About 9:00 p.m.
Shane took only a moment to suit up again for the storm. Since Jeff’s flimsy disposable poncho was already ripped in places, it took him a bit longer. Both got drenched dashing for the car. The interior of Tanya’s Beetle was also soaked.
Shane placed his three larger objects on the floorboard between his boots.
When Jeff turned north through the flooded intersection with Dock Road, water sprayed up around them like they were skiing.
It was Shane’s first time inside one of the new Beetles. “Nice ride.” He hadn’t intended sarcasm, but somehow it sounded that way.
“Tanya had it before we got married.” Jeff shrugged. “Not my color, but it drives okay.”
“A ride’s a ride. It’s all good.”
Shortly, Jeff turned east on Highland Drive, headed for one of three significant highways going into downtown.
It would have been pitch dark even without the heavy downpour. Several neighborhoods obviously still had power, but a few other blocks did not. It was especially gloomy after Jeff turned north on Highway 266 and they neared the old downtown section. Who laid out the power grid in Verde-town?
Jeff stopped for a flashing traffic light at the intersection with Canal Drive. Judging from the street lamps and building security lights, the old commercial area to their east was one of the few sections surrounding old downtown which still had power. He must have noticed the frown on Shane’s face. “New problem?”
“Just wondering why Ricks is even involved in this. It’s way out of his league.”
The vehicles in front slowly cleared the intersection and Jeff finally accelerated. “Surely, it’s because he could I.D. both you and Beth and also knew about the suitcase.”
“But why bring Ricks all the way from the coast?” Shane rubbed his forehead. “Why not just hire a local thug?”
“Not sure how to broach this, but here goes. Was there ever anything between Beth and Ricks?” Jeff cleared his throat hurriedly. “I mean besides when she conked him on the head with that brick.”
Shane was floored. He’d never heard this story. “Whoa. Back up. What brick? When?”
“Don’t know when it happened, but Beth told Connie and me about it. Basically, Ricks made a move on her when you were gone somewhere and she busted his head with a brick from her bookcase. Still has the brick.”
Shane’s frown turned slowly into a grim smile. “That girl’s got fire.”
“Beth said that she’d never told you.”
“She knew I’d probably kill him.” Shane stared out to the pouring darkness. “So, why’d you tell me now?”
“Before you go charging in there, I figure you should know that Ricks may have his own agenda with Beth... besides whatever he’s been hired for.” Jeff gulped. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I need to know.”
Except for sloshing windshield wipers and the clumpedy-clump over railroad tracks, silence accompanied the next mile. North of the tracks, the road signs indicated Adams Street instead of South Highway 266.
“So this dumpster diver... what’s he actually like?”
“Ricks is a skinny, short, scraggly meth head. He can half-way follow simple instructions when he’s half-way sober... if he keeps repeating them to himself. But he’s scared of me and that’s good for both of us.”
“But you’re not scared of Ricks.” There was no interrogatory in Jeff’s statement.
“Only about what he might do to Bethany... so in that sense, I’m terrified.”
In the darkness, Jeff appeared to shiver.
“Ricks is mostly a known enemy.” Shane broke the silence. “Wish I knew something about the other one.”
“You figure just one more involved?”
Shane nodded. “Probably. It doesn’t feel like the kind of operation with a lot of personnel.”
The vehicle stopped for a flashing red light at the intersection with Main Street, on the eastern edge of old downtown. That area’s power was also out. “Hotel’s up ahead... four blocks.” Jeff pointed north into the darkness. “This other guy... what are you guessing?”
“Definitely a professional, but he chooses to work with amateurs. He hired both Ricks and the idiot that broke into Bethany’s. But the pro had to fly out to Long Beach to find Ricks.”
“That’s one of many parts that still puzzle me. This pro... how did he make a connection to California? And how on earth did he find Ricks?”
“I figure he’s been working on the same puzzle we’ve been... only from different angles. You and Bethany and Connie began with what was inside the overnighter. Plus all the extra things you brought in, like the newspaper article.”
“Yeah, our team has pulled together a pretty comprehensive collection of data.” Jeff seemed justifiably proud.
“But this pro worked it from some other direction... not knowing what our team had discovered and never having even seen the suitcase.”
“True. But he certainly found out about it... somehow.”
“Likely from Ricks.” When Shane shifted in his soggy seat, the crowbar clanged on the floorboard. “Remember, Ricks was one of the divers who recovered it.”
“Ricks and his new boss have been willing to do just about anything to get that overnighter back.”
“And the only way we can figure out why is to know who this pro is working for.” Shane looked toward the dark-skinned driver in the darkness. Not much was visible from the dashboard’s dim light. “Whoever hired the pro is terrified of something in that suitcase... and this pro doesn’t mind leaving a lot of collateral damage to get hold of it.”
“Are you scared of him?”
“I have a healthy apprehension of his likely capabilities...”
“Bikers aren’t supposed to talk like that.”
“Oh?” Shane couldn’t restrain a tiny grin, in spite of himself. “How are blacks supposed to talk?”
“Touché... again.”
“Stereotypes.” Shane stared through the windshield as the wipers slammed back and forth. “How much farther?”
“Right there.” Jeff pointed at the corner of Madison and Fourth. It had taken about twenty minutes to get there from Beth’s place. “Would’ve taken half as long without the storm. You prefer front or back?”
“They might expect me to come in the front.”
“So, we’ll go to the back.” Jeff turned right on Fourth and then took the next left on Washington.
Shane stopped him after they cleared that intersection. “See anything?”
“Just the dark, the rain, and the wind.” Also occasional thunder and lightning.
“See any cars?”
In the headlights, one other vehicle was visible—a white coupe in the far corner of the east side of that square block. Practically all the way to Fifth Street.
“That’s gotta be Bethany’s Shadow. So Ricks probably already dumped his stolen wheels... most likely in Bethany’s neighborhood.”
“Wonder where the pro stashed his ride?”
Shane squinted into the dark, pouring rain. “What’s on these nearby streets? Any places to hide a car or truck?”
“In this part of town, you could hide just about anything in plain sight.” There were scattered vehicles in parking lots across all four boundary streets. They could be seen clearly, albeit quite briefly, when the periodic lightning flashed.
“So, any of those trucks or cars out there could be the pro’s.”
Jeff nodded in the darkness.
Both were silent as each surveyed the darkened square block with the huge abandoned facility in the middle. Just as Jeff had said, the entire perimeter was fenced and locked.
Shane could barely discern the building’s outline in the darkness. “Give me a thirty second breakdown of the interior layout.”
“I’ve only seen pictures... never been inside. It was already abandoned when I moved here.” But Jeff related what he knew. Then he shivered slightly. “You know, I’ve passed by this place a lot. Doesn’t seem nearly this spooky during daylight.”
Shane just grunted and changed the subject. “How much does your wife know? Does she realize Bethany’s missing?”
“Yeah, but Tanya figures Beth just left town on her own... to get away. I don’t think she believes any of this is as serious as we do. She’s staying over at her mom’s tonight ‘cause the blood pressure is so high. Her mom’s.” Jeff’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “But I never got a chance to tell her about the granddaughter’s murder.”
“Your wife needs to know that... and where you are.” Shane poked his shoulder. “Call... and tell her we’re picking up Bethany downtown.”
Jeff fumbled with his cell phone and texted something. Maybe he couldn’t speak to a loved one right now with a steady voice. He pressed send and put away the phone.
Shane had watched silently. “You okay?”
Jeff nodded slowly.
“This is where we stop him... or them.”
Jeff peered into his passenger’s face. “Are you scared?”
“Definitely.” Shane exited the car and shaded his eyes from the driving rain. Jeff retrieved the penlight from his chest pocket.
In the darkness, they cautiously approached the corroded iron fence. Shane examined the heavy chain and established how much give it allowed the double gate. Hardly any. “Wonder why they left Bethany’s car in back, but apparently entered through the front?”
“Maybe they got through one of the side gates instead.”
“We’re going this way.” Shane worked the rusty hacksaw on the padlock but the worn blade barely scratched that tempered steel; heavy rain made it too slippery to bite. His efforts were not aided much by the minor illumination from Jeff’s penlight. Giving up on the saw, Shane used the pry bar to break open a link of the chain. It took all his strength. With downtown’s power still out from the storm, the night around them was pitch black. And still pouring rain. Shane shielded his eyes again and scanned the structure’s dark exterior. “Anything look different on the outside?”
When Jeff gazed upward, rain fell into his eyes. “Never saw any lights before.” He pointed toward the fourth floor where a window glowed rather dimly.
Shane nodded. Has to be it. “Somebody’s here and they didn’t come in from this side. You said there’s three other gates?”
“Yeah. Larger gate on the front... and smaller ones on each side.”
Shane started to leave.
“Is that all you’re taking?” Jeff pointed to the chisel, pry bar, and Connie’s canister.
Shane wished he had the weapons from his impounded saddlebags. “Maybe I’ll find something inside I can use. But gimme that light.”
He did. “I saw your picture of Ricks. But how will I recognize the other bad guy... this pro character?”
“Anybody who runs out of this building who’s not me or Bethany... is a bad guy. If he looks like he knows what he’s doing, he’s the pro. But you don’t need to worry about it, Jeff, ‘cause you’re not staying. Remember?”
He obviously remembered. “You sure you don’t want my help?”
“No offense, but you’d be in the way.” It seemed kinder than saying, “You’re probably not up to this.”
Jeff definitely looked offended nonetheless.
“Look, you’ve been a big help so far.” Shane put a thick hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. “Get those police moving and that’s even bigger help. There’s no way they’d believe me... I was in their holding pen for several hours today. You’re local and probably squeaky clean. Plus, you can explain everything that’s happened.”
“You think they’ll believe a hysterical, short black man on a dark and stormy night?”
“I’d believe you.” Shane held out his hand. “Thanks, Jeff.”
No reply, but he extended his own hand.
“Call Connie on your way to the station. No need for her to stay with Bethany’s folks. Whatever’s gonna happen... will be right here.”
Jeff turned slowly, clutched the disintegrating poncho hood around his neck and trotted toward his wife’s car. He stopped and waved... once. Then he got in and drove south, where Washington would soon intersect Main Street.
Shane propped a fallen tree branch against the gate to keep it wide open. Never know when you’ll need to make a fast exit.
The hotel’s rear entrance doors were also padlocked, so Shane used the pry bar again. The lock broke with the force of his pull, but the crowbar went flying into the heavy growth toward his right. It would be impossible to locate even without rain and darkness.
Now all Shane had was a chisel, a penlight, and Connie’s self defense canister.