Chapter 9 Point of No Return #2
“Shut up. I’m sleeping,” Aaron grumbled.
“My house. My rules,” A.J. snickered.
Aaron would’ve thrown a pillow at him if he’d had the energy to do so. “Are you always this annoying at bedtime? Oh, wait! I already know the answer to that.”
“Cool. I hope you know the answer to my question, too.” A.J. snickered again. “Why are you wearing such a stupid grin on your face?”
“Am not.” Aaron turned his face toward the wall, a move that wouldn’t last long. He always slept facing the door.
“I’ve got a name for it.” A.J.’s voice brimmed with humor.
“Gimme a break.” Aaron pulled his pillow over his head.
“It’s your well-kissed look,” his roommate informed him.
In a burst of pure annoyance, Aaron mustered the energy to throw his pillow across the room. Despite how tired he was, he didn’t miss his mark.
But A.J. was ready. He caught the pillow before it hit his face and tossed it back in one smooth move.
Aaron shoved it beneath his head and drifted off to sleep before he could think of any more witty comebacks.
A phone call from Luke woke him the next morning, during which he learned that the authorities had yet to locate Uncle Cary. Though neighbors, friends, and Elise had been questioned at length, he hadn’t been seen in twenty-four hours. Unfortunately, Aaron had no additional insight to offer.
As he ended the call, the feeling that something was wrong tightened his gut. Though Uncle Cary didn’t deserve his sympathy, he couldn’t help worrying about him. The way he loved the man wasn’t just something he could stop doing. Criminal mastermind or not, his uncle was family. He always would be.
Aaron tapped the speed dial button for his uncle and lifted his phone to his ear again. It rang a few times and rolled over to voicemail. After the beep, he begged. “Please call me when you get this message.”
For all he knew, his uncle had gone into hiding or left the country altogether.
Or he’s sick. Or injured. Without an arrest warrant in play, that was where Aaron’s mind would’ve gone first. Dropping his phone on his chest, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to be doing more to help out with the manhunt that was underway.
Lying around and doing nothing was never the answer.
Though New York City wasn’t in his jurisdiction, there weren’t any laws against hunting for a missing family member on his own time.
Knowing what he needed to do, Aaron threw his legs over the side of the bed, got dressed, and took care of a few human necessities. Then he made his way to the tiny kitchenette around the corner.
Aurora and A.J. were seated at the bistro, sipping coffee and speaking in hushed tones. At the sight of him, they stopped talking.
They probably thought they were being considerate by keeping quiet while he was sleeping, but he was suddenly sick and tired of being coddled. Yeah, he was recovering from a bullet wound. Yeah, it had slowed him down a bit, but they needed to remain on mission—now more than ever.
He started to speak, but his sister interrupted him.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she exclaimed in a falsely bright voice. “Nice going, Bandit.” She reached for the rescue cat, who was perched like a furry little king on the chair between her and her boyfriend, lifting one of his paws and giving it a high-five.
“You’re hilarious.” Aaron knew she was only trying to cheer him up, but he didn’t crack a smile. What he was about to share with them wasn’t the least bit funny.
“Listen, Uncle Cary is still missing, and he’s not answering my phone calls. I know most folks would assume it’s because he’s on the run, because that’s what thugs do.” But what if he’s not? What if he needs our help? He stared bleakly at his sister, trying to read her thoughts.
“I’m worried, too,” she confessed, lowering Bandit’s paw to the chair.
“I’ve called and texted him a few times myself and gotten nothing but crickets.
” She darted a rueful glance at A.J. as if worried about what he might think of her for caring so much.
“I know what the evidence says, but my heart says he’d find a way to get in touch with us if he could.
We’re security specialists, for crying out loud!
The kings and queens of encrypted messages. ”
“My thoughts exactly.” He debated their options. “Though we’ve been asked to camp on our phones in case he calls, we can take our phones anywhere we go.” They’d already given the authorities the green light to put a tap on them.
“Like New York City?” His sister looked hopeful.
“Yep.” He was glad they were on the same page. “If we can’t catch a flight on such short notice, we can throw our names on the standby list.”
“Count me in.” A.J. waved two fingers.
They pulled out their phones to research flight availability.
“Hold on,” A.J. said suddenly. “One of the guys I work with has a pilot’s license.” He dialed a number and tapped the speakerphone button so the rest of them could listen in. “Hey, Dave! It’s A.J.”
Aaron listened to him request the use of a helicopter, of all things! He exchanged an amazed look with his sister while they waited for an answer.
“Affirmative.” Dave drilled down to the details and gave them a departure time and location.
“Thanks, man. I really owe you.” A.J. disconnected the line. “In case I didn’t spell it out, that was Dave Phillips, one of the owners at Lonestar Security.”
“And he just happens to own a helicopter?” Aurora’s eyes snapped with curiosity and interest.
“Yep.” A.J. looked gleeful. “And he’s got connections that’ll clear the way for us to access the Diamondback office without any issues.”
It was welcome news, indeed. Though the office on Wall Street hadn’t been designated as a crime scene, Aaron and Aurora had been informed that the FBI had tossed the place pretty good.
A.J. stood and circled a finger in the air. “Last person to finish packing is a rotten egg!”
The three of them stood and flew to their rooms. They piled clothing and necessities into a few carry-ons and duffle bags that A.J. provided.
In less than an hour, they were in the air.
Aaron found himself praying to the God he’d never acknowledged before.
His sister had been riding his case to join her and A.J.
at church. He’d always believed in a higher power, but things were getting real.
Maybe there was something to their faith after all.
Never before had he wanted so badly to believe it.
Please keep Uncle Cary safe wherever he is.
He continued to call and text him throughout the flight, but he got the same response as before. Nothing. One by one, his calls continued rolling to voicemail.
Out of sheer desperation, he forced himself to swallow his pride and dial Elise. She didn’t answer, either. It rang off the hook without ever rolling to voicemail, which he found odd.
Aaron leaned his head back against the seat rest, trying to stay calm. With each minute that ticked past, however, the ominous feeling in his gut grew stronger.
They landed in New York City by midafternoon. While Dave met with the FBI, the rest of them drove straight to the home office on Wall Street. The first thing they noticed when they walked through the door was the scent of fresh paint.
The ominous feeling in Aaron grew. He hadn’t been informed of any recent renovations taking place in the building.
Aurora made a bleating noise and rushed to their uncle’s desk. “His chair is turned over.”
Aaron followed and discovered it wasn’t the only thing that had been knocked over. Papers and folders were scattered across the floor behind his desk, and a crack ran down the center of his computer screen.
He bent closer to examine the crack. “The FBI isn’t known for tiptoeing through the tulips.”
“True, but there was also a struggle.” A.J. got on his hands and knees for a closer look. “According to the scuff marks on the tile, something was dragged this way.” He followed the scuff marks on his hands and knees to the nearest interior wall.
A large painting covered it that Aaron didn’t recall being there during his last visit. Granted, it had been several months since he’d paid a visit to the home office.
He strolled closer to the wall in question, and a faint thumping sound met his ears. He initially wrote it off as ambient noise coming from the office below them until it happened again. And again. And again.
It was an erratic sound that didn’t seem to follow any pattern. The scamper of a mouse, maybe? Or something bigger, like a rat? It was an old building, so anything was possible. He moved along the wall, tapping it with his knuckles and pressing his ear against it to listen.
The sounds stopped for a full minute. When they started up again, they were right against his ear. “Check this out!” He beckoned Aurora and A.J. closer.
Aurora pressed her ear to the wall and gasped, growing pale. “Call me crazy, but it sounds like someone’s having trouble breathing!”
A.J. started rubbing the pads of his fingers against the wall, pressing them against the seam between the wall and the baseboard. “Would you look at that?” He held up a finger to show them it was damp with white paint.
“You have got to be kidding me!” Aaron ran to grab an office chair and was about to swing it into the wall, but Aurora’s horrified yelp stopped him.
“If someone is stuck back there, you don’t want to hurt them!”
“Stuck?” He gave her an incredulous look. People didn’t just get stuck behind walls. Not without malicious assistance, that is.
“You know what I mean,” she mumbled. She rummaged through the office and returned with a mop handle and a pair of letter openers. Handing out the makeshift tools, she demonstrated poking small holes in the drywall. They were soon pulling handfuls of it away, revealing a grisly sight.