“And your name, sir?”
“Tom. Tom Grayson.”
“Where did the crime occur?”
“Just outside Tracy’s apartment. It’s on Summit Street. Please, you have to send a cop before it’s too late!”
“I will, sir-just a few more questions. Do you know the make and model of the abductor’s vehicle?”
“Yes, it was a late model gold-colored Ford Taurus. It had Ohio plates.”
“Did you happen to get the plate number?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Can you give me a description of Ms. Adam’s abductor?
Tom recalled the man he had seen the night of the original crime. “White, tall and lanky. About 6 feet. Medium build.”
“Hair and clothing?”
“He had really short dark hair, like a burr cut. I didn’t see what he was wearing. Please hurry and get the cops over here!”
“I’ve already radioed the police and they are on their way. You are at 2342 Summit Street, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Did you see which way the vehicle was headed when it fled?”
“East toward North Fourth on Holmes. Then it had to go north on Fourth since it’s a one-way street. I’m not sure where it went from there.”
“Fine, sir. Please stay where you are until the police arrive.”
“Okay. But please hurry!”
The operator disconnected and Tom started to shut down the phone. Then a thought occurred to him.
He clicked on the button for contacts and saw that there was one solitary listing…
Tracy’s cell phone number!
Excitedly, he pressed the send button. He brought the phone to his ear and heard it ring once. Then twice. A third time Suddenly, he heard Tracy’s hushed voice, muffled and weak.
“The campus bee-”
There was a rustling noise and what sounded like a struggle as the line suddenly went deadly silent.
“Tracy! Can you hear me? It’s Tom!”
No reply. Suddenly a message appeared on the tiny screen: “call disconnected.”
Tom hit “send” again. After a single ring, he got Tracy’s voicemail.
Shit!
Tom closed the phone and repeated her words. “The campus bee”
What the hell had she started to say? Bee-fricking what? She was apparently giving her location. But what started with “bee?”
The other mystery was which campus she was referring to. Ohio State University was almost exclusively the college referred to whenever the term “campus” was used in Columbus. But there was also the slim possibility that she could have meant the Capital State College campus. After all, she was a student there and he taught there. It was one of the few things they had in common, in fact.
Tom strained to think of any bars, restaurants or other popular venues that began with “bee” on either campus. He couldn’t come up with much-in fact, he couldn’t come up with anything at all. It was frustrating because every second he sat there doing nothing, Tracy was getting closer to god only knew what kind of trouble He had to go now. Screw the cops. There was no way he was going to just sit here with his finger up his ass while Tracy was clearly in imminent danger.
Especially now that he had something to go on.
He stuffed the phone into his coat pocket and headed for the door.
CHAPTER 22
As Tom drove along High Street, he was relieved to see that there were some lights on in the businesses lining Columbus’s main artery. This was little solace, though, because he still felt as desperate and alone as he had in his dream. He actually considered calling Peg just to hear her voice, but immediately dismissed the idea. That would only compound his problems.
Since Ohio State University was nearest Tracy’s apartment, he had decided to begin his search there. Cruising south along the snow-covered thoroughfare, he kept his eyes peeled for any businesses beginning with “bee” on either side of the road. The snow had tapered off to flurries and traffic was understandably light.
He went as far south as Fifth Avenue and turned east, opting to make a sweep up Fourth Street until he was at Lane again. There were only a few businesses along the way-much of this area was comprised of off-campus apartment rentals.
He reached Lane, took a left and headed south on Summit Street. There were a few more businesses among the rental properties but nothing that started with “bee.” He checked the dashboard clock and realized that he had been cruising the streets for nearly fifteen minutes. He wondered what might have happened to Tracy in all of this time-if she were even alive now. The feelings of frustration and remorse were palpable as he determined to wrap up his search on OSU’s west campus before heading downtown to Capital State.
He checked his fuel gauge and realized he would have to refuel soon if he was going to keep this up any longer. He spotted a BP station, pulled up beside a pump and fished through his wallet for a credit card.
As he watched the pump’s numbers flicker by at a staggering speed, he questioned whether he had made the right decision leaving Tracy’s apartment instead of waiting for the police. There probably would have been a much better chance of finding her with the cops on his side, he conceded with regret. His sudden impulse to go on this fishing expedition by himself had been a foolish move.
Screw this, he thought. He needed to get back to Tracy’s apartment pronto and let the cops do their job.
He jammed the fuel nozzle back into the pump, screwed on the gas cap and tore off his receipt. Then something on the pump caught his attention.
BP.
This was a campus Bee-Pee gas station. The only campus BP gas station he knew of.
Could this be what Tracy had referred to?
Tom looked around at the rundown housing in the area and hopped back into the Jeep. He sped out onto Summit Street and peeled his eyes for a gold colored Taurus along the street and in the driveways.
He didn’t have to look very far.
He spotted the old Ford just a few houses down from the station, parked in front of a two-story house in poor repair.
Tracy is in there right now! he thought.
His heart pumping hard, he drove past the house until he found a parking space a few doors down and parked the Jeep. He killed the engine and sat for a moment, wondering what to do next. He considered calling the cops, but refrained-he needed to act now, and the sooner the better.
He grabbed the flashlight, got out and walked swiftly down the sidewalk toward the house. As he neared the Taurus, he shone the light on the front bumper, noting that the car had Ohio plates. He slowed down his pace until he came to a narrow walk leading up to the house. He could see a light in one of the second floor windows but the first floor looked dark as pitch.
Not a good sign.
Tom stood there in the darkness a full thirty seconds, not sure what to do next. He could create a distraction of some kind, which might force Tracy’s abductor to think twice about what he was doing or was about to do at least for a moment or two. And then what? Bust into the house like Dog the Bounty Hunter and force the guy to surrender wielding a mini-flashlight as a weapon?
Not.
The cops. He simply had to call them in on this. And pronto.
Tom pulled Tracy’s cell phone out of his coat pocket and punched in 911. Before the operator had time to answer, he heard a scream.
Tracy’s scream He crammed the phone back into his pocket and ran along the side of the house, looking for a possible side entrance to the place. There was none. He sprinted to the rear of the house, jumped the three-foot wire fence and approached the back porch. He saw light coming through a small window in the door. Then he heard Tracy scream again, more faintly this time.
She must be on the second floor, he thought. Facing the street.
Without thinking, Tom threw open the storm door and frantically tried the inner door handle. It was locked. Without hesitation, he held the flashlight like a knife and stabbed at the small window- pane in the door. The glass shattered but barely made a sound. Poking his hand through the opening, Tom groped around until he located the deadbolt and turned it. He used his other hand to turn the doorknob and pushed the door open with his shoulder.