Brian sat back in his chair, bolted forward and stood up. His nerves were raw. He glanced at the clock on his office wall. Five-thirty and the APB hadn’t produced Byer.
Kaden’s smiling face looked back at him from the computer screen. It was the last image Kendall had seen and he couldn’t close it.
Byer must have threatened Kaden to get her out of the station. He was bold. Under the noses of a hundred cops, he’d walked in and taken her. Brian rubbed his eyes and rolled his head back and forth, trying to loosen the tension that had him in knots.
New Orleans was a big place; he could have taken her anywhere.
Frustration hissed through him; he paused at the window for the tenth time in as many minutes. Byer must have known when he left, must have seen him and timed his move perfectly. He’d have to be watching the front entrance.
Brian surveyed the row of old buildings across the street. Brick, most of them. Laced with ornate ironwork, period specific. Shops filled the street level, the balconies above spilled over with potted ferns and flowers in bloom in the afternoon sun.
He studied each structure. The overhead apartments were open. They wouldn’t offer much in the way of concealment. The row was broken by an alley.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The next building was plain, no vegetated balcony, just a flat façade. A doughnut shop occupied the lower floor. The upper window above an awning was barred and the glass was covered with reflective film.
He holstered his gun and pulled on his jacket. It would go along with Byer’s MO to be across the street, walking around above the heads of cops eating doughnuts and conversing below. He was bold, with an ego to match.
Brian ran downstairs and poked his head into Schneider’s office. “I’m going over to Betty’s Place to check something out. Wanna come?”
“I try to stay away from that end of the block.”
“No problem.”
“Hey, Brian?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry Kendall’s life is in jeopardy. I get the impression…”
“She’s more than a witness.”
“Just keep it straight. You’re a good cop. I’d hate to jerk your badge.”
Were his emotions that transparent? “How soon will the feds be here?”
“Anytime. I’ll brief them, see what they can do, but Byer is ours.”
“He’s mine.” Brian hit the front door and took the steps two had a time. Adrenaline surged inside him as he crossed the street and moved into the crowd. He imagined Liam forcing Kendall down the sidewalk. He could feel her fear, taste the scream she must have held in, knowing he would kill Kaden if she dared let it out.
He paused, flattened himself against the wall and skirted the alleyway. He tried to look nonchalant, but his nerves were shot as he peered down the narrow corridor. A flight of metal stairs were anchored to the brick wall. At the top there was a door. Brian scanned the length of the narrow passage, just wide enough for a car. It emptied onto the next street over.
He crossed to the doughnut shop and went inside. A couple of uniformed officers gabbed at a table in the corner. Patrons dotted the floor space, sitting at tables for two. The smell of coffee and fresh deep-fried doughnuts hung in the air. The scents usually woke up his taste buds, but not today.
A woman was behind the counter, sliding a tray of fresh glazed into the display case. She looked up. “What can I get you?”
“Information.”
“Would you like that boxed?”
“Are you the owner?”
“Last time I checked.”
“Do you have a renter upstairs?”
“Yes.”
“Has he got a name?”
“Are you a cop?” Her voice raised an octave.
He pulled his badge. “Littrell, New Orleans P.D.”
“Okay. That works. Never gave me his name. He came in here a couple of months ago, wanted to rent the loft. He flashed some cash and I took it. He’s quiet. I haven’t seen him since he moved in.” She paused, then said, “But I did hear some commotion up there this afternoon. I don’t know what he was doing.”
“Tall? Dark hair?” Brian’s insides tied in knots.
“Yep.”
“You got a key to the side door?”
“No. He installed a dead bolt, but for the kind of money he gave me for the room, he can do whatever he wants.”
Brian’s thoughts cruised at a hundred miles an hour. Kendall could be up there right now. He turned and walked to the uniforms’ table. “Officer Littrell. I need you both as back-up. We’ve got a possible kidnap victim upstairs.”
They both stood up, their coffee and half-eaten doughnuts forgotten.
“There’s an APB out on this guy. He’s armed and dangerous.”
Brian led the way out the front door and they slipped around the corner into the alley. Brian dialed Schneider. “I think I found him. Across the street in the room above Betty’s Place. Hurry.”
The pull of restraint yanked on him, but he couldn’t wait. He looked up the stairs at the door and upholstered his weapon. “Let’s go.” His feet on the metal steps made very little noise, but the officers behind him sounded like elephants. There’d be no element of surprise.
Brian reached the door just as Schneider rounded the corner. He stopped in the alley below, pulled his gun and nodded to Brian.
Brian rapped the door with his fist. “Byer. New Orleans Police. Open the door.” No response. “We’re coming in.” Brian tried the handle, it turned in his hand. In surreal time, he stepped through the door and searched the dimly lit room over his pistol sight. It was empty. His heart dropped through his stomach.
“All clear.” He turned to the two officers on the landing. “You can go back to Betty’s. Schneider will assist.”
They put their guns away and pounded down the stairs.
Schneider was joined by a couple of other detectives and they came up the stairway. “I’ve got CSI on the way. If there’s forensic evidence in here, we’ll get it.”
He stepped back into the room. It was definitely Byer’s hold-up. It reeked of cigar smoke and covered any hint of Kendall’s light floral perfume. But he smelled her in his mind, remembered her fragrance as if he held her now. His throat tightened as memories of last night surfaced.
Schneider stepped into the room and left the other detectives outside on the landing. “We’ve got to protect this scene, Brian.”
His gaze settled on a patch of blood, dark crimson against the white pillowcase. He moved in for a closer look, his heart pounding in his ears.
Strands of long dark hair were matted in the dried blood. Kendall’s hair. Kendall’s beautiful hair. Rage roared through him. “It’s her blood, Ben. That’s her hair.” He closed his eyes to beat back the horrific images that clouded his mind and threatened to consume him.
“We don’t know that, not until forensics can take it to the lab.
“No damn lab has to confirm it for me.”
“There’s not enough there to prove anything. Pull yourself together or you’re out of here.”
Brian digested Schneider’s words. He’d been at enough crime scenes to know what he meant. The volume of blood on the pillow wasn’t fatal, but the hair mixed in with it indicated a head wound. He took a deep breath and avoided the sight of the rumpled sheets. He couldn’t let the thoughts that went along with that image hammer his mind into submission.
Stepping to the window, he looked outside. The curtain lay on the floor, still on the rod. Brian studied the glass, pulled a pen out of his pocket and tapped it. “Bulletproof. Tinted.” He saw the spotting scope sitting on the sill. “He’s been watching for a while. At least two months according to the landlady downstairs.” Brian looked closer at the surface of the window. A smudge of fingerprints were on the glass.
“Look at this. A couple of prints.”
“Good ones. We’ll make sure they get lifted.”
Turning away from the window, he avoided the surface of the bed. He couldn’t live with the thought of what might have happened on it. He’d kill Byer if he’d touched her.
“You better take off, Brian. Let me work this. You’re too close. Get your head straight and come in tomorrow.”
He looked into the bathroom. Tomorrow? Hell, he couldn’t even believe there would be a tomorrow without her. His reflection stared back at him; he stepped closer and caught a glimpse of something on the medicine-cupboard mirror. He clicked on the light with his knuckle.
The letters BG were traced on the glass. They were formed by some sort of clear liquid. Brian looked down at the bottle of soft soap next to the sink. “That’s my girl.” The air caught in his throat. She was always thinking, always challenging him to think harder.
“What’d you say, Littrell?”
“BG. That’s where he’s taken her.” Chilled calm took shape inside of him. His gut told him she was still alive. Byer wanted him to witness her pain firsthand, in person.
“So what are we waiting for, an invitation?”
As long as he held back and stayed away, she’d continue to live. It was a desperate game he planned to play.
“He expects me to charge in and leave my brain in the car. The minute I get close enough to take him, he’ll kill her.”
“If that’s your spin on things, I want you to talk to Dr. Rand in psychology. They can put a profile together on this sick bastard.”
“I don’t need a shrink to lay it out. Byer is my shadow, my nemesis. Has been since high school. The scary part is, I encouraged him. His home life was hell on earth, an abusive mother, nonexistent father…he showed up in an at-risk youth program my dad spearheaded. We tried to help. Pushed him mentally and physically in academics and sports. Natalie came along while we were at LSU. She was hot on Liam. He fell for her, but I liked her, too. The competition got brutal…I just never guessed how obsessed he was.”
Brian shook his head. The air in the room felt heavy, along with his heart. “I loved her, Ben.” He looked into his friend’s eyes and saw sympathy. “But that love signed their death warrants.”
“Don’t do this, buddy. Strolling down memory lane with a wacko like Byer will make you crazy.”
“It’s okay. I’ve made my peace with the past--I’m moving on now. It’s Kendall I have to save. She’s innocent. Tossed into this sick scenario by Byer. I’d bet my life he stole the 944 from her, knowing it would be easy to sacrifice a McKinley. Who’d believe a car thief had their car stolen? Poetic justice.”
“That’s great. I’m glad you have it all figured out, but mental crime solving has to be backed up by evidence. I’ve got Special Agent Monroe over in my office. He wants you to wear a wire.”
“I can try to get him to confess to money laundering, but I’m there for Kendall.”
“Enough said. We’ll give him his inside sound bite. He’ll have to hope Byer says something he can use.”
“I think I know where he is.”
“Maybe you’d like to share?” Ben glared at him.
“Otis Whittley’s place. He doesn’t think I’m smart enough to find him, so he’ll pick a place I know, just to make sure I show up. He’s after gratification. Nothing else matters.”
Excitement and worry churned his insides. Was he calling Byer right? Had he decoded his screwed-up logic until it made sense in a crazy sort of way?
“She’s still alive. I can feel it.” It was really his heart he knew was tethered with hers. He wanted to whisper to her again in the darkness, in the heat of stolen kisses, in the slow burn that came from connected souls.
“I hope you’re right, son.”
Relentless by Erin
