I stalked back into the house headed straight for Marie. She was in the kitchen talking to one of my parents' old friends. “Ah, Marie, sorry to interrupt but can I speak to you for a second?”
She looked at me warily but followed me out of the kitchen into the main hallway. “Marie, what do you know about Vicky’s trip to New York?” I asked calmly.
Marie became tense and fidgety. “Hon, I think it’s better she tells you,” she said placing a consoling hand on my shoulder.
“Well, that’s it, Marie, I think she is in trouble so I need to know now, I don’t have time to explain, just talk, Vicky told me about Bryce Andrews. What else is there?” I was a little too demanding and Marie was a sweet woman, but if something has happened to my sister I needed to know.
“We know the same thing then, Joe. Your sister hasn’t been in touch with me. She just said that things have been good with her father. Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” she said patting my shoulder. “You know that Tony will always be considered her father, but this was a missing piece to her own puzzle.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. I knew Vicky loved my father like her own and he loved her but the knowledge still hurt. “How does her boyfriend fit in the picture?” I asked.
“I don’t know, hon, Vick only spoke to me briefly, but she said he was smart and handsome and worked for her father. She was so happy in New York, Joe. Things started to look up for her and now with your papa’s death…well, I’m worried for her. Will she be okay? Where is she?” she asked, turning her head around looking for her.
“I’m not sure, Marie, but I need to leave, can you take care of the guests?” I asked. She nodded and I gave her a peck on the cheek. She had been my Mama’s best friend since high school, and she was the closest thing we had to a caring guardian.
I made my way out to the Tracker to make a phone call. I didn’t want the other guests to hear me because no one here knew what I did. As I began to dial a number, I saw Vicky’s cell phone in the cup holder and my stomach sank. I continued to dial the number knowing time was of the essence. “Yeah, Angel, I need you to track a Luc Blanchard…” I bit out.
“I thought you were on vacay, Joe…” Angel laughed into the phone.
“Angel, please, I need to track him, look for credit cards, airports, anything please… this is about my sister,” I explained, as my voice filled with panic. Angel was our in-house computer hacker. If there was someone we needed to find she was the go-to person. “Can you also find out his cell number, I will call him myself.”
“Give me a few, Joe, I’ve located his name, it’s been changed to Lebaum…” she said, as if she’s speaking to herself. I already had that info.
“What else?”
“He’s in New York City, Manhattan to be exact.” Shit, that doesn’t help much.
“Angel, can you check license plate # DREK 530 for me?”
“Damn, Joe, give me a second here, I know I am a genius, but you’re too demanding today…okay… yes…. this is a rental car. It was rented from Budget Rent-A-Car this morning in Thunder Bay….it was rented by a Justice Davies….let me guess, you want me to check who Justice Davies is?” she giggled.
“You got it babe.”
The phone was silent as I waited to hear what she had to say, hoping that this was a good lead. “Shit Joe, Justice Davies was an eighty-four year old man that died in St. Catherine’s last year,” she said regretfully.
“Shit, dead end…did you get Blanchard’s cell?” I asked, clenching the steering wheel too hard. There’s no doubt that someone took Vicky, the question was, do I contact the authorities?
“Here’s Blanchard’s cell, 212-698-7569.”
“Thanks, Angel, you are one helpful girl,” I said then I clicked the phone shut.
I began to dial Blanchard’s number but then I hung up, he probably wouldn’t accept a call from an unknown number. I picked up Vicky’s phone and his number was already in her contacts. Clearly I am slow today. I pressed the number and the phone began to ring…. “Hello,” he answered with a thick French accent.
“Blanchard,” I bit out.
“Who is this?” he asked cautiously.
“My name is Joe Molino, I am Vicky Molino’s brother,” I responded with a deep voice, showing him I meant business and he better not hang up.
“Why are you calling from Vicky’s phone? Is everything okay?” he asked with a concerned tone. He hadn’t been shown on record to have any connections with the Blanchard family for the past two years, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t groomed and raised by them.
“Yeah, Blanchard, someone just upped and took her right off the street using a rental car with a fake name,” I explained. He began muttering in French, I was assuming it was expletives of some sort.
“My fucking father….he’s here in New York. He has come to bring me back to France. My brother was recently shot and killed…” he explained. I knew all this already. “My father wants me to come back into the family business. He knows I was dating your sister, he must have taken her to ensure I follow through on his orders.”
“Look, Blanchard, my sister doesn’t know this but I work for the DEA. I know exactly who you and your family are…I don’t plan on losing her, so start talking….”
Luc went on to tell me about the current threat and how his family summoned him back to France.
“Listen, Joe, I am coming to Thunder Bay. Whoever took her won’t be able to cross the border with her too easily. You should scan the area motels,” he suggested. I could tell that he was furious and trying to rein in his anger. I wasn’t sure if he was one of the good ones, but I knew he’d been close with my sister.
I called the Canadian police and we put out a search for a stolen black Mustang, hopefully it wouldn’t get too far. It was still too early to file a missing person report, but we could at least get a location on the car. I also anticipated that whoever took her would keep her within the Canadian border since it would be hard to get her across. I was completely out of my jurisdiction and I was on vacation leave, this was just bad.
Luc said he was getting on the first plane to Thunder Bay, and that he would call his father and find out what’s going on. I began to drive around the city looking for the Mustang, but I knew they had probably gotten far enough by now.
Vicky’s cell phone rang and Luc’s name came up on the screen. “Yeah, Joe, I spoke with my father…” he drawled and I could tell by his defeated tone that this wasn’t good. Dammit. I hit the steering wheel, I needed to bury my father in two days, and I couldn’t let anything happen to her.
“What is it, Luc, spit it out.”