Profile of Terror (9 page)

Gabe got out the surveillance DVD that the Hoosier Sports Bar and Grill owner had given him and slipped it in his computer.  He fast-forwarded through hours of Friday's surveillance camera recording until he reached the segment showing people leaving the bar, just prior to closing.  Finally he saw Abby as she headed toward her car, which was the only one parked in front.  She got into her car and drove away without incident.

This bar was the last place that Abby was seen.  His gut told him he was missing something.  Gabe ran his fingers through his hair and started the recording from the beginning, fast-forwarded until he reached ten o'clock, then hit pause.  From that point, he moved frame-to-frame and closely examined each person who left the bar.  He saw nothing unusual until one in the morning, when two men walked from the bar to their white van, parked in the lot.  The men sat in the van for a good thirty minutes until they drove away.

Maybe it was the white van that made Gabe suspicious.  He knew from experience that windowless white vans were often involved in crimes, whether they were driven by child molesters, kidnappers, or murderers.  And there were so many white vans out there, it was a nightmare for law enforcement to track them. 

Searching for a mysterious white van had sent the investigators of the 2002 sniper attacks in the Washington, D.C, area in a tail spin, wasting valuable hours searching for the wrong vehicle, until John Allen Muhammad and Lee Boyd Malvo were arrested, driving a blue 1990 Chevrolet Caprice.  Hell, Carly told him that even Ted Bundy used a white van when he abducted and murdered his last victim, Kimberly Leach. 

Gabe backed up the recording and watched the two men leave the bar, walk across the parking lot, and enter the white van one more time.  What in the hell were they doing sitting in the van for thirty additional minutes?  If they were waiting for someone to leave the bar after them, why didn't they wait until closing?

<><><> 

In the kitchen, Gabe pulled out some containers of food.  "Kaitlyn, are you hungry?"

"Starved.  No breakfast."

"How about a ham or turkey sandwich with some chips?"

"Sounds great.  Where is your bathroom?  I'd like to wash my hands."

"It's the second room down the hallway."  Gabe pulled out sandwich ingredients from the refrigerator.  Hearing his office phone ring from the other room, Gabe raced toward it, hit his knee on the coffee table, and sent Kaitlyn's purse airborne.  Its contents glided across the floor. 

"Oh, shit!"  He rubbed his knee, cursing the coffee table, along with his office phone, which had stopped ringing.  If there was one thing that made him uncomfortable, it was a woman's purse.  This uneasiness probably stemmed from the time he was caught searching his mom's purse for a piece of gum.  He'd gotten a tongue-lashing from that event, along with ten minutes in the timeout corner.  His mom had emphasized that there might be highly personal items in a woman's purse that would embarrass the heck out of him, along with the owner of the purse.  That was enough to make him steer clear — until now.

Rushing to the purse, he located a wallet and lipstick which he slipped back into the purse. 

"Is doing an inventory of my purse part of your investigative plan to find my sister?" 

He looked up to see Kaitlyn, who wore an unmistakably annoyed expression on her face, standing with her arms crossed.  Her foot tapped on the floor, much like his mother's had years ago.

Gabe held up his hands in defense.  "Hey, this isn't how it looks.  I tripped over the coffee table on the way to my office to answer the phone."

Resting down on the sofa, her arms still crossed, with just the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.  "Is that the story you're going with?"

Gabe plucked an odd-looking pink metal silhouette of a dog from the floor.  "What's this?"

"That's my Attack Dog," she replied, as he handed it to her.  "You put two fingers through the Attack Dog eye holes and the sharp tips of his ears can be used to defend yourself against an attacker, like this."  Kaitlyn demonstrated jabbing an invisible attacker with the device.

He picked up another pink object.  "Is this what I think it is?"

"Ah, the Blaster stun gun, a girl's best friend.  Actually, it's one of my favorites.  Notice it's dual-purpose, with the built-in rechargeable flashlight," Kaitlyn began.  "The Blaster may look pink and girlish, but that baby delivers a powerful punch of 19 million volts.  Just firing it into the air should be enough to stop any attacker with half a brain.  It makes a scary electrical popping sound as the blinding electric current pulsates between the test prongs.  One touch and the Blaster is guaranteed to bring a would-be assailant to his knees. Very cool."

Gabe shook his head and grinned. "I don't know whether to think you're a modern-day female avenger or a sales rep for self-defense weapons."

"Neither.  I just happened to be a woman who is trained to defend herself."

Handing the purse to her, Gabe sat on the coffee table and watched Kaitlyn rummage through it.  She was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women he'd ever laid eyes on,
and
one of the most armed. 

Finding what she was looking for, Kaitlyn held up a pink lipstick case.  What was it with this girl and the color pink?  "Are you thinking I'm about to touch up my lipstick?"

"Not sure."

Opening the case, she whipped out a small pink canister of pepper spray.

"You're a regular 007," Gabe said as he admired the resourceful woman.

"Frankie says it can make an attacker cry like a baby so you can kick him where it hurts and run like hell."

"Did you say Frankie?"

"Yes."

"Frankie Douglas?"

"She goes by her married name now.  Frankie Douglas-Hansen."

"Small world.  I know Frankie.  She's one of my best friends.  How do you know her?"

"Frankie teaches my self-defense class, plus she's my role model and hero."

He realized there was only one thing missing from her arsenal.  "Where's your handgun, Kaitlyn?"

"Oh, it's in the glove box in my car. Want to see it?  Before you ask, I do have a concealed weapon permit.”

"Don't tell me.  Let me guess.  Frankie trained you to shoot it."

"Yes."  She headed for the kitchen.  Opening the mayonnaise jar, she laid out four slices of bread, then coated each with the creamy sauce."

Gabe joined her and pulled out two glasses and liter of Coke. Gazing at Kaitlyn, he wondered why she felt she had to have a self-defense collection.  "May I ask you a personal question?"

She eyed him skeptically.  "I think so."

"What are you so afraid of?" 

"Nothing now."

"What were you afraid of
before
Frankie's training, and purchase of your self-defense collection?"

Kaitlyn squeezed her eyes closed for a second, as if a painful memory had crossed her mind.  "I took a night class my last semester at Purdue.  It was a long walk back to my apartment, so I always cut through an alley that ran between a campus bar and a pizza place.  One night after class, I was walking through the alley and this guy jumped out at me from behind a dumpster and grabbed me.  He clamped his hand over my mouth so I couldn't scream, and kicked my legs from under me so I fell flat on my back.  I was so terrified that I froze.  He yanked my panties down.  He was unzipping his jeans, when my brain restarted, and I kicked him between the legs.  As he howled with pain, I kicked him until I was sure he couldn't chase me when I ran."

"I'm glad you escaped unharmed."

"After that, I realized I didn't like feeling helpless, with no control over what happened to me.  That's when I enrolled in Frankie's class. She helped me to believe in myself, and to always consider my options when threatened."

A mixture of interest and respect flowed through Gabe as he gazed at her.  Some women would have been traumatized for life if they'd had an experience like Kaitlyn had.  Her resilience and determination attracted him as no woman ever had.

<><><> 

As she prepared to leave Gabe's office, Kaitlyn glanced back at him.  He was so engrossed with whatever he'd discovered on his computer that she had to clear her throat to get his attention.  Finally, he looked up and shot her a seductive smile, and her hormones did an unwanted happy dance.

"I'm going to the Campus Printing in West Lafayette to get copies of Abby's missing flyers.  I'll be back tomorrow morning."

Going down the stairs, Kaitlyn felt a little ball of need that burst to life in the pit of her stomach that could only mean one thing — she was physically attracted to Gabriel Chase, Private Investigator.  Seriously?  She gave herself a little shake.  No way.  She could
not
be attracted to this man.  Sure, the man was hotter than hot, and had a body designed purely to give a woman hours and hours of female pleasure.  But if he dated her sister, like Dr. Ramsey told her, he must be operating on less than half his brain power, and have no sexual scruples.  Why?  Because that was Abby's kind of man — eye candy on her arm on campus, no pressure from him for a real relationship, and like her, only in it for the sex.

Gabriel Chase was an amazing specimen of masculinity, who could undoubtedly get any woman he wanted.  She wanted a man who only had eyes for her.  And if he were the least bit attracted to her, it was probably for a one-night-stand.  And if there was one thing Kaitlyn didn't want, it was a fling.  She wanted to settle down with a man who was both a lover and a best friend — someone who was in it for the long haul.  She wanted happily ever after.

Compared to her sister, Kaitlyn was a Girl Scout with a badge in chastity.  Okay, she wasn't completely chaste, thanks to Mitch Bargo, her no-good ex-fiancé, who'd turned her world upside down.  And not in a good way.  Just the thought of Mitch sent her stomach swirling and her teeth gritting.

Kaitlyn got into her car, plopping down in the driver's seat, slamming the door, and then locking it.  As she turned the ignition on, a thought sizzled through her brain.  Knowing Abby as well as she did, she was convinced that Abby dumped Gabe.  As if she enjoyed it, her sister always had to be the one who broke up the non-relationship.  Abby didn't have relationships.  She hated the thought of being with any man more than a couple of weeks.  So if Dr. Ramsey was correct and Abby dated Gabe for a month, it was highly unusual.  For Abby, boredom always set in, and it was time to say good-bye.  Abby had a way of breaking up with a man that didn't include sensitivity or empathy.  The harder they took the break-up, the more she enjoyed it.

Her mind raced with all the possibilities, and one of them went on repeat.  She couldn't get rid of the thought, fear, or whatever it was.  What if Abby used her typical lack of finesse to break up with Gabe and she angered him so much that he made her disappear?  If a private investigator specialized in finding people, he could be a master in knowing how to make people vanish.  Right?

Chapter Four
          
 

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Kaitlyn turned on her bedside lamp and pulled out Abby's journal.  The first ten pages were about Abby's classes and about a professor named Ted Foster who gave Abby the creeps. 

Professor Foster asked me to dinner again today. He waited until all the other students left the classroom before he handed me my test.  He'd given me an
"
A.
"
  But did I really earn it?  He appraised my breasts as he moved closer, until he was almost touching me.
"
I've given you another
"
A,
"
Abby.  Won't you reward me by having dinner with me tonight?
"

I told him I had plans and raced out of there like my butt was on fire. Last Tuesday evening, just before dark, I saw him walk past my apartment. He stood under a street light for a while, and then walked down the alley that leads to the parking lot in back.  God, he freaks me out.  Every time he gets near me, a pervert alert goes off inside my brain.  I'd like nothing better than to plant a hard kick to his groin.  Perhaps I will someday.  Something to look forward to.

When was the last time this creep saw Abby?  Did he hurt her because she rejected his advances one time too many?

She kept reading as she reached the middle of the journal.  Abby wrote about the man Kaitlyn referred to as their ex-father.

I tried to find Daddy through the Internet tonight, and found many men named Robert Elliott Reece, but none of them was Daddy.  I won't stop looking until I find him.  I need him.

I wish I could wash the day he left out of my mind.  From my bedroom, I could hear Daddy and Mommy arguing in the kitchen.  I ran down the stairs and into the kitchen and begged for them to stop.  I was crying and Daddy picked me up and hugged me. 
"
Everything will be okay, Princess.
"
  But over his shoulders, I saw his suitcases near the back door and I knew he was leaving us.  I remember crying hysterically and begging him not to go.  He'd promised he'd be with me forever, and now he was leaving.  Daddy put me down and told me to go to my room.  I refused. 
"
I'll send a check each month,
"
he said to Mommy. 
"
Don't try to find me.  I'm not coming back.
"
  He picked up his suitcases and opened the back door.  Mommy grabbed my wrist and I struggled to get free.  I wanted to go with Daddy. I want to find him.  After all these years, I still miss him.  How could he have left me?  I was his princess.  How could he leave like that and never return?

Tears burning the back of her throat, Kaitlyn closed the journal and held it close to her chest.  Poor Abby.  She was still mourning for a father who didn't give a shit about his family and what his leaving did to them.  As if the monthly child support checks would erase the pain.  She was surprised Abby didn't write about blaming her.  Kaitlyn still believed it was her fault their father left.  He couldn't deal with her surgery, the slow healing afterwards, and the way her mother obsessed about caring for her, to the extent of ignoring her younger daughter and needy husband.  It was too much responsibility for a man who yearned for his freedom and the arms of other women.  Daddy was not the hero to Kaitlyn as he was to Abby.  Though it seemed important for Abby to see him again, that was the farthest thing from Kaitlyn's mind.  Her ex-father would remain just that.

Pulling open the journal, she scanned through pages of Abby's assessments of her sexual conquests, and how each man reacted when she dumped him.  It was as if Abby got great gratification if the man was hurt and begged her to reconsider.  Perhaps it was the power that turned Abby on.  Kaitlyn didn't have to be a psychologist to realize her sister was leaving the men just like their father had left them.  Abby wanted them to experience the pain she had.

Turning to the last page, the name "Gabe" jumped out at her.  But instead of the sexual assessment Kaitlyn expected, the entry mentioned her.

I dumped Gabe tonight.  Okay, I'll be honest, at least, with myself.  I broke up with Gabe before he could break up with me.  He was too good a man for me.  I don't deserve anyone like him.  But Kaitlyn does.  She's worthy of a man who will genuinely care for her and wants her for the long run.  I'm not.  What she didn't deserve was what that bastard Mitch did to her.  Why wouldn't she listen to me when I tried to warn her?  Mitch hit on me more times than I can count.  Not that I would ever tell my big sister.  Hurting Kaitlyn was never in my game plan, though I know I've caused her pain many times.  I should have been at her rehearsal dinner when that pregnant bitch made her big announcement and Kaitlyn's world burst wide-open.  I would have kicked Mitch's ass and then escorted his pregnant friend to her car.  No one hurts my sister and gets away with it.

There are so many things about Gabe Chase that remind me of Kaitlyn, including the way he loves kids and wants to settle down with a forever love.  He's exactly the kind of man Kaitlyn deserves.  If there is any way to get them together, I'll do it.  Of course, it would help if Kaitlyn and I were still speaking.  Why we can't get along is beyond me.  But I plan to make more of an effort.  I love her so much.  She matters so much to me, even more than Mom. 

It was Abby's last entry in her journal. Tears flooded down Kaitlyn’s cheeks with their heat and quiet power.  Abby loved her.  She wouldn't have guessed that in a million years.  In fact, she always believed the opposite.  What younger sister wouldn't resent the attention and affection her older and ill sister had received from their mother?

Finding Abby was even more important now.  Kaitlyn had to make things right between them. Enough time had been wasted.

<><><> 

Wearing a body-hugging navy tee with a flirty, flared skirt and matching three-inch pumps, Kaitlyn Reece strode into the Hoosier Sports Bar and Grill like she owned the place — even though this was her first visit alone to any bar — ever.  The place was jam-packed with no empty table in sight.  A fleeting urge to bolt from the bar rushed through her, but she took a cleansing breath and headed toward the bar.  Her mission was to find her sister, and turning back was not an option.

Sliding onto a bar stool, she laid her small white purse on the bar and motioned for the bartender. 

Quickly scanning his name tag, Kaitlyn said, "Hi, Keith. I'll have a strawberry margarita," she said.  If she wanted information, she needed to buy a drink and make friends with the bartender.  "By the way, I'm Kaitlyn."

"Want the umbrella, too, Kaitlyn?" he teased, as his eyes appeared to be undressing her.

"Why not?" she answered.

A moment later, Keith returned with her drink, placed it before her, and accepted the money she slid back.  Slipping the bills in his apron pocket, he leaned on the bar with his elbows.  "I haven't seen you in here before."

Thirsty and nervous, she lifted her glass, nearly emptying it, and choked when the alcohol hit her throat. 
That's what I get for ordering an alcoholic beverage when I rarely drink
.

"Another strawberry margarita, please."

"Coming right up." Keith turned his back to her to mix the drink.  A short time later, he placed another drink before her, shot her his version of a sexy smile, and repeated, "I don't think I've seen you in here before."

"No, you haven't."  She slipped Abby's photo out of her purse and slipped it across the bar to him.  "What about her?  Have you seen her?"

Holding the photo between two fingers, he said, "It looks like Abby."

"When is the last time you saw her?"

"Are you a cop?" he asked, as he looked at her with distrust.

"No, I'm her sister," Kaitlyn said, sipping her drink, already feeling a little light-headed.  "When is the last time you saw her?"

"About a week ago.  On a Friday. It was late and she came in by herself, but she wasn't alone long.  These two guys honed in on her, and before you know it, she's on the dance floor with both of them."

"How long did she stay?  Did she leave with these two guys?"

"Abby stayed until closing.  I think they left thirty or so minutes before she did." 

They were interrupted by a young man who brushed against Kaitlyn as he sat on the barstool next to her.  The bartender quickly took his order and left.  Sliding his hand down her back, he whispered, "If I told you that you had a great body, would you hold it against me?" 

Kaitlyn stiffened and said, "Seriously, that line is older than you are."  He was in his twenties with over-moussed, slicked-back hair that made him look like a seventies mob boss.  "You'd be wise to remove your hand from my butt before things get ugly."

<><><> 

For a Wednesday night, the Hoosier Sports Bar and Grill was hopping.  The parking lot was filled when Gabe arrived at nine o'clock, and he had to park his truck alongside the road.  He'd decided to visit the popular bar at night and pass around Abby's photo to see if anyone had been there the night she disappeared.  He was almost to the front door when he spotted a blue metallic Volkswagen Beetle.  Moving to the back of the vehicle, he noted the license plate number.  Kaitlyn Reece was here, and she better not be here doing the same thing he was.  Not after he specifically told her not to.  Mentally counting to ten, he clenched his jaw in an effort to cool his annoyance.  If Kaitlyn was here playing amateur P.I., he had a thing or two to discuss with her about their agreement.

Spotting Kaitlyn as soon as he entered the bar, he strode toward her.  As he grew closer, he realized she was sharing a heated conversation with the guy on the bar stool next to her.  Kaitlyn had her hand on the guy's upper thigh in a claw grip and he was squealing in soprano.

"Hi, honey.  The babysitter finally arrived.  Have you been waiting long?"  Gabe kissed Kaitlyn's cheek and hugged her hard enough to loosen her grip on the squealer's thigh. 

Surprised, Kaitlyn turned to see Gabe Chase standing behind her, wearing a green long-sleeved T-shirt that stretched across his powerful chest, under a black leather jacket, along with a pair of black jeans.  He looked hotter than any man had a right to look, except for the angry, scowling expression on his face. 

To the bartender, Gabe said, "Would you please find us a table?"

Slipping Abby's photo into her purse, Kaitlyn, still feeling light headed, swiveled around on her barstool, and then moved next to Gabe, who had wrapped his arm around her waist to brace her. The seventies-mob-boss-wannabe took the opportunity to limp to a far corner of the bar, as far away from Kaitlyn as he could manage.

Kaitlyn shouldn't be this glad to see Gabe.  After all, she was caught doing exactly what he asked her not to do — investigate her sister's disappearance on her own.  She wasn't looking forward to the tongue-lashing he was sure to deliver.

A slow, romantic Michael Bublé song sounded from the loud speakers.  The DJ announced it was a ladies choice dance, and Kaitlyn took the opportunity to distract Gabe.

"May I have this dance?" she asked, flashing her most persuasive smile at him.

Gabe squinted suspiciously down at her, making Kaitlyn certain he was about to turn her down.  To her surprise, he pressed a large hand against the small of her back and led her to the dance floor.

Moving into the circle of his arms, Kaitlyn found her head fit perfectly in the hollow between his shoulders and neck.  She settled in, enjoying the feel of his powerful arms around her, his large hand pressed against the base of her spine.