Sneaking Suspicions (The Tharon Trace Mysteries Book 1) (7 page)

Kaid asked, “Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, there was something crawling on me and I freaked out.  Sorry about being such a baby.”

Tharon stepped a little away from Helm but still held his waist with both hands, “Thanks.  How did you know how to help me?”

“My mom falls asleep on the couch and gets nightmares sometimes,” Helm held her shoulders.  “That’s how my dad calms her down.  I’m glad it worked for you too.”

She became disoriented in the darkness and no longer knew which way the door was.  She took another deep breath and felt her way to hold hands with both of them.  “We need to stay together and find the door.”

Kaid led the way, feeling along with his feet and free hand.  When he came to the wall they all three flattened along it but found no door.  Kaid led them to the left as they inched along the wall.

Tharon counted the corners and the steps for each wall.  When she counted the fourth corner and thought of the number of steps on the opposite wall, she moaned.  “Are you kidding me?  We just went around the entire room.  We started out right next to the door.”

“Found it,” Kaid whispered.

Helm pressed between them and felt for the door knob.  He opened his knife again and said, “My dad locked the keys in the house once and he opened it with his—” click, “—pocket knife.”  The door knob opened in his hand.

Tharon felt the boys each grab hold of her shoulders as she led them into the hallway.  She moved forward and felt until she found the opposite wall and then side stepped to the right until Helm whispered, “I found the next door.”

Tharon heard Helm fiddling with the door.  His knife kept striking metal.  She touched his arm and moved his knife away from the door.  “Let me check something.”

Gliding her hand along the frame of the door, she found a square metal security plate overlapped the frame preventing them from using the knife to open the lock.  She opened her mouth to suggest the glass window when she heard someone unlocking the door from the hallway.  Voices filtered through a room to their right and the flashlight beamed through the glass window revealed a small room cluttered with overturned filing cabinets and rotting papers.

The children held still and listened to Marty, Burt and Carl arguing.

“They’re in here ain’t they?” Marty mocked.  “You ain’t got no imagination, Carl.”

Carl scoffed. “No they ain’t.  I hid ‘em good.  I just heard Cat in here and knew she’d be hungry.  You’re an animal, Marty, leavin’ the poor thing in here with no way to get food or water.”

Marty sneered. “Serves her right.  That monster bit me last week.  You’re lucky I didn’t slice her open.  The only reason I didn’t was cause then I’d have put up with your whining.”

Burt broke in. “Shut up, you two!  Forget the stupid cat.  We gotta figure out what to do with those brats.  Carl, we either have to kill them or sell them.  You ain’t gonna like either option so decide now, which will it be?”

“Burt, we ain’t gonna kill them!  What do you mean sell them?  Who buys kids?” Carl’s voice sounded angry and scared at the same time.

“If they was babies we’d have lots of places we could sell them.  Even just dump them off at a fire department.  But they ain’t babies.  As long as they’re in this country, then we got a problem.  I’ve heard of a place in New York that’ll take kids.  This guy traffics kids overseas for sex slaves.  He takes boys and girls.  He pays good, too.  The younger they are the more he pays.”

Kaid and Helm tightened their grip on Tharon’s shoulder.

Carl seemed wary. “I don’t like the sounds of that.  They’re just kids.  Ain’t there anything else?”

Marty’s gravelly voice gave Tharon chills.  “I know a guy in Philadelphia.  He takes in stray kids from the streets and sells them to a company that does genetic research.  He figures if they survived the pandemic virus they might have immunity—might be able to stop another virus outbreak.  Takes right good care of them, he does.”

Burt sounded hopeful. “No foolin’?  Does he pay good?”

Marty chuckled. “Yeah, he pays real good.  And the kids is fed better than they ever was in their lives.”

Burt slapped his brother’s back. “There you go, Carl, it’s a right good solution.  Why don’t you go find a box to put Cat and her kittens in?  Marty and I will go call this guy and make the arrangements.”

Carl’s thudding footsteps retreated back toward the shop.

“What’s the real story, Marty,” Burt growled.  “You know there ain’t nowhere we can send those kids without worrying about them talking, unless we sends them overseas.”

Marty chuckled. “That was just for Carl’s benefit.  You ain’t the only one with a brother.  My brother’s in Philly and he do sell kids to a genetics company, but they gets cut up after they finish with them.  My brother has a bit of a fetish though.  He keeps some for himself.  They don’t last as long as the ones that goes to the company.  He likes little girls.  Recon he’d like that one just fine.”

A new voice cut the air like a knife.  He sounded younger than the other men and when he said a word with an s or z he made a slight whistling sound. “You morons.  What the hell do you think you’re playing at here?  Don’t you realize we have just two weeks before the plan goes into motion?”

“Well if it isn’t our dandy police officer.” Marty’s voice dripped with sarcasm.  “Careful, you might smudge those shiny boots of yours mingling here with us riff-raff.”

The policeman sniffed loudly and sneezed. “The Hamron administration is targeting Indiana for a reason.  This state has to be brought to its knees.  Once we take the school bus hostage and claim the secessionist did it, the feds plan to save the day with a Homeland Security military strike force and Indiana will become the first police state in the Union.  That will put an end once and for all to the secession movement.”

Burt growled. “You ain’t telling us nothing we don’t already know.  What are you doing here officer?”   He said officer like it was a dirty word.  “I thought we were supposed to keep a
respectable distance
—so today of all days you show up here?  We found a spy and we took care of him, so what do you want?”

The officer made a short barking laugh. “
You
took care of him?  Yeah, I heard how you took care of him.  It’s all over the news.  I’m here because I got a call from the top to find out if you idiots thought to find out who hired him and what he told them?”

Burt sputtered.  In his gravel voice, he grumbled, “We was askin’ him but my gun’s got a hair trigger an’ it went off before we finished talkin’ to him.”

Marty snorted. “Hair trigger—you’re going with that excuse?”

“Shut up!” the officer shouted. “What were you doing out there anyway?”

“We was checking out the bus route,” Burt grumbled. “That’s how we found out Wil was a spy.  We caught him using his phone.  He was recording the GPS of the route.  We stopped him before he could send it to anyone.”

The officer’s voice took on a more menacing tone, “What about the kids you took?  Did you kill them?”

“Not yet,” Burt growled.  “My brother has qualms about killing kids.  Marty and I was just coming up with a plan for them.”

“Just as well.  The boss wants the girl alive,” the officer said. “But the boys dead.  Might be a good idea if you kill them and dump their bodies in one of the rivers to decoy searchers from looking for her elsewhere.”

“Why do they want the girl and not the boys?” Marty’s voice sounded suspicious.

“I’m sure I don’t know and didn’t feel inclined to ask.  I got the impression the girl was always a target.  That’s why her bus route was picked and there was always going to be other kids who would disappear with her,” the officer’s voice was laced with contempt.  “Your team wasn’t on the need to know list.”

“So if she’s so important will we still take the bus?” Burt said.  “I mean if we already got who they want, why bother with the hostage sham?”

“From what I gathered, taking the girl was to be a bonus.  The plan is still a go.  It has taken ten years but we have people in every level of government and law enforcement in this state.  In one afternoon you put all that at risk.  And Marty, I got to tell you, the boss expected better from you.”

Uncertainty and fear filled Marty’s voice when he said, “The girl?  I thought she looked familiar.  How the hell did she end up here?”

Tharon stood frozen in place it was only the grip each of the boys had on her shoulders that kept her from screaming. 
Why would anyone want me?  I’m nobody.

The policeman’s sneering tone cut through her thoughts. “I have to know, how come you didn’t look around to make sure the site was secure?  Who was the first one out of the van?”

Marty grumbled, “It was me and Carl.  But those kids had to be forty or fifty feet up in a tree way up on the hill.  Who the hell expects to find kids up in a tree like that in freezing cold weather?  It isn’t natural.”  His voice dropped its usual scorn. “You can tell the boss not to worry.  Those kids won’t be talking to no one.  Are you taking the girl now?”

“Don’t be stupid.  You’re going to have to keep them under wraps until the heat dies down a bit.  Might be a good idea to keep them alive for a few days, then kill the boys and dump them a couple hundred miles from here—maybe down on the Ohio River.  That should take the pressure off the search here enough to smuggle her out to a secure government holding facility.”

Kaid and Helm each squeezed Tharon’s shoulder even tighter.  She trembled and they inched closer to her.

The outer door creaked open wider and Burt said, “Who’s going to kill the boys?”

Marty’s cackle sent chills down Tharon’s spine.  “I’ll take care of that.  You don’t have to hog all the fun.”

Burt’s voice moved back into the hall. “I think your brother ain’t the only one in your family with a fetish.”

Marty snarled. “I don’t know if it’s a fetish, but I got no qualms about nothing—no qualms at all.”

The officer’s voice faded into the hallway, “I’ll report that you’re taking responsibility then, Marty.”

Marty’s frightening chuckle faded as well.  “I got no problem with that, no problem at all.”

The heavy door closed with a loud thud as the locks clicked into place.  Goosebumps prickled Tharon’s arms and she broke out in a cold sweat.  She whispered, “We’ve got to get out of here.  Now.”

CHAPTER 6

Maisy pressed and folded the bread dough on the counter in Lista’s kitchen.  She didn’t expect anyone to eat it but she had to do something with her hands to keep hysteria at bay.  The thought of sweet little Tharon in the hands of killers tore her heart to pieces.  She brushed a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand, leaving a smudge of flour in its wake, and punched the dough hard, wishing it was the kidnapper’s face.

The front doorbell chimed.  She heard Angela answer the door and a deep familiar voice from the foyer broke Maisy’s rhythm and concentration.  She strained to hear; when that didn’t work, she silently tiptoed into the hallway and stood in the shadows of the dining room near the half wall behind the sofa.

Maisy saw Angela close the door behind Max Stephens, who stood at the edge of the foyer.

It had been a long time since Maisy had seen Max close up.  His clothes were at least two sizes too big; the end of his belt had been trimmed and was fastened two inches past the regular holes; his pants were wet to above his knees.  With his hat in his hands, he glanced down at the polished wood floors like a little boy waiting to be scolded for tracking mud into the house.

“Do you have a recent picture of Tharon we can put out with the Amber Alert?  We’ve already collected pictures of the two boys from their parents.”

Maisy sensed Lista’s fragile emotional state.  She slipped around the corner as Lista gulped for air.

Maisy’s heart broke to see the panic and pleading in Lista’s eyes when she looked at her.

Max stepped further into the living room, perplexed by Lista’s reticence.  When he spoke his voice became softer, more patient.  “It’s vital that we get pictures of the children circulated immediately.  The more people who see their pictures, the greater chance we’ll have of finding and rescuing them.”

Maisy rounded the half wall and sat on the sofa facing Lista, but angled her back to Max.  She knotted her hands in her lap and when Lista locked eyes with her again, Maisy nodded to reassure her and smiled a bleak smile.

Lista perched on the edge of the oversized red floral chair in the corner by the fireplace.  She cleared her throat. “Of course.”  With effort she stood and picked a frame from the mantle.  The picture captured a happy moment of Tharon with her arms wrapped around Shep.  Lista’s lips curved into a sad smile as she studied the picture.  “This is the most recent.”  Handing the picture to Max, she asked, “How far will the pictures be circulated?”

Max assured her. “The alert goes out to the local stations and of course the coverage areas include parts of Ohio and Michigan.  But in all honesty, with social media, most amber alerts get nationwide exposure.”

Tears filled Lista’s eyes to the brim.  When she blinked they spilled down her cheeks.  She gave Max a sad smile as she handed the picture to him.  “Please, bring my little girl home to me.”

He touched her arm. “We’ll do everything we can.”  He snapped a picture of the photo with his phone and handed the picture and frame back to Lista.  He took a card from his shirt pocket and handed it to Lista.  “You can call me any time, night or day, if you have questions or think of anything that might help us.”

Lista absently placed the card on the stand next to her chair. “Thank you.”

Max turned to Maisy. “Ms. Baker, you said you saw the van, can you describe it?”

Maisy tilted her head as she tried to visualize the van.  “It passed very quickly, but it was a white utility minivan.  I couldn’t tell what make it was but it must have been an older model because it had rust on the hood.  The lettering was worn off but there was part of a golden rattlesnake painted on the side of it.  There were only windows in the middle and front.  There were no windows in the back.”  Maisy shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze.

“Do you think you’d be able to describe it to a sketch artist?”

Maisy bridled at the thought of leaving Lista.  “I think I can give you a fairly accurate sketch of it myself.  Just give me a moment.”  She crossed over to the desk in the front corner of the living room next to the window seat.  She pulled a piece of blank white paper from the printer and felt Max’s eyes on her as she sketched the image with a pencil, erasing and redrawing until the drawing matched the image in her mind’s eye.

While Maisy sketched, Lista said, “Max, I’m sorry, I’m so worried about Tharon I forgot to ask, how is Lucy doing?  We’ve missed her the last few weeks at church.”

Max’s broad shoulders sagged a bit.  He shifted his weight and seemed to not know what to do with his hands.  He cleared his throat several times, but his words were still choked with emotion.  “That’s kind of you to ask.  She’s having a hard time with the chemo treatments, but, you know Lucy, she’s smiles through it all.”

Maisy finished the drawing.  “Will this help?” she asked as she handed Max the sketch.

He studied the drawing. “This will give me a place to start and should help tremendously.  Was there anything else that seemed unusual or that stood out to you?”

Maisy shook her head and looked out the window.  “I could have sworn I glimpsed the profile of a man in a cowboy hat sitting in the back seat.  I wish I could help more.  It was moving pretty fast when it passed.”

Why did he keep staring at her?  She thought of Tharon and wanted him to leave and stop looking at her face.  “You’d better get going, the quicker you get that out the quicker you’ll find the children.”  She walked back down the hall to the kitchen, pausing after a few steps, she half turned without looking at him directly. “I’m sorry Lucy is feeling poorly.”