CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“I think we’ve made some progress. I’m starving.
Don’t suppose you want to pick up lunch?
” Mitch and Adam had been holed up in his office for hours.
When Maggie hadn’t come in, he’d gone to check on her and found her and the cat snuggled up on his couch, both sound asleep.
He’d covered her with a blanket and tiptoed back to his office.
She didn’t need to be involved in the nitty-gritty of this anyway.
“Sure, I’ll get lunch. Right after you tell me what’s going on with you and Maggie,” Adam said.
“Huh? What’s that?” Mitch pretended not to hear.
“You know damn good and well what I mean. You slept with her. What are your intentions when this is all over?”
“Christ, what are you, her dad?” he complained. “She’s a big girl, and she knows what she’s doing. In fact, Mr. Smarty Pants, it was her idea.”
“Really?”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised. I’m quite a catch.” There was a short pause before they both burst out laughing.
“Let’s eat. We’ll talk about this later,” Adam said sternly, giving Mitch his best I’m watching you look.
“Hey, Mags. Adam says he’ll get lunch. What are you in the mood for?” Mitch hollered as he made his way to the kitchen. “Mags?”
He froze after reading the note on the counter. They have Steph at the store. I had to. I’m sorry. Maggie (12:30 pm)
“I’m coming,” Harold said in Maggie’s small voice.
“Oh, fuck!” Mitch plowed a hand through his hair.
Adam came up behind him and read the note. “Shit. Shit. Shit. I’ll go now. You stay here!”
“How can I stay here? She just left to give herself to a crazy murderer!”
“Hear me out. They’ll use her as leverage to get to you. You’re the bigger fish. If you waltz right into their arms, they have no reason to keep her alive. Think about it for a second,” Adam said rationally.
“Okay. I see the logic. But what if they hurt her? I swear to God, Adam, if they lay one finger on her, any of them, they’re all dead.”
“I get it. I know. We’ll find her. They must have threatened her not to tell or bring anyone.
If we call for backup, we could blow everything.
She left thirty minutes ago, so they’re probably long gone from the store, but I’ll head down there and find out what I can.
If they left Steph, and she’s still there, I’ll talk to her and get as much information as I can. ”
“Oh, God. All right. Go. I’ll call Morrison and get the tracker activated.” Mitch went to open the front door and noticed his knife missing from the entryway table. “Hey. I think she took my pocketknife. It was right here, next to my gun.”
“That was good thinking on her part. If she can keep it hidden, it might come in handy.”
“True.”
“All right. I’ll call as soon as I know something. I’ll let you know if I see anyone watching your building, too.”
After Adam left, Mitch ran for his phone to call Morrison, the detective who had lent him the tracking device.
“I’m not on duty, man. It’ll take me over an hour to get to the office.”
“Is there anyone else who can track it? I don’t have time to wait,” Mitch pleaded.
“Honestly, Mac, no one knows I gave it to you, and I could get in big trouble if they did. Plus, you’ll have to get permission to turn it on. It’s useless unless it’s activated.”
“If I call the LT and clear it, is there anyone else who can track it?”
“You can ask whoever’s working and see. The device I gave you is an older one. Some of us know how to track it, but not everyone. I’ll head back to town now, just in case. Shit, dude, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d actually use the thing.”
“Neither did I. I’d have purchased a top of the line one myself if I thought it was truly needed. Damn it. Anyway, thanks, man. And please hurry.”
Mitch hung up and immediately dialed the LT. He explained quickly and precisely what he needed. The LT gave him the okay to have the device turned on and tracked.
“So, you’ve been using your time off to protect this woman? That’s mighty nice of you.”
“Turns out she’s a family friend. The reason we didn’t say anything about the threat at her apartment, or try to arrange for police protection, is because we’re pretty sure there is someone on the inside leaking information.”
“Well, shit. Any idea who?”
“Unfortunately, no. It has to be someone that knows Maggie identified Manuel, which she did that day I punched Adam in the lobby. The only officers in the lobby were Wilson, Garcia, Mathison, and Davis. Adam talked to them, but said they all seemed clean.”
The LT was quiet for several seconds. “There was someone else in the lobby that day,” he said slowly.
“What? How do you know? Who?” Mitch spat out the questions in rapid succession.
“Lance. He’s the one that told me about you hitting Adam. He came straight up right after it happened and told me as if he’d witnessed it firsthand.”
“I thought he’d left. Fuck.”
“Yeah, fuck.” The LT sounded dejected.
“LT, you can’t say anything to him. I’ve got to find Maggie as soon as possible, and since the damn tracker may be useless, he might be my best hope right now.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, MacDonald.”
“You know me…” Mitch forced a chuckle.
The LT groaned. “Yeah, I do. You want me to get SWAT together and have them on standby?”
“Yes. I’ll be in touch. Thanks, LT.”
He called the detective’s line to find out if anyone working knew how to track the device Maggie had. After talking to the fourth one, he figured Morrison would be back before he could find anyone that knew their head from their ass.
“Look, just have Morrison call me as soon as he has something.” Mitch hung up exasperated.
He called Adam but only got his voicemail. He left a hasty message to “call him as soon as fucking possible.” Next, he called the store, but no one answered there, either.
Finally, he called dispatch. Time to pay his old friend a visit.
“Mind if I sit here?” Mitch asked as he sat. The bar was old and musty, its wood-paneled walls saturated with smoke and dreams. The jukebox played a bluesy tune for nobody but the bartender and one sad soul.
This wasn’t the kind of place where you came to pick up chicks. This wasn’t even the kind of place where you came to get drunk fast. This was the kind of place you came to if you had a gambling problem and wanted to find a bookie that would happily take your money, no matter what the bet.
“Shit.”
“Thought you might say that.”
“What do you want?” Lance continued to stare into his drink. He looked haggard and miserable. Three of his five fingers had splints on them.
“Manuel has Maggie, and I need to find them. Now.” His tone left no doubt of how serious he was or how far he would go to get the information he needed.
Lance’s head dropped even further. “God, I am a fuck up,” he muttered. “I didn’t want to give her up, I swear. They started breaking my fingers, and I could only take so much.”
“Yeah, well, be that as it may, I need information. You can deal with your other bullshit problems when I go. Where’s Manuel?”
“I swear to God, Mitch, I don’t know. I knew where the old place was but haven’t had contact with him since he cleared out. I thought this was over. I thought I could walk away, but that’s never going to happen.” He seemed on the verge of tears.
Lance pulled out his phone and laid it on the bar between them. “Code to get in is my badge number. Manuel’s number is in the contacts.”
“Your badge number for now.” Mitch didn’t feel one bit sorry for him. Lance had made his bed. He picked up the phone and walked out without another word.
“Okay, so between the tracker and the signal from Manuel’s phone, we’ve narrowed it down to a few blocks. Now what?” Adam asked.
Mitch and Adam were at his kitchen table with a map of New York City spread out between them. Adam had drawn a red circle around the general area where Maggie was most likely being held.
“That’s mostly an industrial area with lots of big buildings. It would take us forever to search it all, not to mention it would be pretty conspicuous. We’d give ourselves away long before finding her,” said Mitch.
“Could we get a better signal on the cell phone tracking if we called him? Or if we got closer to the phone itself?” Adam asked.
They’d used Lance’s phone to get Manuel’s number and then had it traced.
The cell phone company could only tell them the towers it was closest to, though, not an exact location.
“Not according to dispatch. This may be the best we get from the phone,” said Mitch.
“They’re sending plainclothes officers to check the area, but we only have so many.
Morrison did say the tracker would give a better signal the closer we got to it.
We may have to rely on that once we’re on the ground and hope all the concrete doesn’t mess up the signal. ”
Night was falling, and Mitch was starting to panic.
“It’s been hours. If they’re going to use her to get to me, why hasn’t she called?
” He stood and began pacing. “What if they just decide to take me some other time and have already…” He left unsaid what they were both thinking.
In this case, no news was not good news.