Web of Justice (10 page)

“He could be living out of his car,” Hank said. “Needless to say, we have all available officers scouring the city. I checked with the sergeant who supervised the canvassing where Wilde got away from you, Jake, but it didn’t turn anything up. No one in the area noticed anything unusual.”

“He might’ve left the city by now,” Jake said. He picked up the folder and thumbed through the pages.

“We have a nationwide BOLO out on him in case he does.”

“I think he’s still around somewhere,” Annie said. “He has ties here. Besides, though he doesn’t seem too bright, he must know he can’t get far without money.”

“According to his financial records, he doesn’t have much of that,” Hank said. “His bank account’s almost dry. We’re monitoring his credit card, but it’s near its limit. He must be living on whatever cash he might’ve had on hand.”

“Or he’s getting assistance from someone,” Annie said.

“Perhaps. But I don’t think it’s his brother.” Hank paused, twiddled with his pen a moment, then narrowed his eyes. “If Izzy gets desperate enough, he might try to contact Carter again. I’ve arranged to have a talk with Carter Wilde. My intentions are to convince the man to support us in our hunt for his brother.”

“He might not be too eager to help,” Annie said.

Hank shrugged. “If he knows something and keeps it from us, it’s accessory after the fact. A serious offense. And aiding and abetting a fugitive is just as serious. I’ve got all kinds of things I can throw at him. Obstruction of justice and so on,” Hank said and paused. “But I’d sooner have his willing cooperation.”

Jake pulled a photo from the folder and held it up. “Hank, what’s the significance of this cot in Izzy Wilde’s shed?”

Hank shook his head. “Can’t figure that one out. There’s no evidence Olivia Bragg had been raped, and it’s doubtful Izzy was sleeping there.”

“Maybe someplace for his victims to sleep,” Annie suggested.

“Perhaps,” Hank said. “CSI found evidence Olivia had been on the bed as well as in the chair.” He sat back and crossed his arms. “We also know the car we found in Izzy’s garage was the one he used to kidnap her.”

Jake closed the folder and dropped it onto the desk. “Anything in the house that might show where Wilde is hiding out?”

Hank shook his head. “Not that I could find.”

Annie looked around the precinct. “Where’s Detective King?”

“Got him tracing Lindy Metz’s route from last night. From the time she left her babysitting job until she was abducted.” He paused and frowned. “I’d like to find out what kind of car Wilde was driving. All we know is Lindy IDed it as a midsized gray sedan. There must be a million of them around.”

“He can’t be far,” Annie said.

Hank looked at his watch. “I have to run. I have an appointment with Carter Wilde at noon.” He picked up his briefcase, stuffed some files inside, and stood.

Jake and Annie accompanied Hank to the parking lot. The cop got into his Chevy and rolled down the window. “Be careful,” he said with a wave and pulled away.

Annie stood still and watched him leave, a faint frown on her face.

“What’s on your mind?” Jake asked. “I know that look.”

“I have an idea that might lead somewhere.” She strode toward the Firebird. “Come on. Let’s get home.”

Chapter 16

Wednesday, 12:25 p.m.

JAKE FOLLOWED ANNIE into the house and stopped in the kitchen for a drink before going to the office. Annie was booting up the iMac, tapping her fingers impatiently on the desk while she waited for the warm glow of the monitor to appear.

Jake settled into a chair. “So, what’s your big idea?”

“Something you said got me thinking,” Annie answered.

“I said a lot of things.”

“What you said about Izzy needing a place to take his victims.”

Jake cocked his head. “And you think you know where that is?”

“No, but he obviously has another car,” Annie said. “If you include the one he left in his garage, this is his third vehicle.”

“But he probably dumped it already.”

Annie smiled. “Exactly. And that means he needs another one.”

Jake chuckled. “Now you’re making some sense. You know where he’s gonna get it, don’t you?”

“Yup.” Annie spun her chair and faced the computer. “The same place he got the last one.”

Jake leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk, watching as Annie navigated to the online site where, according to Callaway, Izzy had purchased his prior vehicle.

After a few clicks of the mouse, Annie brought up a long list of vehicles advertised as private sales.

“You can probably eliminate any recent models,” Jake said. “He’ll be looking for the cheapest car he can find.”

Annie filtered the search results for anything under a thousand dollars, but they were still faced with a dozen vehicles.

Jake stood and leaned in a little closer, his eyes glued to the screen. He pointed. “You can get rid of those three. They’re being sold as is, and likely not even in running condition.” He ran his finger down the screen. “And those two are a bit too flashy for him. He’s gonna want something nondescript.” He peered a little closer. “And those two are out of town.”

“That still leaves us with five possibilities,” Annie said.

“Four,” Jake said. “You can eliminate that hatchback. He likes his vehicles with a trunk.”

“I’ll make some phone calls,” Annie said. She spun her chair, picked up the desk phone, and referred to the phone number on the monitor while she dialed.

A few minutes and four short conversations later, she hung up the phone and turned to Jake with a triumphant smile. “For one of them, I got an answering machine saying to call back this evening after six. One of the others is sold, and the buyer in no way matches Izzy’s description. The third doesn’t run. Needs some work first.” She paused and sat back.

Jake sighed lightly and took his cue. “And the last one?”

“Could be him. It’s a 2004 Hyundai Sonata for eight hundred dollars. The seller is expecting a prospective buyer in less than an hour. I asked him not to sell it until we’ve had a chance to look at it. Says he can’t do it. It’s first come, first served.”

Jake stood. “Then we’d better be on our way.”

Annie printed out the address and phone number of the seller, grabbed her handbag, and followed Jake to the Firebird.

“It shouldn’t take us more than fifteen minutes to get there,” Annie said as she fastened her seat belt.

“Bet I could do it in ten,” Jake said, starting the engine.

“I already factored your usual excessive speed into the equation.”

Jake grinned and pulled from the driveway. “In that case, we’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Just guide me.”

Fourteen minutes later, Jake eased the vehicle down a middle-class street. Annie peered at the house numbers and, a moment later, motioned toward the curb. “We’d better pull over here. We’re looking for number twenty-five.” She pointed up the street on the other side. “It’s right there. Past that big tree.”

Jake pulled over and stopped the vehicle. He reached into the backseat, retrieved a pair of binoculars, and trained them on the house.

“See anything?” Annie asked.

“I see a Hyundai Sonata backed into the driveway. It looks pretty rough. No wonder it’s so cheap.”

“The owner said it’s roadworthy.”

Jake lowered the glasses and looked at Annie. “Think we should call Hank?”

“Not yet. But if we see Izzy, we will.”

Jake handed the binoculars to Annie. “You watch the house while I take a closer look.” He reached into the backseat, found a smaller pair, and hung them around his neck.

He climbed from the car, crossed the street, and approached the house with caution. If Annie was right, and she usually was, then he’d better be careful not to be seen. If Wilde had abandoned his car, he might be on foot, possibly taking the bus or a cab. Of course, there was an off chance he was still driving the gray sedan Lindy had described.

There was no one to be seen, so Jake crossed back over the street and selected a spot beside an overgrown hedge. From his vantage point across from the house, he’d be hidden, but he had a clear view of the house and the driveway. He sat down and waited.

A few minutes later, Jake squinted down the street. Someone was coming. He focused the binoculars. Whoever it was, he wore a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. The man’s head was lowered, and his face couldn’t be seen.

Jake pulled out his cell phone and called Annie. “I think Wilde’s here.” He waited and watched. The man’s head was turned away now, perhaps looking at the house numbers as he walked. He stopped in front of number 25 and glanced up and down the street. Jake got a clear view of the visitor’s face before he turned and strode up the driveway.

“It’s him,” Jake said into the phone. “Call Hank.”

Jake slipped his phone back into his pocket, worked himself further back into the bush, and watched the house.

Izzy knocked on the side door, and a few moments later, it swung open. A burly man stepped out and had a brief exchange of words with the prospective buyer, then they moved toward the Hyundai. The owner opened the car door and climbed inside, and the headlights came on as the car came to life.

Izzy’s hand went to his pocket and he removed a roll of bills, awkwardly counting through them with a bandaged hand. He wasn’t wasting any time. At this rate, the car would have a new owner, and Izzy would be long gone before the police got here.

Jake had to do something.

He slipped from his hiding spot, jogged down the sidewalk twenty feet, then crossed the street. He wanted to get as close as possible before being seen by either of the two men.

He approached a short hedge at the side of the driveway, ducked low, and took a quick look through the greenery. Izzy was facing the street, and Jake decided to wait until the man’s back was turned before he approached.

He glanced at his watch and then looked up and down the street. It’d been several minutes since he’d asked Annie to call Hank, and there were no police cars in sight.

A car door slammed, an engine roared, and the waiting was over. Jake stepped out from behind the hedge and tore up the driveway toward the Hyundai.

The vehicle was thirty feet away, but before Jake could make it, the driver-side door opened and Izzy tumbled out. The fugitive made it to his feet, dashed toward the rear of the vehicle, and looked around frantically.

There were high fences at the rear and one side of the property, with the house on the other side. Izzy spun back around. Jake stood near the front of the vehicle between him and Wilde’s path to freedom.

The seller stood with his mouth open, his head moving back and forth between Wilde and Jake.

“You might as well give up,” Jake said. “The police are on their way.”

Wilde’s face reddened and his lips curled back. He glanced from side to side and then back at Jake. A moment later he dashed toward the house, pushed open the door, and disappeared inside.

Jake took three long leaps and stopped the closing door with one hand. He stepped inside. Wilde had dashed up a short flight of stairs, taken a left, and vanished out of sight. Jake took the steps two at a time and followed. The route led him into the living room in time to see Wilde disappear out the front door of the house.

Wilde had escaped once before, and Jake was determined not to let him get away this time. But the man was fast. Faster than Jake had expected.

By the time Jake was able to get through the door, Wilde had made it across the front lawn, had leaped over the hedge, and was running up the street toward freedom. He’d soon be running right past a startled Annie, Jake hard on his heels.

A familiar engine roared and tires squealed. The Firebird swung into the middle of the street, directly into the path of the fugitive. Wilde had no time to react. He threw up his arms to protect himself as he plowed into the front fender of the vehicle. He bounced backwards, landed on the asphalt, and lay still.

Annie stepped from the vehicle as Jake came to a stop beside the defeated fugitive. “I thought you could use a hand,” she said with a smile.

Chapter 17

Wednesday, 1:38 p.m.

HANK SAT ON THE corner of his desk, his arms folded, grinning with pleasure as a pair of officers escorted Izzy Wilde across the precinct floor. The suspect held his head high in defiance, anger clouding his face.

Jake and Annie came through the front doors and stopped in front of Diego’s office, where the captain was leaning against the door frame. Diego looked pleased as he offered a handshake of appreciation to the investigators.

Hank went over to where the three stood. “Nice job, guys.”

“Annie was the genius on this one,” Jake said, glancing at his wife.

“We’re a team,” Annie said.

Hank turned as Wilde was prodded down a hallway at the back of the precinct. He was being taken to an interview room, and Hank was looking forward to the interrogation.

Detective King left his spot by the watercooler and wandered over with one hand shoved deep into a pocket, the other holding a cup of coffee. He slugged Jake on the shoulder, tipped his hat to Annie, and turned to Hank.

“Can’t wait to see what this clown has to say.” King drained his coffee and crinkled up the cup, making an expert toss into a nearby wastebasket.

Hank nodded. “All set? Let’s do it.” He beckoned for the Lincolns to follow him and then led them down the hallway and into a small room. One wall held a large two-way mirror with another door beside it. Jake and Annie sat on a pair of semi-comfortable chairs. From there they could watch and listen to the interview.

Hank and King went through the door into an adjoining room, closing the door behind them.

Izzy Wilde sat on the far side of a metal table, his hands cuffed and chained securely to a metal ring embedded into the tabletop. He scowled up at the detectives, then turned his face away, glancing around the sparse room, finally bringing his eyes to rest on the two-way mirror.