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“Waiting on you,” Marc said.
“Well, I’m here now,” Axel said. He looked pointedly at Corey. “What are we doing?”
“I did some background checks,” Corey said. “Did a few social data checks, too. And I checked some emails from grandma.”
“We hacked her email?” I asked.
Corey shrugged. “She typed in her password with me there.” He stretched out a hand, touching my back gently, urging me to be quiet for a minute. “No contact from Fred though. Nothing since he was notified as being missing via a police report.”
“She said she talked to him,” I said.
“Lied,” Raven said.
“Why is he taking off with the kid?” Axel asked. He bent over, smacking the TV power button to shut it off. “Focus, guys. Tell me.”
“He lives here in town,” Corey said. He got up and went to his laptop. “Worked driving a tour bus. Scraped by from what I can tell.” He turned the laptop screen toward us, showing us pictures.
Fred looked normal enough, brown hair, decent build. Younger than I expected, maybe late twenties or early thirties.
Corey touched the keyboard and went to the next picture. It was a woman with hair cropped short, blond. “The ex-wife is a piece of work, though. This is Luanne. Her Facebook posts just her complaining and a few of her girlfriends sympathizing. Fred and Luanne have been to court multiple times over the last couple of years. According to the emails, whenever she wants more money, she threatens to take him to court. When he didn’t show up to drop off the kid right on time, and I mean right on time, she went straight for the police. She started out threatening to take his parental rights away, but after a day, she’s saying on Facebook she thinks he really kidnapped her and wants the police to arrest him for that.”
“He did kidnap her,” I said. “If he took off with his daughter to keep her from the mother, that’s what it is. Probably did it to piss her off and get her off his back. Happens a lot. He didn’t even consider his grandmother’s house was up for collateral on this.”
“I want to know more before we call the police when we find him,” Axel said. “Marc, Raven, I want you two to check out Luanne. Find her and talk to her if you can.” He pointed at Corey. “Unless you need to do something else here, I want you and Brandon to check out his workplace. Find out who his friends are.”
Brandon nodded. “Should I take a tour?”
“Don’t waste the time unless you can’t find another opening. Those things can take two hours. If you can get out of there, go back to Grandma’s house. Keep an eye on her. We may get lucky and they show up there. Do you need a third?”
Brandon shook his head. “Shouldn’t.”
“Corey,” Axel said, “before you leave, I want Luanne’s phone tracked. See if you can’t catch some text messages. Kayli, you’ll come with me.”
“Shouldn’t we all split up?” I asked. It popped out of my mouth before I could think.
Everyone turned to me like they weren’t sure why I even suggested it.
“Sorry,” I said. “I just mean we’d probably find them faster if we all go where we know he’s been. Maybe go ask friends? We’d cover more ground if we go separate ways.”
“I don’t like anyone going off alone,” he said. “We don’t know who we’re chasing, and we don’t know what state of mind this Fred guy could be in. Besides, I need you with me.”
“Oh,” I said, not expecting Axel to be someone to ask for help. I nudged Raven out of the way so I could climb off the bed. “Need me for what? Where are we going?”
“We’re going to check out Fred Gunther’s house.”
“He’s not home, is he?”
“I doubt it,” Axel said. He looked down at my hand, studying the beetle. “Please tell me that’s washable marker.”
“Not exactly.”
He groaned. “Everyone move.”
HOW TO FIND THE MISSING
I joined Axel back in the SUV. Brandon and Corey took off in a rented black box van. Marc and Raven took off in another rented black car. I wondered if the Academy liked their team in black vehicles. Was it more official looking? Less assuming? If I saw a black box van on my street, I’d immediately think FBI.
I sat in silence with Axel in the SUV. For a while, as he drove, my heart was thundering. Yesterday, I liked him for several reasons. Right now, he was the boss of an Academy cell and I had no idea what he was capable of. The idea of him being charged with arson was at the top of my mind. I couldn’t imagine what he might have set fire to as a teenager.
Still, he didn’t strike me as an arsonist, not when he had glowing fish in his bedroom. He was completely striking, though, with those focused brown eyes and that deep complexion. What drew me in the most was the way he spoke. His tone was calm, but severe, commanding. Every time I heard it, I felt like I had no choice but to pay attention.
Fred Gunther lived in an apartment complex across the street from a shopping center. The complex consisted of twelve buildings, all surrounding duck ponds with fountains. Want to boost the price of crappy apartments without touching them? Dig a hole, fill it with water and call it a duck pond. The rings around the ponds showed they were a half a foot low on water. St. Augustine must have had a dry October.
I wondered if there was an alligator in one of them.
“That’s it.” Axel pointed out the last building in the complex, nearly hugging a tree line. The Dumpster was close to this building. Mr. Gunther lived on the last spot on the right.
Axel parked and got out, doing a half jog to get around to my door and open it for me.
Each apartment had a tiny concrete slab side porch with sliding glass doors. Those on the bottom floor had an overhang where the second floor had a wooden balcony. Fred Gunther had a bottom floor apartment, and bushes surrounded his porch, like it was meant to give some privacy.
As we got close, I could see the sidewalk chalk drawings in pinks and greens all over. A tiny ladybug chair had been left out.
I stood back while Axel checked out the door to the apartment. He shook the handle first, then he knocked.
“He’s probably not home,” I said. This place had probably been visited by those bounty hunters and the police—if they were looking for little Sara Gunther—a couple of times. If I had police looking for me, I wouldn’t have gone home at all. I scanned the area, wondering if anyone was watching.
“Didn’t think he was,” Axel said. He found a place between the bushes to cut through to the porch.
“What are we doing?” I asked.
Axel checked the sliding glass doors, and then knelt, pulling out a pocket knife. “I didn’t want to go back to the car for the bump key. And this will probably be less noticeable.” He started unfolding one of the thin blades.
We were breaking in? It was starting to get close to sunset, so people were home from work. I was sure some nosy little old lady would be watching the place, ready to call the police or security for suspicious activity. “Someone’s going to notice.”
“Good,” he said.
That was the plan? “What’s a bump key?” I asked.
He motioned with his hands as he talked. “It’s got a handle like a screwdriver, with a thin knife wedge on the other side. You jam it into a lock,” he said, thrusting his hands forward like he was holding one. “You get a hammer, smash the blunt end, and twist at the same time. It can open a standard house lock pretty easily, even the bolts.”
“You carry those around?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “But sliding glass doors have minimal security, with only a tiny latch hook lock. Pretty easy to open from the outside, as long as there isn’t anything in the door to jam it.” With that, he wedged the knife tool between the wall and the door and shoved up. There was a slight crack, but the glass door slid open a little. “Stay here. I want to check it out before I let you in.” He slipped inside, out of my view.
I scanned the neighborhood again. They’d said before the Academy wasn’t
like the police. They were right. Breaking into places like this wasn’t what the police did. They couldn’t. So they thought they could go where they wanted just because they didn’t have an official badge?
I was disappointed a little, though I wasn’t sure why. We’d been doing the same before I knew the truth. Didn’t I encourage them to blow up Blake’s yacht? Didn’t I help them steal his wallet and do all those other things? It felt different now that I understood this group perhaps had been hypocrites when they called me out for being a thief. They’d do the same thing if it meant getting what they wanted.
Maybe it was a little different. I’d been stealing for survival. This was an effort to help someone else.
Axel unlocked the front door. He looked out at me and curled his fingers to encourage me inside. “We’ll just be a minute. We need to learn what we can about Fred.”
I was tempted to say I’d stay outside and be a lookout, except I was curious. And being an accessory to a B&E was just as bad as participating, so I thought I may as well go in whole hog. Yes, I was being a hypocrite, but I didn’t like standing out in the open.
The apartment wasn’t impressive. It was a one bedroom, with a tiny nook office area just in front of the kitchen. The nook was made up like a tiny bedroom for a little girl, with a small bed and pink sheets and stuffed animals littering the floor. There were drawings taped to the fridge, and sticker books opened on the counter. Framed baby pictures were on the walls.
“Sara’s got her own little nook,” I said. “Cute. Too bad she got kidnapped.”
