“Hard to say really,” Hall answered, “other than often enough that I noticed them coming and going is all.”
Mac turned to Hall and away from the window, “You said you’ve noticed them. What have you noticed?”
“Such as?” Hall asked.
“Men? Women? Height? Weight? What did they look like?”
“I never really got a good look at anyone,” Hall replied.
“How come?” Mac asked, confused.
“I figured you guys were going to ask that,” the man replied, wiping his forehead with a towel and taking a drink of water. “These guys were coming with vans, backing them into the garage and closing the door. Or, they open the door and leave. Nobody ever walked around outside that I can recall. At least not that I ever saw.”
“You never saw them at all?”
“Not really.”
“Detective McRyan asked whether they were men or women?” Riles asked.
“Men, I’d say.”
“Did you ever notice what they were wearing?” Mac inquired.
“Baseball caps for the most part. Dark shirts usually. Sunglasses and…”
Hall paused and Mac looked back at him. “And what?”
The man closed his eyes for a minute. “There was something else now that I think of it. I saw, or I remember seeing, once or twice, and I just thought it was odd since it’s been so hot.” Hall sat still, his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes. After a few seconds, a smile spread across his face, “Gloves. They wore gloves.”
“Gloves?” Riles asked.
“Yeah, when they drove the vans, they had gloves on. You know black leather gloves, like you might wear in the winter.”
Mac and Riles exchanged a quick look. He was maybe onto something. The kidnappers had yet to leave a print behind, and black leather gloves this time of year were unusual. Plus, two other witnesses to the abductions mentioned gloves in their descriptions. Some people liked to wear gloves when they drove, but not many.
“Was it one guy wearing gloves or more than one?” Mac asked.
“Not totally sure. I mean, I couldn’t tell one from the other. I do know that I noticed gloves more than once.”
“So these guys wore dark shirts, hats, and gloves. Anything else?” Mac pressed.
“Not really. At least nothing I recall right now.”
“Just vans?” Riles asked, tacking a different direction.
“Yeah, for the most part. I might have seen a car once, parked in the driveway overnight, but other than that, pretty much just vans.”
Mac looked back from the window. “What kind of vans?”
“Those panel kinds of vans.”
“Get any license plates?”
“No,” Hall answered, shaking his head.
“How about just what states the plates were from?”
Hall shook his head again.
“Always the same vans?” Mac asked, pushing.
Hall thought about that one for a moment. “You know, now that you mention it, I don’t think so. There were different ones, colors, makes, models. Not a bunch, but it wasn’t always the same two either. There was some variety to them.”
Mac sat down in a chair in the corner of the room and started jotting down some notes. Riles continued.
“You mentioned a car. What kind of car?”
“White. I think it was a Taurus,” Hall thought a little more. “Yeah a Ford Taurus.”
“Get a license number?”
“No,” Hall answered. “I didn’t really think anything of it except for those Heather Foxx reports on Channel 12. She was talking about vans being used in those kidnappings, and I noticed these guys coming and going.”
“How about now?” Mac asked. “Are they there now?”
“I don’t think so,” Hall replied, shaking his head. “They’ve been gone a bit.”
“How long?” Riley asked.
“Oh, maybe half-hour, a little more. They left around the time I called in. My wife told me they left anyway. I didn’t see it when they did. My wife said she saw them leave when she came into the bathroom and helped me off the potty.”
Mac looked Mr. Hall over. He was a working man, an electrician, in his mid to upper fifties. The house was neat and orderly, nothing suggested the guy was a kook or anything. The yard around the home was neat, with flower beds and well-trimmed hedges. There were pictures of family around and what appeared to be a grandchild or two. All in all, Hall seemed on the level.
“You need anything?” Mac asked Hall.
“I could use a fresh glass of water,” he replied. “It’s a little hard for me to get to the kitchen at the moment.
“I imagine it is,” Mac said smiling. “We’ll be right back.” Mac led Riles toward the kitchen.
“So what do you think?” Riles asked as Mac opened the freezer and grabbed ice cubes.
“I think this guy is on the level. Could be our guys,” Mac said.
“Maybe,” Riles added. “Vans, different ones, and wearing…”
“Gloves,” Mac finished for him, turning on the tap water. “Witnesses mentioned that yesterday. These guys have been careful all along. We never found any prints off those vans, partly because they blew them up, but also, I bet, because they were wearing gloves. And according to Hall, these guys are wearing gloves. It’s starting to add up.”
“You don’t suppose the girls are over there do you? Buried in the backyard?” Riles asked.
“No. I mean we can go check there in a minute, but unless that video was a huge ruse, no, they’re somewhere else.”
“If these are our guys then, why use this house?”
Mac walked into the living room and peeked through the curtains. “Safe house, maybe. An hour ago we were talking about how they were centrally located, running up to Clearwater one night, Ellsworth the next, then to Duluth. They’d need a central spot to operate from. Maybe this is it.” Mac let the curtains fall closed and walked the fresh glass of water to the bedroom for Hall. Once Hall was taken care of, Mac came back to Riley. “Let’s walk across the street.”
Mac and Riles exited Hall’s house out the back door. Riles quickly walked back to the Explorer, instructing Lich and Rock to slowly pull around the house and to the street, just in case they needed backup.
Mac put his sunglasses on and untucked his shirt so that it covered his Sig. Riles, given his girth, already wore his out. The two detectives walked down the alley at a leisurely pace, turned left, and walked to the street corner. Checking traffic, the two men quickly jogged across the street and then walked north along the sidewalk to the house. They walked up to the front door and knocked. There was no response. Riley tried the doorbell, but again, no response. He pulled the storm door open and peered inside one of the three thin vertical windows in the burgundy front door.
“See anything?” Mac asked.
“Not really. Odd, though.”
“What’s that?”
“No furniture. The place looks empty. The only thing I can see is part of a card table and some folding chairs.”
Mac stepped back and looked at the front picture window. The drapes were pulled shut. The same was true of the rest of the house as he walked around, climbing over the privacy fence to get into the backyard. All the windows were covered with shades or drapes. Mac climbed back over the fence along the south side, where Riles was waiting.
“You notice how the basement windows are painted black?” Pat asked.
“Yeah,” Mac replied. “Nobody is supposed to be able to see inside.”
“So are these our guys?” Riles said, “Or are we so desperate for a break that we’re seeing what we want to see?”
“Only one way to find out,” Mac replied. “We have to go inside.”
Riles flipped open his phone and dialed. “Burton? Riley. We need a search warrant.”
20
Smith checked the rearview mirror non-stop since he had left the safe house. The further the Twin Cities faded away behind him, and the more rolling green fields of soybeans and corn he passed, the more at ease he felt. Nobody had followed he was sure of that now, having doubled back twice and finding no one behind. The police scanner in the passenger seat remained quiet. Perhaps the text message had given them enough time to get some distance from the house before the police connected the dots.