“This is him. This is the man who grabbed me in the alley.”
Martin leaned over Daisy’s shoulder to get a better look as she tapped the mug shot of a narrow-faced man, in his late twenties or early thirties, with a wispy goatee. The guy didn’t look at all familiar to him.
“So who is he?” Daisy asked, pointing at the photo while shifting her gaze from the tablet screen to the cop standing on the other side of the table. “What’s his name?”
As promised, the sheriff, as head of the joint task force with the police department, had made certain there was an array of mug shots for Daisy to look at first thing this morning. Martin had tried to get Daisy to allow the cops to come to the bail bond office with their photos so that she could stay home and continue recovering from yesterday’s ordeal, but she had insisted they come here to the sheriff’s department office. Her reasoning had been that any time they spent in one of the law enforcement offices offered the chance to see or overhear something that could help them in their pursuit of Daltrey and Bunker.
Detective Stu Gerber, who’d taken over the case, reached for the tablet and pulled it toward him, nodding to himself. “This would be Tony Valens. He’s been arrested for drug possession and possession with intent to sell several times down in Missoula. Did some time in lockup, then surfaced here about a year ago. He’s a known associate of a couple of dealers we’ve busted, but we haven’t had any solid reason to grab him and lock him up. Until now.”
Gerber called a deputy into the room and showed her the tablet. “Tony Valens.”
“All right, I’ll send this out to all the patrol units right now. Then I’ll look up his last known address so we can move on him.” The deputy gave Daisy and Martin a brief nod of acknowledgment before turning on her heel and leaving.
“So you know where to find him?” Daisy asked.
“He probably didn’t go home after he grabbed you and then fled the scene at the industrial building,” the detective said. “Although you never know, offenders have done stranger things. But based on his criminal record and known associates, we’ll have some places to start looking. And then there’s the digital trail we can follow as soon as we track down his phone.” He nodded. “We’ve got a good chance of finding him.”
Martin’s heart started to beat a little faster, prodded by the hope that the quick capture of Valens would lead to the recovery of Daltrey and Bunker. At which point this nightmare would be over and Daisy would finally be safe.
Gerber sat down at the table and tapped out something on his tablet.
Impatient to have all of this wrapped up and over with, Martin remained standing. What he wanted to do was go out with the deputies who were—hopefully—about to bust Tony Valens. But that, of course, was not possible. And he reminded himself that the law officers were perfectly capable of doing their job without him. He just wished he could be there to help.
“Do you have any idea how Valens is connected to Daltrey and Bunker?” Martin asked. “Or any idea how Valens could be connected to the mob in general?”
Gerber finished what he was doing on his tablet, looked up and then leaned back in his chair. “There’s nothing specific in his record that points to any connection to organized crime. The main reasons we put him in the photo lineup are that he fit the physical description and he’s a known criminal. We suspect he’s dealing drugs in Jameson, but we haven’t been able to prove it. He’s got to have some kind of connections to get his product, but the idea of a big-time Miami organized crime syndicate having a connection to Jameson, Montana, is hard to believe. It’s unsettling to think they could have a presence here without us knowing about it. But maybe that is the source of his drugs.”
“Maybe all of this started recently,” Daisy said, her voice fainter than usual.
Martin glanced over and saw her rubbing her shirt around the spot where she’d been cut yesterday. When they were having coffee this morning she’d mentioned it was starting to itch. And then he’d suggested that it was too soon for her to get back to work and she should just stay home. He’d gotten a loud sigh and an eye roll from her for his efforts.
“Maybe Daltrey and Bunker started that connection. We know they were nearly captured while they were hiding in Atlanta before they disappeared from there eight weeks ago,” she added. “If they came straight here when they skipped out of Georgia, eight weeks would be enough time to get a good start on an illegal business if they knew what they were doing.”
“What information have you gotten from researching the warehouse?” Martin asked. “Did you get a name for the person leasing the place or requesting that the utilities be connected? Anything like that?”
“The building is owned by an investment company in Portland,” the detective said. “No one leased it from them so it should be vacant. The structural integrity as well as electrical systems don’t meet code for occupancy, so they haven’t had it on the market trying to attract tenants. It looks like our kidnapper broke into the place, brought in a battery-operated generator and hauled in some bottled water. There’s no sign that he actually lived there, so I’m guessing he used it to receive and then repackage drugs for resale.”
“And he used it for locking up people,” Daisy muttered.
Martin glanced at her. She was looking pale. He wanted to get her out of here, soon.
“How is your mother?” the detective asked.
“I talked to her this morning. She’s okay, mostly worried about me.” Daisy smiled. “You probably know how that is.”
Gerber, who was perhaps a couple of years older than Martin, smiled at her in return. “Yes, I do.”
“So what are you doing right now?” Martin snapped, feeling a stab of jealousy that he absolutely did not want to deal with at all. “We don’t have time for chitchat.”
Daisy gave him a wide-eyed look.
“I’ve sent out notifications and emails while we’ve been talking,” the detective said smoothly. “Deputies are already en route to Valens’s last known address. Jameson police and the sheriff’s department will be on the lookout for him. And we already have people starting to track his digital trail.”
The detective stood, indicating that their meeting was over. Martin and Daisy also got to their feet.
“What do you two plan to do next?” Gerber asked.
Martin glanced at Daisy. She was definitely fading. “We’re going back to the office to do some research,” he said. “Find out if the Carters ever posted bail for Tony Valens. Or see if they could get information out of anybody in their bail bonds network of friends down in Missoula.”
They said their goodbyes, and Martin stayed close as he and Daisy walked outside. He scanned the surroundings carefully as they walked to his truck. The area just outside the sheriff’s department main headquarters ought to be secure, but he wasn’t taking any chances. There was no telling the size of the criminal network in Jameson that was willing to work with or for Daltrey and Bunker and their mob bosses. Attacks on Daisy could happen anywhere, at any time.
Daisy sat at her desk in front of a laptop computer and squeezed the thick handle of her empty coffee mug, willing herself to stay awake and alert.
There’d been freshly brewed coffee in the glass carafe in the office when she and Martin arrived back at the Peak Bail Bonds office. She’d filled three-quarters of a mug with coffee, dumped in a lot of cold milk to cool it down so she could drink it faster and then squirted in a healthy dose of chocolate syrup for a delicious flavor and a sugar kick. It was her go-to drink when she was working a challenging case and she needed some quick energy to keep her going. So far this morning, it wasn’t helping.
Daisy and Martin were with Alvis and Millie in the back part of the office, where a jutting section of wall kept them out of view of anyone in the lobby. There was, however, a section of two-way mirror in that wall so that anyone back there could see into the lobby without being seen.
Justine and Steve were parked at the front counter. The front door was locked, but high flight-risk clients out on bail were allowed through the door to do their required in-person check-ins. New bonds were still being written, and the skip-tracing work Justine specialized in was still being conducted. They were still open for business, but everyone was being careful. Alvis and Millie had offered to close the place down for a few days to help Daisy feel safe, but she’d insisted they keep things running. She knew their offer was sincere, but she also knew they couldn’t afford to put a freeze on doing business. They needed an income like anyone else.
Still, the feeling in the office was more than a little bit tense.
“Tony Valens is not someone we’ve written bail on,” Millie said, looking through a pair of half-glasses at the screen of the laptop sitting on her desk. “I’ll check with our bail bonds friends in Missoula and see if they have anything.”
“I don’t see him mentioned in our contact database,” Daisy said, closing the file. She did a quick check on her email and saw that Deputy Gerber had sent her a mug shot of Valens. She opened the file and clicked to print a few copies of the photo in case she needed it later to show to people around town. She carried one of the printouts over to Millie to show her.
“He doesn’t look familiar,” Millie said, shaking her head. “Send me that photo. I’ll add him to our contact database.”
Along with information on their clients, Peak Bail Bonds maintained a pretty extensive database of clients’ known associates, as well as the names of people bounty hunters had come in contact with while tracking bail jumpers, and people who were out and about in the community, saw things going on and were willing to share information or keep an eye out for an offender in return for payment.
“Tony Valens doesn’t look familiar to me, either,” Alvis said. He’d walked over from his desk to take a look.
Daisy sent the photo file to Millie, copying in Martin and Alvis.
“Okay, I’ve got some basics on him,” Justine said. The red-haired single mom in her late thirties had taught herself the basics of skip tracing while trying to track down her ex-husband for child support payments. She rattled off Valens’s date of birth, criminal convictions and last known address.
“I’m sure the cops are sitting on that address if they haven’t found him there already,” Alvis said.
The buzzer at the front door sounded and Daisy nearly jumped out of her skin. Martin, who’d been leaning against the nearby wall with his arms crossed, straightened up and moved his hand so that it rested near the gun at his side.
“This should be okay,” Steve called out from the front counter. “It’s Pete Keller here for his daily check-in.”
“He’s a high flight risk because he’s an addict who keeps relapsing,” Daisy said to Martin. Still, the fact that he was a familiar face didn’t mean that he was safe. If he’d fallen off the wagon again and was in the throes of his addiction, he’d do anything for money to buy drugs. Even take a shot at Daisy if her fugitives’ criminal network had somehow gotten a hold on him.
Heart racing in her chest and finding it a little bit hard to breathe, Daisy watched through the two-way mirror as Steve walked to the door, opened it, spoke to Pete and then closed and locked the door.
She blew out her breath, and then realized that everyone else in the office had also stopped what they were doing to watch. Learning that they were dealing with a criminal force bigger than just Daltrey and Bunker was unnerving. Daisy was pretty certain she wasn’t the only one still processing that new fact.
“I’ve found a couple of previous employers for Valens, too,” Justine added.
“The cops will be on that,” Martin said. “But it might be worth talking to his former coworkers and neighbors after the police are done.”
“Agreed,” Daisy said. There were plenty of people who would not help the cops for a variety of reasons. But they would talk to a bounty hunter. Especially if the bail jumper the hunters were looking for was dangerous.
“Valens was wearing a university T-shirt,” she added, trying to remember details of the attack yesterday while tamping down the painful feelings that started to creep up when she turned her thoughts in that direction. A sickening fear uncoiled in her stomach, and her imagination started to gallop toward the horrible way that yesterday’s abduction could have ended. She or her mom could have been killed. Maybe even both of them.
Lord, I know You are with me, always, she prayed silently. She took a steadying breath, exhaled and turned to Justine. “Your oldest son, Robbie, goes to the university, right? Maybe he’s seen Tony Valens around on campus.”
Justine turned to her. “Why would you think Robbie would know him?”
Daisy shrugged. “It’s possible that Valens never set foot on campus and he just got the shirt because he thought it looked cool. It’s also possible that he’s an enrolled student. The cops will check on that. But maybe he got the shirt so he’ll look like he fits in while hanging out around the student union, or maybe some place off campus, selling drugs. So maybe Robbie’s seen him. Would you send him a picture and ask? If he has seen Valens, it would give Martin and me an idea of where to look for him.”
Justine nodded. “Okay.”
Daisy sent Valens’s photo to Justine, then she got up and headed for the coffeepot again. She still didn’t have much energy. She wasn’t surprised. Over the course of the last two nights, she’d gotten very little sleep. While she was reaching for the handle of the carafe, Millie walked up to her.
“Honey, I’ll bet what you really need is something to eat. Why don’t you and Martin take an early lunch. I’ve got a slow cooker full of potato leek soup that should be ready by now. There’s shredded cheddar cheese and some crumbled, cooked bacon in the refrigerator for you to sprinkle on top.”
That actually sounded really good. “It’s your soup,” Daisy said. “You and Alvis should eat first.”
“I’m not hungry,” Alvis said.
Daisy laughed. Alvis was always hungry.
“I will boldly admit that I would like to eat,” Martin said. He looked at Daisy and lifted his chin. “Come on, let’s go.”
Mildly annoyed with herself for giving in to Martin so easily, Daisy walked with him up the stairs to the third floor. After giving Bowie the attention the pup demanded and offering a few scratches to Reggie, who was lying on the top floor of his fancy cat tree, they headed to the kitchen. Daisy was reaching for soup bowls in the cabinet when her phone rang. When she saw the name on the screen, her stomach clenched. She looked at Martin and said, “It’s my brother.” She took a breath and then answered the call.
“What’s going on?” Aaron demanded.
Daisy hesitated, remembering her conversation with her mother. Shannon didn’t want Aaron to worry, especially when there was nothing he could do to help in the situation. Daisy felt the same way, but she also didn’t feel right deceiving her brother. She told herself she wouldn’t lie to him. She’d just avoid telling him the whole truth. For now. Even as she made the decision, it didn’t sit well with her. “Things are like usual,” she said. “I’m working on throwing a would-be escapee from justice back into jail.”
“Knock it off,” Aaron snapped. “I know what happened to you and Mom. Gerald thought I knew about it. Sent me a text asking if there’s anything he can do to help.” Gerald was one of Aaron’s old high school buddies. “I haven’t talked to Mom, yet,” Aaron continued. “I wanted to talk to you first. Are the two of you okay?”
Daisy sighed. “We’re both fine.”
“Where are you?” he asked. “Are you alone? Can you talk freely?”
“I can talk. I’m at the bail bond office. With Martin.”
“With Martin? Put me on speaker.”
She tapped the speaker button.
“I’m here,” Martin said.
“I thought I could trust you,” Aaron said.
Martin’s dark eyes widened. Daisy could see the pain in them. “I’m sorry,” she said to Martin. “I shouldn’t have put you in this position.” Then to Aaron, she said, “You’re thousands of miles away. Mom and I didn’t want you to worry. There’s nothing you can do. Nothing we need you to do right now.”
“I’ll take emergency leave and get there as fast as I can.”
“Aaron, no.” Daisy was still holding her phone. With her free hand, she rubbed her forehead. She could feel a headache coming on. Not because of her brother. She knew he was upset because he loved her and their mom. She was just tired. Of pretty much everything, right now. “Listen to me,” she said, struggling to keep her voice sounding confident and calm. Getting into a shouting match with her control freak older brother right now, or bursting into tears, would not help anything.
“Please wait,” she said. “For Mom’s sake. You have so little time to spend with her. With us. You know how much Mom loves it when you come home and she can show you off to her friends. Have the family over. Go out to dinner, all of us together. Go hiking or fishing together, take a weekend trip over to the coast. If you come now, we won’t be able to do any of those things.”
Aaron was quiet for a few seconds. “I don’t know if I should believe you. Maybe the situation is worse than you’re letting on.”
Daisy glanced at Martin.
“If it were me, I’d want to know the truth,” he said firmly.
“The criminals I’m chasing have targeted me,” she said to her brother. “I honestly doubt they’ll bother Mom again. She’s staying with Aunt Jessica and Uncle Tim. Kidnapping her was a means to get to me. To try to stop me from chasing them.”
“I don’t like this.” Aaron didn’t sound happy.
“If we need you to come home, I’ll tell you. I promise,” she said.
“Martin, you heard that promise, right?”
“I did, Aaron. Call me anytime and I’ll give you an update.”
Aaron grumbled a little more, which was part of his personality and something he tended to do, anyway. Finally, he said his goodbyes and disconnected so that he could call their mom.
“Thank you,” Daisy said to Martin, thinking about how much stronger she felt when he was with her. And how much she appreciated his opinion—especially in tricky situations like this call with her brother—and his strength of character. The man had a very clear moral compass. And that was a valuable characteristic in anyone.
He gestured for her to sit at the dining table while he got their soup. Watching him take care of things, take care of her, warmed her heart. But it also made it ache at the same time. He would make a good partner in life. A good husband. A good father, even. And yet he lived his life as if he weren’t interested in any of those things. And she’d already invested too much time in thinking, hoping, praying that things could be different. That he might want something different. Something more. With her.
Knowing that he would head back to Stone River after this case was finished and she wouldn’t see him for weeks—months even—she tried to dampen the feelings she had for him. He’d broken her heart a few times already with his determination to be independent. She couldn’t keep letting that happen. She needed to create some emotional distance between them.
By the time he set the bowl of soup in front of her, complete with cheese and bacon sprinkled on top, a sense of heavy weariness seemed to have settled over Daisy’s entire body. At the moment they didn’t have any hot leads on Tony Valens, Beau Daltrey or Ivan Bunker. Maybe this afternoon would be a good time to go to her apartment and get a little rest.
Tonight, with renewed energy, she could go back to hunting bad guys with a vengeance. It seemed like they were always more active after dark, anyway. And if she wanted to stay alive, she needed to find them, before they found her.