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“Where are we?”
“I don’t know, but an apartment, I think. Close to the street because when they open the door the traffic’s right outside. If you can get to the door, or a window, maybe you can get it open. Or find something sharp. They’ve got me tied to this table or board.”
He tried. She could hear his hisses of pain, his choked sobs and harsh breathing as he inched his way toward her.
When he managed to get to his knees, she saw his face again, gray from the effort, his eyes glazed from the pain and the remnants of what they’d forced down him.
His skin was shiny with sweat, and blood from where they’d cut him. He shivered like a man cased in ice.
“There’s a knife – I see a knife on that table. If I can get over to it, maybe I can knock it down to the floor.”
“Try. Try, Reed.”
He did, scooting on his knees. She saw his hand, bone-white and badly swollen, and more blood from more slices and gouges on his back.
Pity stirred somewhere deep inside her, but heavy over it was a fierce and violent hope. If he could get to the knife…
He swayed, nearly went over. “Dizzy. Need to —”
“Stop a minute. Catch your breath.”
But it was too late. He tipped to the side, tried to pull himself back. Overbalanced, he fell backward, landed on his broken hand.
His scream was thin as wire before he passed out.
15
When Feeney arrived, Eve gestured to the buffet table, and what was left.
“Still food.”
“I’ll take it.” He looked at her board as he grabbed a plate. “How long have they had this one?”
“About eight hours.”
He nodded, piled on bacon, uncovered the eggs on the warming plate, helped himself. “Could be trying a twofer.”
“I’m hoping, as that keeps Campbell alive. I just sent in a report, and I’m going to talk to Mira about it. It could be the next escalation. One for each of them. Carmichael and Santiago may have a lead in Arkansas. But the best bet we have now is the feed from the loading dock.”
“Dallas.” Peabody held up a hand, held her comm in the other. “We may have a little more. A café in the snatch location just opened. A beat droid’s sending over their feed. Image is spotty, but we may have the male unsub on it.”
“It’s cracking.” Eve turned to Feeney. “A couple of good whacks, and it breaks.”
“Send it onto Roarke’s comp lab. I’ll go join the boys. Deputy,” he added with a nod to Banner. “Looks like you had the scent all along.”
“We sure got it now.” He waited till Feeney stepped out. “I’ve got the souvenir places, Lieutenant. None of them are open yet. And I’ve got a chunk of places that do takeaway. Just getting going on the pawnshops, but none of them are open yet, either.”
“Send me what you’ve got, and we’ll start pushing through it.” She checked the time. “If Mira isn’t up by now, she’s about to be.”
Eve started toward her desk when her ’link signaled. “Santiago,” she said, answered. “Give me something.”
“We cut the son out of the herd, and started working him. He’s in this somewhere, LT, or knows something. But the father swooped in before we pried it out of him. They’re all pretty jumpy now.”
“Get the local law into it. Pull them in, work them in whatever they have for a cop shop down there.”
“That’s the thing.” Santiago’s dark eyes shifted to the side, narrowed in annoyance at something – someone – off screen. “Bubba’s brother-in-law’s a lawyer, and he’s putting up roadblocks on this. He’s also the local law’s fishing buddy, and the connections are playing hell with any cooperation. It’s a stall, Dallas. We can play the game, but it’s going to take some time.”
“Time’s the problem. How sure are you about this Bubba – and it embarrasses me to say that name out loud.”
