Chapter 33 #2
The meeting had been informative, including a lot of innuendo and links that tied some of his suspicions together.
He was grateful. He was angry. He was ready to take this case forward a whole lot of steps.
At the same time, part of that investigation would be decided by the Crayton Police Department.
JB’s phone rang and he accidentally pushed the speakerphone button as he answered. “Hey, Marcy, what are you—”
“Help me, JB. Help.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but the intensity said everything loud and clear.
“Where are you?”
“I’m hiding among the cars at the dealership.
I just came back from Pete’s Soda Fountain after picking up root beer for the three of us.
Something’s wrong here. There’s a black SUV parked at the back door, and a black Gladiator I’ve never seen before, with the top removed.
And there’s a strange man walking around dressed in all-over camo…
carrying a long rifle, with a ski mask over his face. ”
Everyone in the room was on their feet in a flash. After everything they’d learned in the meeting with Earl Millerton, this was a rocket launch to the next level.
“We’re on the way.” JB checked his gun and motioned the others in the room to circle up and move out. “Stay where you are. Understand, Marcy?
“Hurry. Please hurry. I thought I heard—”
Pop! Pop-pop-pop!
Everyone in the office stopped. Listened. The phone seemed to take on a life of its own. One that blared through the air like a crack of lightning, over and over and over.
JB headed toward the door as Cain and Truman followed close behind. Kennett notified the SWAT team and grabbed his own SWAT gear. Office protocol fell into place as Officer Hastings grabbed the two-way and alerted other officers on duty to be ready to assist.
“Do you hear that?” Marcy’s voice broke with fear and worry. “Do you?”
“Yes, I hear.” JB walked faster. His expression rigid with the look of a person focused on the job at hand.
“Wait a minute. The back door’s opening,” Marcy whispered.
“There’s a guy in a bomber-style camo jacket…
holding on to Betsy as they come out. She’s fighting back and—” Marcy sucked in a shocked breath.
“He…he just knocked her to the ground. A grey-haired man in a black overcoat and…and Papa C keep shouting at her. Pointing back at the office doorway. The masked guy in head-to-toe camo is walking toward the back door.”
Marcy’s voice quivered as she snuffled quietly. “Betsy’s shaking her head. Pleading. She’s trying to stand back up. Pumping her hands as if trying to calm people down. The guy in the overcoat just said something to the man in the mask and motioned him to the driver’s seat in the SUV.”
“Stay quiet, Marcy!” JB shouted. “Climb under a car and stay absolutely quiet.”
“I will. I will.” She grunted. “Papa C is in the SUV’s passenger seat. The guy who drug Betsy out the door has shoved her in the passenger seat of the Gladiator. Looks like—”
“Get under the car. Now!” JB commanded in a tone he’d normally never use with his wife.
“I’m trying.” She grunted. Grunted again and again. “I’m under a maroon van. All I can see from here is them driving away.”
“We’re on the way. Stay where you are even when I get there. Have you seen Summer?”
“No.”
JB notified Kennett of the possible hostage situation, then glanced in Cain’s direction, raised his eyebrows in question.
Cain nodded in return. He’d gotten that loud and clear.
Summer was missing. Marcy was hidden. Betsy had been taken.
They were all on the same mission, mindset and messaging.
Yet, at the same time, they each had a specific goal.
“Let’s go.” JB shoved open the side door leading out of the police station. All the years of training were working like clockwork.
Cain had felt the moment JB had gone on lawman alert.
Followed by the moment fear for his wife had catapulted the whole scenario in the office.
Cain had had the same reactions himself.
Betsy might not be his wife, but she was the person he’d promised to protect…
the one he planned to marry someday. Hell, Betsy was everything to him.
Somehow, she’d become more important to him than life itself. There were no questions to ask regarding police protocols or backup or anything else. JB and the others would handle all those specifics. For him, only one thing mattered. He bolted out the front door, headed for his truck.
Truman ran right behind him, making a phone call. “Sadie, no time for questions. Safe room. Now! I’m on the way.”
As Cain jumped into his truck, ready to pull out, Truman pulled his Range Rover up beside him and rolled down his window.
“I’m headed home to Sadie.” Truman said. “You and JB are the front line now. You got this?”
“I’ve got this!” Cain had never said anything he’d been more sure of in his life. “Tell Sadie she can count on me. I will bring Betsy home.”
As Truman turned toward his house, Cain floored his truck, fishtailing through the few patches of slushy snow melting in today’s unseasonably warm and sunny weather.
JB flew past, lights flashing on the speeding police car as they made a silent approach.
No more shots had been heard, but they were still approaching as if they were under attack.
The couple minutes needed to reach Peyton’s seemed a lifetime
Enroute, over the police band radio, and once on-sight, Cain listened to JB shouting commands without hesitation—ordering lockdown of schools and the surrounding area, sending SWAT into both buildings, police at every entrance and a perimeter established for the public, requesting backup from surrounding communities and the state.
Patrolman Hastings was assigned to find Marcy under the maroon van.
The rest of them followed police procedures once the SWAT teams entered the buildings.
Cain had stayed directly on Kennett and his SWAT team, following his lead as he tracked from room to room. The man had seen plenty of action in SWAT team tactics back in Illinois. And from what Cain was seeing, he hadn’t dropped a step in procedure, leadership and courage.
A sudden banging echoed from Betsy’s office. Kennett and Cain quickly narrowed in on the source of the loud and forceful thuds coming from inside the office. The door to the storage room was blocked by furniture and a couple of boxes, but the noise was coming from inside.
“Crayton Police. Put down the weapon and step back,” Kennett shouted as he kept his own weapon trained toward the sound on the other side of the wall. He clicked his communication button and alerted JB of their location.
Cain banged his fist against the wall, then shoved the table aside. “Who’s there?”
“Summer!” she shouted as she kept banging at the drywall. “The door’s jammed.”
“Anyone else?”
“No.” She started banging against the wall once again. Suddenly, the end of a three-hole punch jabbed through.
Kennett grabbed the end of the improvised escape tool and held on. “I’ve got you. Hang on. I’ve got you, Summer.”
JB joined Kennett and Cain as they shoved boxes and anything else blocking the door out of the way. But the lock had malfunctioned, and the door was stuck.
“Door ram!” Kennett shouted to his SWAT team backup. “Step away from the door, Summer. Now!”
As if already waiting for the order, one of the SWAT members handed him the Enforcer. With a single blow to the door, Kennett had it open. He was met by a trembling, panting Summer, trying to get out through the open doorway as she handed him a stapler along with the three-hole punch.
“Where’s Betsy?” she asked, pushing to get past all of them and to a bottled water sitting on the edge of the desk. She opened it and poured the water over her head.
“One of them took her.” Cain stepped aside to give her room. “Are you okay?”
Motioning that she needed a moment to regroup, she pushed her now wet hair back from her face. “I don’t do well in confined spaces.”
He felt the tightening of his chest. Didn’t want to stand and listen. Didn’t want to make a plan. Didn’t want to report to someone else. But JB was in charge, and he’d follow his lead. Deputy Evans had already called for drones, choppers and contiguous counties backup.
Kennett called an all-clear on the SWAT team while JB radioed the policeman who was with Marcy, said she could come inside now.
Even before the police had entered the dealership, Deputy Evans had been working with a team of officers, contacting the highway patrol and even news stations for coverage.
Using the descriptions Marcy had given them earlier, they had been able to get some APBs out.
She’d even been able to film enough on her cell phone to get a partial license plate on the black SUV.
“Now, tell us exactly what happened inside, Summer,” JB said as she straightened up, ready to talk now that the panic had passed.
She relayed everything that had occurred.
Even down to minute details at times. Her background in private investigation served her well.
“Once Betsy motioned me into the storage room, I made it a point to be quiet and still. The interior isn’t finished so there’s only the one layer of drywall.
Made it easy for me to hear what was going on.
That’s when I heard someone say to call them Mr. Partner, and he referred to someone else as James. ”
Kennett handed Summer another bottle of water, then pulled up photos from their meeting with Earl Millerton.
She once again pour some over her head and chugged down the rest, as she nodded yes to each of the photos.
. “At one point it sounded like they were heading down the hall to the back door. Betsy kept yelling that she was not going to Papa C’s with them. Then they faded out of my hearing.”
Cain’s insides exploded with pride. His Betsy was doing good. Thinking on her feet. Leaving him clues to find her. That’s all he needed—the trail. ’Cause he would find her, even if it took the rest of his life. “Anything else?”
“Then all of a sudden, I could dimly hear them again. There’s a vent in the storage room that must be connected to the heating system that runs throughout the building.
That’s when things seemed to get a little jumbled.
I can’t remember exactly what it was, but something Betsy said made me think they had told her there’d been a contract on our dad years ago. Does that make sense?”
“From what the police found out during the past hour, it makes a lot of the pieces fall into place.” Cain couldn’t believe so much had been happening in and around Crayton all these years.
Thanks to Summer and Marcy, they at least had a start.
Papa C, Mr. Partner, James—the man from the photo Kennett had shown Millerton earlier—and one other thug involved in this abduction had already fled the scene.
Fled with Betsy riding alone in the Gladiator being driven by James—at least, that’s what they could assume from calls coming in to the station of possible sightings.
The other three men were in the black SUV.
The back door opened and Marcy ran into JB’s arms and held on as if her life depended on feeling him close.
The second person Marcy hugged was Summer.
And within seconds Truman walked into the room with Sadie close behind him.
She bundled her daughters tight against her, tears running down her cheeks.
Slowly she lifted her head to make eye contact with Cain. “Where’s Betsy?”
“We’re working on that. JB’s got a lot of incoming information, and Summer just provided us with more,” Cain said. “I’m sure Truman has already filled you in on what Earl Millerton told us this afternoon.”
She nodded, then pulled Summer and Marcy close again. “Truman, can you take me and my girls home to our house? We need to get out of the way and let the police do their job.”
Truman followed the women toward the door, then turned toward Cain and JB. “Call if there’s anything I can do. Or anything you need. Anything.”
“I’ll send a policeman over for surveillance at your place, also,” JB said as he headed over to tell Marcy goodbye.
Truman shook his head. “No need. I’ve already called in a couple of retired FBI agents to give some backup at the property. You all stay focused on Betsy. And while you’re at it—take down whatever the hell Papa C and this group have been doing to my family…and to Crayton.”
Cain understood what Truman said, but he had one, and only one, priority right now. Find Betsy. And nobody better get in his way. Nobody.
JB answered his ringing phone and immediately headed toward the door, motioning others to follow.
“Spotters saw the SUV headed toward Papa C’s property outside of town.
A black Gladiator followed. Caller said there appeared to be a woman in the passenger seat with her wrist zip-tied to the overhead rail. We’ll head—”
“Hold up a sec,” Deputy Evans shouted. “911 just took a call that the SUV and Gladiator have split up at the three-way junction. SUV headed toward Papa C’s. Gladiator turned the opposite direction. Busted through a fence and tore out cross-country.”
“The Gladiator’s my chase! Nobody better get in my way.” Cain was out the door, in his truck and gone before anyone could tell him no. For the second time today, his gut battled his brain. “Nobody!”