LIES OF THE PHOENIX (A Lieutenant Cassidy Mystery Book 1) (21 page)

Bazarov imagined that Jordan was congratulating himself on completing his deal as he walked from his car to his apartment. He wished he could be there to see Jordan’s face when he arrived at the flat and realized that his secret lair had been discovered. It would certainly knock his ego down a few pegs.

Ten minutes after the GPS icon came to a stand still on the map near the basement apartment, it took off again at a high rate of speed. It followed an erratic course through the streets of Chicago for a long period of time. It finally stopped on a side street miles away from the basement flat. It stayed there the rest of the night.

Bazarov did a casual drive-by of Jordan’s vehicle around 2:00 a.m. and saw him dozing in the front seat. His head was resting against the window. He thought how easy it would be to put an end to it all right there and go back to L.A., but that would have to wait until later. He still needed to collect the data drive to fulfill his contract. He left Jordan undisturbed and went back to his comfortable hotel room for a few hours of sleep.

Nothing more would happen until morning.

H
E PARKED OUT
of sight down the street from the Abbot house. He watched as Ruth Abbot herded her two kids down the front steps and into the backseat of her SUV parked in the driveway. She buckled them into their respective car seats and pulled out of the driveway. He followed along at a safe distance making sure that Ruth did not notice she was being followed. He knew her destination.

She drove the route she always did and pulled into the driveway of the woman who provided childcare for her children. Ruth climbed out of her vehicle and opened the rear door to release Brandon and Kaye from their temporary imprisonment. The children were exuberant at their liberation. Brandon jumped from the car and raced to the front door. Ruth lifted Kaye into her arms and swung the duffle bag that was on the floor over her shoulder. The bag was stuffed with changes of clothes and a few favorite toys and books for both children. She left her purse and her work portfolio in the front seat of the unlocked car as she walked up to the front door. The door of the home swung open and a smiling woman waved to Ruth. The woman moved aside as Brandon ran past her into the house.

He had watched this whole scenario a number of times before. He knew Ruth would step inside the house for a few minutes, perhaps to give a few last minute instructions to the sitter or to say final goodbyes to the children. It didn’t matter. It allowed him the time that he needed.

Ruth disappeared behind the closed door as she always did. When the door shut behind her, he left his car and walked briskly to her SUV in the driveway. He opened the driver’s side door and retrieved her cell phone from an outside pocket of her purse. He closed the vehicle door as quietly as possible and returned to his own vehicle down the street. He watched discretely as Ruth returned to her SUV and drove away.

Jordan was ready to implement the second part of his plan.

* * * * *

Bazarov hoisted his mass from the bed and brewed a morning cup of coffee in the dinky hotel coffee maker in his room. It tasted like dishwater. He took comfort in the fact that he would be back in Los Angeles soon and would be enjoying his own home brewed expresso.

He showered, dressed, and then packed his few travel items. He carried only necessities including his own towel and washcloth. He even carried a king sized flat sheet that served as a bed cover and blanket so as not to disturb the bed linens. He wanted to leave nothing behind that could be traced back to him. His only exception to his nothing-but-necessities rule was his precious tooled leather vodka case. It was hand made in Russia and had belonged to his grandfather. It was the one personal item that he allowed himself.

He always paid for his room in cash and never stayed anywhere more than one night. He avoided the lobby whenever possible. It was often necessary to enter through the lobby since exits were locked from the outside for security reasons, but leaving was a different story. It was his routine to slip out through a utility exit early in the morning before the cleaning staff made their first rounds.

As he sipped another cup of what passed for coffee he periodically checked the GPS display for Jordan’s car. It had been stationary at the location where Bazarov had found him dozing in the car, but now the icon was moving. He watched intently. The icon snaked its way through the grid of city streets and headed to the suburbs. He knew Jordan was in the vicinity of Ruth Abbot’s house, but he didn’t know why. The icon stopped for a few minutes and then took off again heading back to town towards Ben Taggert’s apartment.

Good! Time to
go, he said to himself.
Jordan is ready to make contact with his wife
. He gulped down the last of his coffee, wiped his finger prints from the coffee maker, and tore his paper coffee cup into pieces. He walked to the bathroom and flushed the pieces down the toilet. He picked up his valise, tossed his carefully cleaned card key on the dresser and shut the door with his handkerchief.

Bazarov needed to make sure that Ben Taggert stayed out of Jordan’s way while Jordan tried to make contact with Sarah Lawrence. He could not rely on Jordan’s pathetic skills to separate Ben from Sarah. Jordan arguably had some intellectual acumen, but he was no match for Ben in a one-on-one confrontation. No, it was necessary to assist the situation and orchestrate an opportunity for Jordan to come together with Sarah without the risk of interference from Taggert.

He had seen Jordan amateurishly spying on Taggert’s apartment, probably trying to figure out how to gain access to Sarah. Jordan would know that Ben frequently left Sarah alone for a while in the morning to pick-up breakfast. That would be when Jordan would make his move.

Bazarov left the hotel through a back alley and walked to a bus stop. His destination was a few blocks away. He needed to pick up a replacement vehicle he had planted in the city when he had first arrived.

S
ARAH WAS EXCITED
when they had found the property tax document yesterday at the townhouse. She took Ben’s advice and last evening did an on-line search of the Wisconsin property records. After considerable hunting she located the county records for the Wisconsin property identified in the tax bill. The records confirmed that her deceased mother was listed as the property owner. She printed out the pages before going to bed and now she planned to study them for any detail that might prove helpful. She sat at the table with a cup of coffee and spread the pages out side-by-side.

As she read through the documents certain parts of the property description began to stand out. It was in a rural area of southern Wisconsin, just a couple of hours outside Chicago. It had been transferred into her mother’s maiden name the week after she and Jordan had married. The prior owner had owned the property for twenty years and was not a known relative or family friend as far as Sarah could discern.

There was no mortgage lien listed on the property, it was a cash deal. Her jaw clenched as she remembered talking with Jordan about buying a home in the suburbs and discussing how they would have to be frugal and save every extra penny for a down payment. There was nothing in the documents to connect Jordan to the property, but Sarah knew Jordan was behind the property transfer.

She read through the property description. There was house, a couple of out-buildings, a pond, and about twenty acres of land. Access was via a private road maintained by the property owner.
Very private, very out of the way. Just the type of place Jordan would want to work on his scheme or use as hideout,
she thought.

Ben emerged from the bedroom freshly showered and dressed. She poured him some coffee and carried it to the table motioning for him to sit down.

“We need to go to Wisconsin to check out this property. The prior owners aren’t relatives, or even friends of my mother. I’m sure Jordan bought this property after we were married and put it in my mother’s name. This has to be where he plotted everything. He could even be hiding there!”

Ben sat across from her, took a sip from his steaming cup, and then said, “That’s why we should leave it to the police to investigate. Cassidy can have the Wisconsin State Police check it out. If Jordan is hiding there, which I doubt, they can make the arrest.”

“Why wouldn’t he go there to hide?”

“My bet would be that he is still here in Chicago. I think his plan would be to complete his deal and then get out of the country as soon as possible. He’ll need an international airport for that,” Ben said. “He’d have to have a real good reason to leave Chicago.”

“But he doesn’t know anyone is looking for him except for his Los Angeles crime buddies. He could stay at the cottage until they got tired of looking for him and then go where ever he wanted to go.”

Ben shook his head, “No, the crime syndicate will never stop looking for him. Jordan knows that. He will move quickly, before his opponents have time to develop a strategy and react. The longer he stays in an area, the longer his enemies have to find him.”

“What if he has the stolen account data hidden at the Wisconsin property?”

“I guess that’s a possibility, but I don’t think he would want that data so far away and out of his control. If he is as smart as you say he is, he would keep that data within his reach. Close, but not with him.”

Sarah could see Ben’s police mode was kicking in. He wasn’t going to agree to a road trip to Wisconsin. Still, she wanted to go to the cottage; there might be something important there. Ben’s own argument that Jordan was probably still in Chicago suggested it would be safe. Jordan was a con artist and a thief, not a killer she reasoned to herself. He would not do anything to harm her.

She knew Ben was not going to budge. She decided to give things a rest and try again later. “Alright for now, but we are going to discuss this again.” she said.

“Good. Now, how about I go out and bring back some breakfast for us,” he said in a conciliatory tone. He was hoping to get her mind off any ill-advised Wisconsin excursion. “What would you like?”

“I don’t care. Surprise me,” she said with a defeated quality to her voice. “I’ll start some fresh coffee while you’re gone.”

“I know just the thing to brighten your day. Be back in a little bit. We’ll call Cassidy when I get back. That will make you feel better. You can tell him all about that property information you found.” Ben headed to the door.

Sarah went to the kitchen and began measuring out the coffee for a fresh pot, but all the while trying to come up with a convincing argument for a trip to Wisconsin.

Ben rode the elevator to the lobby and greeted the security guard and the doorman with a wave. He was on a quest for Belgian waffles topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream. A few days before, he had stopped for coffee at a small café a block away from the apartment. He had seen the waffles being served to two lucky customers. He was sure Sarah would love them.

Out on the sidewalk the morning was warm. The sun managed to find its way between the buildings and bathe the street in sunshine. There was a small convenience mart along the way to the café and his mind was occupied making a list of a few more breakfast items he wanted to pick up on his way back.

He stepped off the curb to cross a small alley still engrossed in making his shopping list. Something caught him around the neck and pulled him into the alley. As he stumbled backwards he realized he was in a choke hold. He fought violently to break the powerful grip of his assailant, but lights began to flash before his eyes and he felt himself drifting into unconsciousness.

His body slumped to the ground. His attacker quickly dragged him out of view from the street and into the shadows of the alley. A piece of duct tape was slapped over his mouth and his arms and legs were secured with more tape. Then in one motion the attacker hoisted Ben’s limp body overhead and tossed him into a nearby open dumpster.

The assailant quietly closed the lid of the dumpster and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. He sent a text message and then nonchalantly walked out of the alley to the street.

“That should hold him for a while,” mumbled Bazarov under his breath. A short delay was all that was needed. He had learned early in his criminal career that killing a police officer, or even a former police officer, was best avoided. It drew unnecessary attention and created an unstoppable backlash from the police.

S
ARAH HAD BEEN
waiting over an hour for Ben to return with breakfast. She knew he could take care of himself, but she was starting to feel uneasy. So many bad things had happened lately. She called his cell phone. After several rings her call went into his voicemail.

She sat there looking at the phone in her hand trying to decide what to do next when a text message flashed on her screen from an unknown contact: 
Sorry. Phone dead. Borrowed this one from store clerk. Business agent called, issue with publisher. Have to take care of it right away. Will be tied up for a while. Call you later when I can find a phone.—Ben.

That was strange. Ben didn’t like to text. He was old school and liked to talk to people directly.
Maybe he didn’t want to tie up the store clerk’s phone with a call,
she thought. At least she knew he was alright.

She decided to shower and dress hoping Ben would call by the time she finished. She took her phone into the bathroom with her just in case he did, but there were no calls. Resigned to a morning by herself, she decided to again look over the Wisconsin property pages she had printed out. She sat down at the table, placed her cell phone off to the side, and began sorting through the pages.

Another text flashed onto her phone screen. This time it was from Ruth Abbot, her best friend:
Can you meet me at Sholtzen’s Deli ASAP? Big time problems between Eric and me. Need your help. Please?

This had to be something really serious. She considered Ruth and Eric to be the perfect couple. Ruth never complained about Eric. The text worried her.

She immediately called Ruth’s cell phone. There was no answer.
Maybe she’s with a client and can’t talk,
Sarah thought. She knew the deli that Ruth mentioned and sent her a text in response:
Of course! Be there in 15 minutes, O.K.?

Sarah’s screen lit up again:
Great! You’re the best.

She cleaned up the papers on the table and then tried to figure out what to do about Ben. There was no question that she would go to meet Ruth, but Ben would not be happy about it. He wasn’t here and she didn’t know when he would be back. With his phone dead, she had no way to contact him.
I have to meet Ruth and he will just have to deal with it when he finds out
, she thought.

She tried his phone one more time and it went into voicemail.
Maybe he’ll find a cell charger someplace,
she thought. She left a message telling him the situation. At the end of the message she added the name of the deli where she was meeting Ruth, but said she thought she would be back to the apartment before he returned. She had no doubt that he would call her as soon as he could. She hoped the downtown proximity of the deli to the apartment would ease any concerns he may have about her going out alone.

Sarah placed her phone into her purse and left to meet Ruth. She took the elevator to the lobby still feeling guilty about not being able to tell Ben she was going out. To placate her conscious she decided to leave a message with the doorman. If he didn’t get her voicemail at least he would know where she went.

“Edmond, I have to go out for a little while. When Mr. Taggert comes in, would you tell him I have gone to meet my friend, Ruth, at Sholtzen’s Deli?”

Edmond nodded, “Sure Ms. Lawrence. Be happy to.”

Sarah waved goodbye and went out on the street. The deli was just a few blocks away, but she felt odd on the street by herself. She hadn’t been alone outside the apartment since the day of the elevator attack at her office. Now she found herself looking over her shoulder.

She hurried down the street alert to everyone and everything that moved. She saw nothing suspicious. She turned the last corner and was relieved to see the deli sign a few doors away from her. She entered and looked around for Ruth, but didn’t find her.
I must have arrived first,
she decided.

Sarah sat at a booth about halfway back in the deli. She tried to find a seat that would provide a little privacy. If Ruth wanted to discuss a problem with Eric there was no reason to share it with everyone else in the deli. She positioned herself facing the front entrance and waited for Ruth to arrive. A server approached and asked if she would like to order. Sarah remembered she hadn’t eaten breakfast and ordered coffee with a Danish pastry.

She was nervous about discussing marital problems with Ruth, but if that was what Ruth needed, she would be there for her. She fished her phone from her purse and checked for any new texts from Ruth or Ben. There was none. Her coffee and pastry arrived. She took a quick bite of the sweet roll keeping her eyes fixed on the front entrance.

As she took a sip of her coffee, an all too familiar voice came from behind her. “Hello, Sarah.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder and then Jordan’s face appeared in front of her. He slipped into the seat across the table from her sporting his award winning smile. His appearance startled her, but she was surprised that she felt nothing else. His image was like the specter of a distant memory devoid of emotion and feeling.

It took a few seconds for her to gather her wits. When she did, she wanted to scream a torrent of expletives in his direction and yell for the police to come and arrest him as she blocked his retreat. She fought to control her rising anger, and then she felt a calculating calm take over. She had the advantage. They were in a public place. He did not know that she was aware of his Los Angeles identity, or that she knew about his theft of account data and plans to sell it.
To him, I am still his devoted wife, pining away for an explanation as to why he disappeared without a trace!

She was safe and he wanted something from her. She wanted to know what that was. It was her turn to tell a few lies.

She composed herself and forced an anguished expression on her face. “Jordan! I’ve been so worried! Why haven’t you contacted me? Are you alright?”

It was the reaction he wanted and expected from her.
This should be easy,
he thought. He reached out, took her hands in his, and rallied his most engaging smile. “Sarah. I’m sorry. I can explain everything, but you need to trust me.”

A chill ran down her spine. She realized how badly she had been taken in by his smooth and polished demeanor. Now it was as if she was watching an actor on the stage and he was reciting his well-rehearsed lines.

“How did you know I would be here?” she said with a calculated measure of surprise and emotion in her voice. “I’m supposed to be meeting Ruth.”

“Don’t worry, Ruth is fine. And, no, she is not coming here,” he said without explaining.

Sarah was actually relieved to hear that Ruth wasn’t coming. It meant that somehow Jordan had sent the text and that everything was alright between Ruth and Eric. It also meant that Jordan had manipulated her again and she hated him for it.

She suppressed her ire and pleaded as convincingly as she could, “Please Jordan, tell me what is going on.”

“I will, but we have to be careful. We can’t talk here. It’s dangerous. There are some bad people after me.”

“Bad people? What do you mean?” She knew exactly what he meant.

He squeezed her hand in his, “Trust me. I love you. I will tell you everything, but not here.”

Trust me? I love you?
, she thought.
She was amazed how easily the lies rolled off his tongue, but she played along. “You need to come home. We’ll go to the police. They can protect you.”

“No, these are professional criminals,” Jordan countered. “They have connections everywhere, even within the police department. They control everything with payoffs, and threats from hired killers. It’s not safe. I just need a little time to put things right, then we can be together again.” He grasped her by the arm and pulled her to her feet urging her towards the door of the deli. “We need to talk, but not here.”

“But where are we going?” Her alarms were going off, but she wanted to find out what he wanted. Going along with him was the only way that would happen. She wasn’t afraid. His weapons of choice were manipulation and deceit. He wouldn’t resort to violence unless his life was threatened and she wouldn’t give him any reason to feel that way. But she needed to find out where they were going and then tell someone.

Jordan didn’t answer. He pushed her toward the exit saying, “Hurry. We need to get away from here as soon as possible. They could be following us.”

They exited onto sidewalk. He ushered her along at a brisk pace down the street and then around a corner to a parking garage. In the garage he went directly to a nondescript vehicle that looked like it had seen better days. He opened the door and helped her in. Within a minute they were on the road.