Kate made the call, then looked up at him. ‘What’s going on here, Davenport? Who are Reuben Blackwell and Jason Jackson?’
‘Reuben Blackwell is Sweeney’s head of security and Jackson is one of Reuben’s men. If you don’t have them, how do you know about Sweeney?’
‘Figured it out the hard way, obviously,’ she said, starting to walk again. ‘If Sweeney’s in the house, we need to get there too. Two of my team are in there. Rescue operation. Sweeney took a hostage when he shot up the Ledger building.’
‘That’s why I came back. I heard Sweeney had taken a hostage and I thought I might be able to get her out.’
‘Thank you. Tell me about Sweeney’s operation.’
‘Sweeney’s the boss of the trafficking ring. He had three partners – Reuben Blackwell, Demetrius Russell and Joel Whipple.’
‘Demetrius we know about,’ she said. ‘He’s dead, isn’t he?’
Surprise flashed in Davenport’s blue eyes. ‘Yeah. How did you know?’
‘He was stabbed by the young man he tried to murder last night. Phillip Cauldwell.’
‘Oh, that’s not how he died,’ Davenport said darkly. ‘His body is hidden in the big shed along with Sean, Sweeney’s son. Sean tried a coup, but Daddy wasn’t having it. Sean is the IT guy and he’s not quite dead yet. If you can save him, he has access to data you need. He’s the guy who needs the ambulance and the medics need to make him a priority.’
‘Got it. Have you seen Gayle Ennis, Sweeney’s hostage?’
‘No, but if she’s in the house, he’s probably taken her to the basement.’
‘Which is where Bishop and O’Bannion were headed.’
‘The newspaper guy and the detective? They don’t know what they’re dealing with.’
Kate shook her head. ‘They have a real good idea. Where is everyone else? This place is like a ghost town.’
‘Either dead or in jail. They all turned on each other at the end. The accountant, Joel, should be at his house. He’s got the books. All the books.’ He rattled off an address.
Kate called it in. ‘Got it. We’ve got agents on their way. What’s in the little shed?’
‘It’s storage. But the power lines are there.’
‘Did you cut the power?’
‘Yes. I saw you on the security camera when you climbed the tree to check out the compound. I was hoping you were my backup. Did you find the two ankle trackers I left at the Anders place?’
She nodded. ‘That was you too? Where are the three Anderses?’
‘Sweeney killed the parents.’ He drew a slashing line across his throat. ‘Made quite a mess. Did it in front of the daughter.’
‘Stephanie,’ Kate said. ‘What happened to her?’
‘She’s still alive. Sweeney told me to kill her too, but I hid her in the big shed, behind some packing crates. Stephanie Anders. Piece of work, that one. She’s tied and gagged. You can have her. Watch her fingernails,’ he added, disgruntled. ‘They’re lethal.’
Kate bit back a smile. ‘Noted. We have her boyfriend in custody, by the way. Detroit Field Office found him. Drake Connor is his name. He had a flash drive on him with files he’d stolen from Stephanie’s dad – photos that Anders had taken as insurance against Sweeney. Those photos helped us tie Sweeney to Alice Newman.’
Davenport’s smile was vicious. ‘Good. She was the heir apparent, you know. She’s Sweeney’s daughter.’
‘Makes sense. We found photos of them at her college graduation in the background of other people’s pictures.’
‘Facebook?’
Kate nodded. ‘Gotta love it.’
‘When you take Stephanie in, you’ll find a guy named Dave Burton with her – he was Reuben’s second-in-command and was acting as Sweeney’s security head. His hands are dirty too. Sweeney told me to kill him, so I hid them together. Sweeney thinks they’re mush in the pit. As far as I know, he doesn’t suspect me. Yet.’
‘Got it,’ Kate said. ‘Let’s find Sweeney. I want to end this.’
Cincinnati, Ohio
Wednesday 5 August, 11.20 P.M.
Marcus crept down the stairs, stowing his fear at leaving Scarlett alone at the top. She could take care of herself. The knowledge left him free to focus on listening and watching – for Gayle and for the trap he was sure waited somewhere.
The basement was largely underground, but there must have been a couple of small windows somewhere, because a faint light filtered into the dark space below. Marcus put off using his flashlight, aware that it would make him a target if someone was waiting for him. It had been too easy to get into the property, too easy to get into the house.
He made himself go as still as death, listening for inhales, exhales. He heard a sniffling. Not a sob, but more than a sigh. It was coming from the far corner of the basement, the location consistent with that of the cage in the video that Sweeney had sent.
Gayle. She was alive. Relief had his heart racing and his knees going weak.
He crept up to the cage, barely able to make out the outline of her body in the darkness. ‘Gayle,’ he whispered. ‘It’s me.’
He heard a swiftly indrawn breath, then a muffled sob that broke his heart in two. Quickly he pulled the bolt cutters from the backpack and, going by touch, snapped the lock off the cage and carefully set it aside. He pulled the blanket from the pack and opened the cage door, wincing when it squeaked. But no bullets came flying and he heard no other sounds except Gayle’s sobs.
Again using touch, he found the places where she’d been bound and quickly cut the ropes, wrapping her in the blanket and pulling her into his arms. ‘Sshh,’ he whispered, because her sobs had increased in volume. Gently he worked the duct tape from her face, allowing her to drag in a deep breath. ‘You have to hold on,’ he said in her ear, his words mostly exhaled air rather than spoken. ‘Don’t cry. We can’t let ourselves be heard.’
He felt her body stiffen and shake as she valiantly controlled her tears. Shouldering the backpack, he rose with her in his arms and went for the stairs, making it to the top with barely a sound.
He found Scarlett where he had left her, fiercely guarding his safety. Relief filled her eyes when she saw Gayle, but she didn’t say a word. She opened the kitchen door and signaled for him to bring Gayle out. Leading the way, she headed for the exit, pausing in the laundry room to fish the keys to Sweeney’s van from his pocket and give him a quick, bright smile.
Marcus couldn’t smile back. The hairs on the back of his neck were still raised. This had been too damn easy. The other shoe was poised to fall.
As Scarlett opened the door to the garage, the shoe fell. She had no sooner cleared the two short steps down when she was jerked from his view. A split second later, he heard her agonized cry, followed by the clatter of her gun as it fell to the concrete. The gun slid into view, evidently kicked away.
His mind racing, Marcus took cover behind the open door, pressing his body to the laundry room wall and gathering Gayle closer to his chest.
‘Mr O’Bannion.’ The voice came from inside the garage, to the left of the open door. It was the man who’d called him, taunting him about Gayle. The man who’d shot his brother and killed Cal. Greasy and smug, the voice sent Marcus’s stomach roiling. ‘How lovely of you to visit me. If I’d known you were coming, I’d have planned more of a welcome.’
‘Go to fucking hell, Sweeney,’ Scarlett said, her breath coming in shallow pants. ‘He didn’t come with me.’
Sweeney had hurt her. Marcus wasn’t sure what the bastard had done, but he could hear the pain in Scarlett’s voice.
‘Oh please, Detective,’ Sweeney said. ‘Of course he came with you. I’m surprised you’re here. I’ll give you that. But whether here or at the designated meeting place, the result will be the same. I won’t be leaving any of you alive.’