Eye of the Abductor (14 page)

“Allison?”

“Yeah. He's positive it’s her.”

Brance’s mom mentioned Allison
hadn't been at the Methodist church for several weeks. He assumed she'd been
working Sundays at the mall. He didn’t have to guess what little boy stayed in
the nursery under Allison’s supervision.

Dreyer came up. “I got your
message.”

Brance looked up at the other
detective. “Ride with me.” He shifted his gaze to Randy. “See you round.”

Randy nodded and left.

Once in the car, Dreyer glanced at
him. “So where are we going?”

“Starbucks. I didn’t want to
include Randy in my latest discovery.”

“Why’s that?”

“He talks too much. I’ve concluded
that it could be someone who works for the security company.”

“You sure?”

“Think about it, John. Someone
there has the ability and opportunity to stop the signal while an accomplice
breaks into the pharmacy.”

Brance explained his theory and
told about his conversation with Mr. Lanier at Safety First.

“That’s good. You might be onto
something.”

“Like the person who can name
everyone involved.” Brance couldn’t hold back a grin, finally feeling like he
was getting somewhere on the case.

The rich aroma of coffee filled
the shop, making Brance's stomach growl. Once seated, they talked more about
the case and discussed several scenarios.

Dreyer glanced at his watch. “I
have to run by the mall before I go home. My anniversary’s tonight.”

“Nothing like waiting until the
last minute.”

“I know, but at least I
remembered.”

“How many years?” Brance asked.

“Twelve.”

“You like being married?”

“Love it. I wouldn’t trade my life
with anyone. Why?”

“I met someone, but I doubt it’ll
go anywhere.”

“Who is she?”

"A lady who lives in my
building, but I pissed her off. She won't even speak to me now.”

An hour later, Brance left the
coffee shop and dropped Dreyer off at his car. He stopped by his mother’s house
again. This time she was home. He knocked.

His mom opened the door. “Brance.
I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Mom, you’ve been crying? What’s
wrong?”

“I’ve been at Gramie’s house. You
know how easily I cry. I’m going to miss her when she’s gone. You really need
to go see her before it’s too late.”

“I'll try to visit her this
week."

“Come in.” She walked back to the
kitchen. “Can I fix you anything?”

“No, thanks. Mind if I sit.”

“Is there something troubling
you?” she asked.

He inhaled a deep breath while
debating whether or not to bring up the issue about his dad. Though his dad
wasn’t home, the smell of his pipe tobacco lingered in the air. “Yeah, one thing
in particular I wanted to talk about.”

“Allison?”

He shrugged. “No, it’s about Dad.”

“What about him?”

“Is Mike Stone really my father?”

Her face paled. “His name is on
your birth certificate. Are you asking me if I had an affair? Hopefully, you
know me better. I’ve never been unfaithful to your father. Never.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I don’t
look like him, but Colby and Dillon do. Hell, I don’t even look like you except
for my eyes. And another thing to consider is Dad doesn’t treat me the same as he
does them. Sometimes, I think he hates me.”

“That’s not true. He loves you.
Being the middle child is always an awkward position in a family.”

Though he suspected it went deeper
than that, he wouldn’t argue. She’d never tell him.

“I guess you’re right. I’m
overreacting.”

There were other ways of finding
out the truth.

It wouldn’t be difficult to get a
DNA sample from his father. Then it’d be just a matter of time and money to
find out for sure. His mother would hate him for it, but he had to know.

***

Allison hadn’t concentrated at
work all day. The shift supervisor even caught her about to make a three hundred
dollar error that would’ve come out of her check.

Brance had made her angry enough
to scream. The man wasn’t any better than Rob. Sleeping with that woman and
then expecting her to jump at his pathetic apology. She hadn’t heard another
man in Brance's apartment only a woman. Of course, she’d keyed in on the
female’s voice. Maybe there had been someone with them.

She turned from the cash register as
a woman walked by with a child. He reminded her of Nathan. Her thoughts shifted
to Plan B. After carefully examining her situation, she decided she was doing
the right thing.

Allison had to think smart and
plan carefully. Drugging Nathan with cough syrup to keep him quiet might be
necessary. The idea made her cringe, but a screaming child would draw attention
or could cause her to wreck.

After reviewing her plan, the
tightness in her muscles eased. Rather than sit back and watch him being raised
to be a cop by the Wilsons, she'd gamble with the odds. If Allison couldn’t
have him, she might as well be in prison.

On the far end of the glass
counter, a well-dressed Latino man moved along the enclosed glass toward her.

The tension in her muscles
returned, tightening them to the point of pain. He moved closer, keeping his
eyes on the merchandise.

She decided to face him. “Can I
help you?”

His gaze met hers. “Escobar wants
to talk. You can reach him at this number.” He slid the card across the glass.
“Ugly things happen to people who piss him off.”

Her breath stopped for a moment.
Allison swallowed her fear and accepted the card. She stared at it before
glancing up. The man had vanished.

Hopefully, by the time Escobar decided
to make good on his threat, she’d be on the road with Nathan. Allison Paige
Davenport wouldn’t exist anymore. It’d be Laura Marsh and her son, Devin. The
problem that rattled her brain and came up empty was how to get Devin a birth
certificate.

That night at the church nursery,
Bill dropped Nathan off and didn’t even notice Allison at the back of the room.
She played and read to the other children before approaching her son. Church
still had thirty minutes left. She strolled over to him.

“Hi, Nathan.”

“Miss Allison,” he said with delight.
His excited shrill made her smile.

“Would you like me to read you a
story?”

He glanced at the cop cars, then
back at her and nodded. She escorted him to a large rocking chair where she sat
down and lifted him into her lap. He leaned against her, letting his body go
limp, and she thought she'd cry.

“
Tyrone the Terrible
,” she
read the title aloud.

“I like dinosaurs.”

Now she knew what Santa would
bring him. A dinosaur set.

“I do too.” She read the story
about the horrible T-Rex that bullied Boland and his friends. Too bad she
couldn’t tell him his dad had been a T-Rex.

After the story, he stood and
hugged her neck. The simple contact overwhelmed her with love. He glanced
toward the door, and shouted, “Memaw! Miss Allison read me a dinosaur story!”

Sitting in the high back rocker,
Allison stiffened like a corpse with rigor mortis. She didn’t dare turn around.
Moisture formed on her palms, and her heart seemingly stopped for a moment.

“That’s nice. Hurry. Papaw is
waiting in the car.”

“Bye, Nathan,” Mona said.

Though Dorothy was gone, Allison
had a difficult time rising from the chair. That had been close. Too close.
She’d been so busy reading, she’d forgotten the time. She couldn’t be so
careless again. Thank God the chair had been facing away from the door, or the
tiger lady would've seen her.

Allison grabbed her purse from
under a cabinet and left the nursery. Still, the close call had her rattled.

She had parked on the far side of
the church not wanting anyone to become familiar with her car. As she walked
through the parking lot, a strong breeze blew dead leaves dancing over the
pavement. The air smelled like rain.

She climbed in her car, locked the
door, and slipped the key in the ignition, then noticed something had been
written on her windshield. She got out and walked around to the front of her
car.

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

Cop Killer.

Chapter Eight

“We’re not the only ones who know Paige Wilson’s back in
town," he said.

“Who else knows?”

“Randy Forrest used to be a traffic cop for Memphis. Works for
Bartlett now. No telling how many people he’s mentioned it to besides me. I’m
sure Escobar knows.”

“If she feels too cornered, she might split.”

"She won’t leave her kid."

“You never know what a female will do. They get all emotional and
that makes them unpredictable as hell. Keep an eye on her.”

***

Allison forced herself to remain calm.

She used one of her gloves to rub the words off her windshield.
This prank was too childish for Escobar. Besides, he'd already sent his calling
card. Escobar's next warning might not be as pleasant. He’d want to leave her
shaken. But there’d be no way she could give him what he wanted. Rob’s brutal
murder behind prison walls showed these men played hardball.

No, this was probably the work of a cop. She had no choice but to
take Nathan and run.

At her apartment, she dialed Jill’s number.

“Hello.”

“Jill, it’s Allison.”

“I’m a little busy right now.”

A man whispered in the background, and Jill giggled.

“I’m sorry, but several things happened tonight. I’ll go insane
if I can’t tell someone.”

“Stop it,” Jill told the man. “Like what?”

“Cop Killer was written on my windshield.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly. But there's more.”

“What else?”

“Escobar left his calling card.”

“Holy shit.”

Monday, she went to a body shop and had
her trunk latch fixed. Afterwards, she purchased a booster seat for Nathan at a
Goodwill store.

At the dollar store, she bought a small ice chest to keep food
and drinks in. The fewer stops made the better since most stores had cameras.

There’d be an Amber-alert out. It’d only take one person to
identify her.

***

Monday evening, Brance drove to his parents’ house with a stack
of books, he'd borrowed from his mom. When he walked in, his mother and father
along with his brothers and their families sat at the dining room table halfway
through dinner. The succulent aroma of seasoned beef made his stomach growl.
The fact that no one had invited him disturbed him more than he wanted to
admit.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt.” Then he shifted his gaze to his
mother. “I set the books you loaned me on the desk.”

“Did you read them?"

"I actually enjoyed the series. Thanks."

"Sit down. I’ll fix you a plate,” she offered. Guilt
lingered on her face or perhaps dread. Maybe she feared he’d bring up what
they’d talked about before.

“I’ve eaten,” he lied.

“At least eat a piece of pie,” Colby said.

"No thanks." He’d even spoken with her that morning,
and she didn’t mention the dinner. Okay, he was acting like a disappointed kid.
But damn it, it bothered the hell out of him.

Colby buttered another roll. I saw you on the news when they
reported on those pharmacy burglaries.”

“Hope they showed my good side.” Not wanting to elaborate on the
Safety First Security Company’s possible involvement, he looked at his dad.
“You ever check with anyone about those drugs being sold?”

“Mentioned it to Narcotics, but nothing turned up.”

“Could be shipping or hauling the drugs out of state,” Dillon
said.

“Could be. The film in the camera is always scrambled or either
stripped clean, so we have no surveillance tape. The security company can't
explain it.”

“When do they hit?” his dad asked.

“Early morning. Why?”

“Ask yourself why that seems to be their window of opportunity.”

Brance knew if it were a Safety First employee, it'd be during
their shift. But what if it wasn't anyone at that company. He gave his dad's
question more thought. “Fewer people out and about. Still dark enough so
they're hard to spot. Those hours go with their schedules. So it’s safe to
assume these people work other jobs.”

His father smiled. “That’s a start.”

The simple smile from his dad caused a warming sensation to
spiral deep into Brance’s chest. A feeling he had on rare occasions when Mike
Stone showed him the slightest approval.

“How’s it coming with Allison?” his mom asked.

“Who’s she?” Colby asked.

“His neighbor. A nice girl. And she sings in our church choir.
She hasn't been attending lately.”

"She's working on Sunday mornings."

“This one sounds like a keeper,” Carla said.

“Is Uncle Brance gonna get married?” Bridget asked.

“No, sweetpea. I’m not.” He glanced at his mother. “I took her to
dinner, and things just didn’t click between us.”