you got here, but I can’t let you come to Anchorage. This is police business, Joe. And last I looked, you weren’t on the payroll.”

Fitzgerald looked intimidating enough in the authoritative duty gear troopers wore, and he had a way of staring that cut lesser men to the bone. His practiced glare came with the job, but being tall and athletic with broad shoulders, Dan Fitzgerald had slid into his late forties with plenty of good miles left. The only signs of his age were thinning dark hair and creases around his pale blue eyes. His seasoned face gave the trooper character and allowed him to readily flip a switch between harsh and merciful at his choosing.

But Joe came from the same cut of cloth. He squared off with Fitzgerald in his own simple way.

“Don’t tell me you’d sit back and twiddle your thumbs if this happened to one of your girls, ’cause I know better.”

Payton hung back and didn’t attempt to break the tension. Eventually, the trooper caved. He showed it in his eyes first, then lowered his chin and relaxed his shoulders.

“Look, don’t make me out to be the bad guy here, Joe. I’ll call you the minute I know something. Besides, Anchorage could be a wild goose chase.”

“It’s the only lead we got, and you know it.” Joe kept his voice steady and his eyes fixed on Fitzgerald. “I ain’t asking for much. If I got a marker left with you, I need it now, Fitz. Payton and I can observe from the next room. The teacher won’t even know we’re there. And who knows? We might even shed light on what she’s tellin’ you, knowing Nikki the way we do.”

The trooper stared at Joe, letting silence do his talking until Payton broke the stalemate.

“Look, Dan, you know how it is. We gotta do something. Nikki is out there…with strangers. Susannah is afraid some outsider off the Internet has taken her only kid. She’s sick with worry.”

He stepped forward, but kept his voice low and in control.

“Please…I promise. You won’t even know I’m there. And Joe is a trained investigator. Doesn’t it make sense to have another good man on this case? It would give Susannah peace of mind, something she hasn’t had much of lately.”

The trooper tightened his jaw and glared through ice blue eyes until his stern expression softened. He let out a sigh and tapped a finger to Payton’s chest.

“I’m gonna hold you to that promise, Archer. You’re gonna follow orders. No questions asked. You hear me?” After Payton nodded, the trooper shook his head and brushed by him, muttering, “Let’s get this traveling circus on the road.”

Anchorage

The late afternoon sun struggled to make an appearance, but lost its battle to a stubborn band of clouds and a steady mist. A dull gray cast its pallor on Payton’s already sullen mood. On the drive in from Talkeetna, dark thoughts about Nikki’s whereabouts crept through his mind on a continuous loop. And the gloomy day exacerbated the feeling that he might have already lost her for good. These days, he didn’t feel like a lucky man. His old cocky self was long gone, replaced by someone he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. And worse, he craved a drink so bad he actually smelled his favorite single malt scotch. The power of suggestion triggered a need he thought he had under control—until today.

When they got to Anchorage, Fitzgerald drove to the Alaska State Troopers’ headquarters on Tudor Road. Once in the building, Fitzgerald vouched for him and Joe Tanu, saying they’d merely observe the interview with the teacher.
The assigned Anchorage trooper, Clive Stalworth, narrowed his eyes and exchanged a questioning look with his Talkeetna counterpart, but didn’t object since the missing person report had been initiated by Fitzgerald.

Stalworth informed them that the schoolteacher, Claire Hanson, had already been picked up and waited for them in Interview Room 5. The Anchorage trooper led them through a corridor to an adjoining room where he and Joe could observe through a two-way mirror. The only light came from next door, the room where the teacher sat alone.

Once he stepped into the room, Payton fixed his eyes on her, unable to look away.

Claire Hanson appeared to be a woman in her forties and was dressed in a floral skirt, white blouse, and navy blue cardigan. She wore glasses and looked unassuming with her straight dark hair pulled back in barrettes. Payton stared at her face, unsure what he had expected. Secretly, he hoped to find a subtle menace behind her eyes. It would have been easier to picture someone the troopers could badger for the truth and incarcerate if they found her guilty.

Yet even though the woman in the interview room didn’t appear to be malicious, something about her gave him a bad feeling that festered in the back of his mind.

“I’ll be conducting the initial interview, but Fitzgerald will remain here with you in case you have questions during the proceedings.” Trooper Stalworth stood by the doorway. “Can I get you any coffee before we get started?”

“No, thank you,” Joe replied, and waved a hand.

Payton shook his head, only half listening. After the trooper closed the door, he kept his eyes on the woman next door until he felt someone by his side. Fitzgerald must have been reading his mind.

“I know this schoolteacher doesn’t exactly fit the mold of a hardened criminal, but don’t worry. If she knows anything or is hidin’ somethin’, Stalworth’ll find it. And if she broke the law, it won’t matter if she’s Mother fuckin’ Teresa.”

“You always were a politically correct kind of guy, Fitz.” Joe Tanu smirked, but his expression grew more solemn as he turned toward his old friend. “We wanna thank you for doing this…regardless how it turns out.”

The last part of what Joe said struck Payton—a hard dose of reality, one he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

In the adjoining room, Stalworth had entered and greeted the woman sitting at the table. Their words were mute until Joe turned up the volume on the speaker system. Payton listened as the trooper started the interview by identifying Claire Hanson for the session recording and confirming details of her background. With each question, the schoolteacher grew more anxious.

“I still don’t understand why you’ve brought me here. What’s this about?” she asked.

Stalworth obliged her with an answer.

“We have witnesses who’ve placed you in Talkeetna early this morning, around one, picking up a young girl named Nikki Archer. We’d like to know where she is.”

The sudden change in direction took the woman by surprise, and it showed. Claire Hanson tried to recover, but it was too late. Her body language had given her away. Stalworth had stretched the truth about the number of witnesses. And he had lied about Claire being spotted. Payton knew that in the interview process, cops sometimes embellished the facts to get results. By law, they could do this. And judging by the look on Claire Hanson’s face, the trooper’s subterfuge had gotten her attention.

“Nikki Archer?” Even though the schoolteacher stalled with a question, Payton suspected the woman knew more than she wanted to admit.

“Don’t bother to deny it. We have witnesses who will put you at River Park with the missing girl. If you cooperate and help us to find her, a judge might go easier on you.”

Panic spread across Claire Hanson’s face. “Missing girl? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That’s not how the District Attorney will see it.” The trooper glared, not giving an inch. “He tends to frown at kidnapping.”

The word kidnapping shocked her.

“Oh, my God, this can’t be happening.” She wrapped her arms across her waist and rocked in short erratic movements. “Do I need a lawyer?”