Welch, D [Shadow People 02] Shadow Spies Page 10

  “Okay, Ty, what can I do?”

  “I want you to help him find her. Give him whatever assistance he wants.”

  “Alright, big brother. Consider it done.”

  “And Sid, be careful. I don't want to explain to our mother how I lost my kid brother. Go on. Get out of here. I need to call Fox in a little while.”

  Paris followed Sid out the door.

  * * *

  Paris found Jaime in the suite and tossed him his car keys “Thanks Jaime, I owe you one.”

  “No problem boss, did you find what you needed?”

  “Yes. Fill you in later.” Paris went to find his family.

  They were still in the living room. “Where's Dan?” Paris asked.

  “He's at the police station.” Caesar replied. “Did you learn anything?”

  “Yes, but I only want to tell it once. We'll wait until Dan gets back. Do the cops have anything new?”

  “That's what Dan is checking,” Caesar said. “He thought they would be more likely to tell him and Roxanne because they're fellow police officers.”

  “How are you holding up?” Paris asked.

  “By a thread, brother, by a thread. If it was Alex, I'd be a basket case. You?”

  “Thinner than that. It's killing me. If I wasn't moving, I'd lose it. Speaking of Alex, I want you to stick like glue to her. You're the only one she'll listen to. If she...I'd lose it for sure.”

  “I'm way ahead of you Paris. She doesn't even go to the bathroom without me. The way I feel right now, I'll kill anyone with my bare hands if they so much as look at her in a threatening way.”

  Paris’ grin felt savage. “Save me a piece.”

  Alex’s voice issued from the front of the living room. “Dan's back.”

  Dan and Roxanne walked in and flung themselves on the couch.

  “Any word?” Paris inquired.

  “We picked up a few things. How about you?” Dan replied.

  “Everyone gather around.” Once they were all seated he began. “I'm confident it wasn't the Vegas People. They're as upset as we are. In fact, I should get a call from Tyler soon. I don't see how the Borgias would have known we were headed to Vegas. It was a spur of the moment thing, and the Council would erase them if they tried this.”

  “That fits with what we learned,” Dan said. “They found an usher who remembered talking to Elizabeth. A man posing as resort security, told the usher to locate her and bring her to the security office. God knows what happened after that, but he must have convinced her to leave the resort.”

  “How did they know it wasn't resort security?” Alex asked.

  “The usher looked at photos of all of the security officers,” Dan replied, “but he couldn't identify any of them as the security man who left with Elizabeth. The ushers are usually out of work entertainers or wanna be actors. They're temps. They have a large turnover and little training and they wouldn't know security from a brown dog.”

  “So where does this leave us?” Caesar asked. “If it's not the Shadows and it’s not a pervert… Money? Ransom?”

  “That's likely,” Dan said. “It's an organization, that's for sure, more than one perp and it looks like it was planned. Who knows how many? The FBI is involved because it’s been classified as a possible kidnapping for ransom. They're all over it. I heard the resort where she was abducted is terrified. They're facing a big lawsuit. They'll do anything to help.”

  The suite phone rang. Paris waited while Jaime answered it. He brought the phone to Paris. “It's for you sir. Tyler Bronson.”

  “Hello Ty,” Paris said.

  “Paris. I heard. It's terrible. How are you holding up?”

  “Barely Ty. Hour to hour. I need help.”

  “It's coming Paris. I've got all my People scouring the City, looking for her. My brother Sid will be over to the suite in a little while. Can you notify security to admit him?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Good. And Paris, in case you've got any doubts. None of my People had anything to do with this. We'll do anything to find her for you.”

  “Thanks, Ty I appreciate that.”

  “Talk to you soon.”

  Eric waited. “Do you require anything sir?”

  “Yes. Tell the lobby to admit Sid Bronson to the suite when he arrives.”

  Eric departed.

  Paris paced the living room. “Dan, I need you to think like a cop. There are a lot of things here that don't make sense. Like, how did they know we would be going to the show? Who told them?”

  “Oops!” Alex squeaked.

  Paris stopped pacing midstride and raised an eyebrow. “Define, ‘oops’”

  She chewed on a nail and glanced nervously at the other women in the room who refused to look her in the eyes. “Oops, as in we didn’t tell you something.”

  “And what precisely didn’t you tell us?”

  “Well...I didn’t think it was important at the time...”

  “And now?”

  Alex related the incident at the mall and her decision to not say anything about it.

  “But Paris, at the time it didn’t seem significant.”

  Dan held up a hand. “Wait. You say this guy touched you and grabbed your purse?”

  Alex nodded.

  “Do you still have the purse and the clothes you wore?”

  She nodded again.

  “Go get them and bring them here.”

  Alex emerged from the bedroom clutching her purse and the blouse and slacks she’d worn. While Dan examined the clothing, Tom looked over the purse.

  Paris resumed his pacing.

  He stopped pacing again and looked at Dan “It must be a kidnapping for ransom. The Borgia House couldn't have set this up. They're banned from Vegas like all the other Houses, and they didn't know we were going. Not only that, the Council would have their balls if they tried it. They're not stupid.”

  Dan shrugged. “Could just be a snatch of opportunity. Maybe they’ve been casing the Resort for a while, looking for a rich tourist.”

  Paris shook his head. “No. They knew Beth by her name and description. If it was just a crime of opportunity, they wouldn't know about our wealth. They specifically targeted us. The question is why?”

  “The wedding has generated some publicity,” Caesar said. “It screamed of money. Maybe that’s why we were the victims. I can't help but think it could have been Alex.”

  Dan nodded, thinking. “They were pros. That's for sure. Most kidnappers are dead dumb. They wind up getting their victim killed and themselves executed. These guys knew the resort security and the state of the theater staff. They planned the snatch. They convinced Beth to leave the place, even though she knew better. That gives me hope. If they're pros, we stand a chance of getting her back in one piece.”

  Tom interrupted. “Hah! I found it!” He tossed a small object to Dan.

  Dan whistled. “It’s tiny. I’ve never seen one so small.” He looked at Tom. “Do you recognize it?”

  Tom grinned. “Yeah, but it’s classified. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  Dan’s eyebrows rose. “What’s its range?”

  Tom shook his head. “Classified, but I can say it’s a very sensitive, efficient bug and there’s no way that an ordinary gang of kidnappers could gain access to this technology.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Dan asked.

  Tom shrugged. “I worked awhile for NSA until Homeland Security wanted me to spy on Americans. I know what to do, leave it to me. Give me the clothes so I can check, just in case.” He exited the living room with the listening device and the bundle of clothing.

  Caesar looked nervous and pointed at Tom’s receding back. “Should we be talking around that?”

  Dan spread his hands and shrugged. “The damage’s done. I doubt one bug would be sufficient, so there’s likely more. They’re so small they could be hidden anywhere in the suite. We’ll tell the FBI and let them handle it.”

  Paris fought
the depression Dan's words had resurrected. “So what do we do next?”

  “I hate to say it, Paris,” Dan replied. “We wait for a phone call or a letter.”

  Chapter 7

  Imprisoned

  Elizabeth looked around at the concrete walls of the filthy room. A rusty steel door blocked the only opening.

  She sat on two of the things they had provided for her, a cot and a sleeping bag.

  She wore some temporary shower slippers like the ones at the resort, rather than her shoes. The dress she’d been wearing when they kidnapped her was her only clothing, and the room was cold. A dim propane lantern illuminated the walls. She felt miserable and helpless.

  The events leading to her imprisonment replayed over and over in her mind.

  They had her trapped in the security office. Run? No. Scream? No. Attack?

  The big one held a hypodermic filled with a fast acting tranquilizer, or so he said. Terrified for her baby, she knew what genetic defects the wrong drug could cause. She couldn't risk him injecting her with that filth, so she’d complied with their demands. Now she wished she hadn't, despite the risk.

  At least they hadn't hurt her or her child.

  What was happening to Paris? He would be frantic. She had confidence that he would do anything to bring her back, but what did they want. Money? Paris had money and it wouldn't matter how much. He would pay it and then he would find them and kill them. She shuddered at the thought. Part of her wanted him to do it. Another part wanted Paris to let it go. They could live with it. They’d find middle ground, but when would this nightmare end?

  She heard sounds at the door. It had a hasp and was locked from the outside. She’d seen it when they put her in here. She waited.

  The door swung open. A man dressed in a ski mask entered with another, wearing a hooded sweat shirt. The hood hid his face and he turned so that she could not see his features. A muffled voice issued from the hood.

  “I apologize for the shabbiness of your accommodations, Mrs. Fox. I imagine it's not up to your expectations of Las Vegas hospitality. However, under the present circumstances, it's the best we could do.” He waited.

  Elizabeth refused to say anything.

  He continued. “We have no intention of harming you. If your husband cooperates, this unfortunate incident can be resolved.”

  “Do you have a name? Or should I just call you 'hood face'?” Elizabeth said.

  “I certainly am not about to reveal my name to you Missus Fox. Understand. It’s for your own safety.”

  “What do you want? Money?”

  “No. not money. All we require is some information from your husband, and you may return to him.”

  Not money, she thought, then what? With a sinking feeling, she thought she knew. The cursed secret that Paris' father had hidden. How many times would that cause them to live in terror?

  “What information do you think my husband has that would lead you to violate Federal Law? Surely you know that the FBI is hunting for me right now, don't you?”

  “I'd be surprised and disappointed if they’re not,” he replied.

  “Then it's only a matter of time before they find you and arrest you,” she said.

  “You obviously have a better opinion of the FBI than I do. I know their methods and their limitations. Don't count on them. They'll never find you.”

  “Are you here to torment me? Is there a purpose to this conversation?” Elizabeth asked.

  “No and yes. My purpose here is to make your stay as comfortable as possible under these conditions. Is there anything you need?”

  “You're damn right there is! I'm freezing in this dress. I need a change of clothes, something warmer, and something to clean myself with. I need water. That little bottle you gave me ran out hours ago. I need to go to the bathroom, and I'm hungry. – And by the way, the name’s Doctor Fox.”

  They left and locked the door, leaving her alone again. 'Hood face' had reawakened her despair. If the best law enforcement organization in the country couldn't find her; what chance did Paris have?

  She needed to improve the odds but how? Was there a weapon she could use? She looked around the room again. They'd left a fresh bottle of propane for the lantern and big pot in which to relieve herself. It had a lid. The pot could be a weapon if it was properly wielded, but she doubted she could do it. The lantern also was a potential weapon, but she didn't doubt that her captors had thought of that. What else could she use to catch them off guard?

  She made her way around the room, closely examining the walls. Large chunks of concrete had fallen from the walls in places; revealing rusty steel reinforcing rods. There were no matching pieces in the room, but several cracks were evident in the concrete. Could she pry out a new piece and use it as a weapon? How? She tried a few places that seemed promising and only succeeded in breaking a few of her expensively manicured nails.

  She needed a tool, something to chip or pry with. She paced around the room again thinking, looking for anything she could use.

  She stopped by the door and examined it closely. In a few places, the bottom was nearly rusted through. Along the border, steel reinforcing straps had been riveted to the door. At the very bottom, the strap looked like it might be loose.

  She began to tug and work the metal, trying to make as little sound as possible.

  Chapter 8

  Shadow Hunt

  Paris paced.

  Sid Bronson had visited and left. Some FBI agents had questioned him and advised him about their procedures.

  There was nothing to do but wait.

  His mind cycled endlessly from grief to anxiety to rage. Everywhere he looked in the suite aroused thoughts of Beth and what was happening to her. He couldn't focus. He went from room to room trying to find a way to cope with his emotions. Nothing helped.

  # # #

  Dan sat in the living room, watching Paris as he moved from the window back into the center of the suite.

  Paris' eyes were wild. He looked like he was about to break. If they had a chance to get Elizabeth back, they needed Paris whole. If he collapsed, it could put everything in jeopardy.

  “Paris, sit down.”

  Paris looked at him as if he hadn't understood his words.

  “Sit down. We need to talk.”

  Paris flopped into one of the living room chairs. “So talk.”

  “What you're doing isn't helping the situation. We need you whole. If you keep this up, you'll be sedated and in a hospital.”

  “Why don't they call? I can't stand the waiting!”

  “I doubt they will try to contact you until tomorrow,” Dan said. “They want you worked up, Paris. They want you so mad with anxiety that your judgment will be impaired, and you'll agree to anything they demand. Right now, you're helping them.”

  “Arraugh! I can't stand it!”

  “What's all the shouting about?” Caesar called. He rushed into the room with Alex beside him.

  “Paris is trying to have a nervous breakdown.” Dan replied. “I'm trying to stop him. “He leaned forward, facing Paris. “You can't give them what they want, Paris. It'll mean disaster.”

  # # #

  Paris held his head in his hands. He knew Dan was right, but he couldn't shake it. Couldn't focus. He needed something to distract him. He had to get out of the suite. Somewhere that didn't remind him of his loss. “I've got to get out of here and try to do something – anything.”

  “What if they call while you're gone?” Alex asked.

  “Dan's right. It's unlikely. If they do, give them my cell phone number. I imagine the FBI has tapped it by now. I've got to go look for her – or something. I've got to block it out of my mind or I'll go insane.”

  “So…where do we go?” Alex asked.

  “You don't go anywhere. I'm not risking you,” Caesar replied. “We stay in the suite until Elizabeth is found, then we bloody well get the hell out of Vegas.”

  Alex looked ready to argue, but when she saw his face, she
decided it wasn't a wise choice. She sat down and brooded.

  “Caesar’s right, Sis. If we lost both Elizabeth and you, neither of us could live with it. You and Caesar have each other. Don't jeopardize it.”

  “So, Dan, where do we start?” Paris asked.

  “I have an idea, but you may not like it,” Dan said. Paris waited.

  “We still haven't finished that business with Franklin. We could go looking for the Shadow.”

  “What? Go casino hopping when his wife has just been kidnapped?” Alex asked. “Won't that look a bit callous? What will the cops think?”

  “Franklin can defuse that issue if it comes up,” Dan said. “It's definitely something that will distract us from this pressure. We have everything we need to try again. It's up to you, Paris.”

  “Where's everyone else?” Paris asked.

  “They're out by the pool,” Dan replied. “I guess they’re trying not to intrude.”

  “Go get them. We need to make some plans.”

  When everyone had reassembled in the living room, Paris addressed them.

  “June, I need you and Tom to take the earliest commercial flight tomorrow. Go first class. I want you to make arrangements to get as much cash as we need to pay a ransom and make it ready for quick transfer to Las Vegas. Tom, I need you to open the new headquarters and use the computer equipment we had installed. We may need information fast, and we need some fast communication from home here at the suite. Rox, can you stick around? We may need a back up for Dan. I have a feeling a trained police officer will be valuable.”

  They all looked at each other, as though confused at the machine gun-like orders that were being fired at them.

  June spoke first. “I have no problem with that, Paris. But how much money are we talking about?”

  “How much do you think, Dan?” Paris asked.

  “Around a million. More than that’s hard to transport. I think they’ll know that. We can use the excuse that we’re trying to get the money to stall, but we need to have it ready in case they don't want to wait. It’ll need to be wired to Vegas.”

  “What about me?” Tom said. “I need to be back to work –”