The Wrong Side of Dead

forcing him to stop.

“Get out of the car. NOW!” she yelled. “I won’t ask a second time.”

When the man opened the door, he raised his hands and left the car running. “Don’t shoot. What’s going on? You need a ride?”

“Luis? Is that you?” she asked. The Hispanic man flinched, enough for her to know she was right.

“Yeah, who wants to know?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Sorry, man.” She nudged the Colt, directing him to back up, and he obliged. “I need your wheels, but trust me, you want no part in this. Hopefully, we can share a brew and talk about it another time.”

She directed him to the curb, where he stood in the headlights of the Impala. When he raised a hand to block the glare, she ordered him down on his belly with fingers locked behind his head. And the man did as he was told.

Time to leave. Shivering from the chill of wet clothes, she hit the gas and sped away in his vehicle, taking a peek in the rearview mirror. The PI lunged off the sidewalk and chased after her, flailing his arms and shouting curses in Spanish.

She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out her cell. “You still there?”

“Your powers of persuasion would be more impressive if you didn’t let your Colt Python do all the talking.”

“Consider me bilingual.” She didn’t wait for Alexa to counter. “I need you to get in your car now and track the van. Be my eyes, and tell me where it goes.”

Alexa didn’t hesitate or question her crazy request. Jess heard her move—the rustle of fabric, the ping of a computer, and the woman’s shallow breaths as she hustled out the door. And after Alexa gave her a quick reading on where the van was located, Jessie adjusted her course and headed to the general vicinity of Chicago.

“I’m on my way…and I’ve got a clear signal,” Alexa told her. “Now talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Seth’s in trouble. Someone took his father, and Harper’s not gonna walk away from this without help.” She had a lot of explaining to do and not much time. “I’ll explain when I see you. Just follow his van and please…don’t lose it.”

With her cell phone plugged into her ear, Jess listened to Alexa’s voice as she called out street names. She gripped the steering wheel of the Impala, speeding along streets she barely recognized, heading blindly in a general direction. Her gut twisted with a knot of fear that she’d be too late to help Harper and his father.

“Damn it!”

With Alexa unfamiliar with the Chicago area, she could only call out intersections as the van crossed. Many of the specific street names didn’t hold significance, especially not knowing which block. Jess veered onto freeways trying to make up ground, only to change direction and second-guess her choices.

But all too soon, Alexa’s voice came on the line one final time.

“He’s stopped. The van has stopped.” She gave the street name and the nearest intersection.

Jess hit the gas and sped to the location. She wasn’t far away.

Harper’s blue van was parked on a dark residential street in a shabby neighborhood—a hodgepodge of smaller dwellings built next to larger boardinghouses and vacated properties boarded up as condemned. Older estates had been converted into projects, once a grander residential neighborhood in the day. Now the structures stood amidst overgrown yards with cheap cyclone fences to catch blowing trash in their mesh. Deep ruts of muddy water and the litter of old tires and hulls of stripped cars on blocks marred front yards that had also seen better days.

Only a few residences had lights on and many of the streetlamps weren’t working. The roads were murky with shadows, and gang signs were painted on Dumpsters and on front doors—a show of intimidation—even for those who had no idea what the symbols meant.

But one of the larger houses to the left looked familiar. A recognizable pitch to a roof or its unique window shutters triggered a strange tightening deep in her belly. She glared at the house, searching her memory until she could no longer do it. A wave of nausea forced her to take deep breaths. She grasped the steering wheel tight until the queasy feeling went away.

Stay focused, Jess! For Harper’s sake, she had to remain strong and not let her fears take root. This wasn’t about her. Seth and his father were depending on her.

“What’s going on?”

Jess wondered why anyone would have Seth drive here. She got out of the Chevy and stood in the middle of the street, turning to get her bearings. Down the street, she spotted headlights, and the car slowed as it drew near. She recognized Alexa’s rental car. The woman pulled in behind the Impala and parked, keeping headlights burning as she had done. They would need the light on such a dark night. The rain had died to wavering drizzle.

“You okay?” Alexa asked as she got out, drawing her weapon and slamming her car door.

“Yeah.” When she shifted her gaze toward the van, her heart lurched. “Let’s take a look inside.”

She pulled her Colt Python, keeping her eyes on Harper’s vehicle, looking for any sign of movement. Alexa spoke to her in a soft voice, telling her she’d take the right side, but she barely heard her. Jess raised her weapon with both hands and headed for the van.

“Seth…you there?” she called out, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotion.

No sound came from the van. And the street was deathly quiet. Something about the neighborhood sent shards of dark memories to cut her deep.

Jess felt her eyes sting with tears and a lump wedged in her throat. She imagined Harper slumped behind the driver’s seat—dead—his brown eyes staring vacantly into the darkness. Pale skin splattered with his blood.

She blinked back that horrifying picture and tightened the grip on her weapon, creeping closer to the driver’s door. After a deep breath, she swallowed hard and reached for the door handle. She yanked it open and aimed her weapon into the dark. Alexa did the same on the other side. Jess’s eyes searched the shadows, but nothing.

They were too late.

Seth was gone.

CHAPTER 23

A rush of guilt swept over Jessie as she stared into the shadows of the empty van. She should never have let Harper go. Not without a plan. Her breaths came in shallow pants, and rage stirred hot in her belly. She was just as mad at her own failure as at the bastard who now had Seth.

“This is my fault.” She struggled for air, lowering her weapon. “I never should have let him go alone.”

Alexa kept her silence for a moment, but eventually said, “Harper made his choice. He did what he had to do…for his father’s sake.” She let that sink in before she added, “And besides, he wasn’t really alone, not with a tracking beacon on the van. Whoever did this made a quick…” She stopped and turned around, not finishing her thought.

Instead, she searched the area behind her, peering into the shadows for a closer look. Jess watched her move until her eyes gravitated to the eerie shadows of houses on the block, and a familiar sinking feeling roiled in her stomach. The street gave her the creeps.

“What are you looking for?” she finally asked.

Before the woman replied, Jess felt her heart lurch in her chest. She knew the answer before she said anything. Being more objective, Alexa’s judgment wasn’t clouded with the emotion she felt. If she had distanced herself, she might have done the same thing.

“If they only intended to kill him,” her friend replied, “they wouldn’t have to take him far.”

The idea of Harper being hauled from the van with his body dumped nearby sent a cold chill down her spine. Needles pricked her skin with newfound cruelty. She’d seen far too many ghastly images to last her a lifetime. Picturing Harper’s dead body came too easily.

Alexa’s attention moved back to the van, and Jess breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t find his lifeless body. But until she found out what had actually happened to Seth, the waiting game would be a miserable gut- wrenching ride of speculation.

Alexa probed the vehicle’s interior, and said, “There’s a backpack on the floorboard.”