call for a minute, okay?”
John shook his head. “Whatever.”
Will left the room, putting the phone to his ear as he closed the door. “What is it, Leo?”
“I went to Mike’s house like you said.”
Will felt a spark of anger. John had been about to crack. If the stupid phone hadn’t rung, he’d be laying out the whole story right now.
“I’m knocking on the door, knowing Mike’s home because I see his car in the street.”
Will leaned against the wall, feeling his sleepless night catch up with him. “And?”
“No answer, but then a DeKalb PD cruiser pulls up with Gina right behind him. Gina’s the wife, right? She called them for protection while she gets some of her stuff out of the house.”
“Okay.”
“She backs into the driveway and it’s not like I can duck under a bush, so I go up to her, ask her how she’s doing. She looks at me like I’m a turd in her cereal, I guess thinking I’m Mike’s buddy.”
Will thought about John, sitting in the interrogation room. “Is this going somewhere?”
“You think I’m tugging your root, junior? I got at least ten years on you.
“You’re right,” Will allowed, leaning back against the wall, wondering how long this was going to take. “Go ahead.”
“So,” Leo continued. “DeKalb’s not happy to see me, right? Apparently, Mike’s been giving them the runaround about the dead neighbor. Won’t talk to them, won’t give a statement, won’t let them look in his house.”
He had Will’s undivided attention now.
“My thinking is they jumped on Gina’s call so they could get a peek around.”
“And?”
“After she figured out Mike wasn’t home, she wouldn’t let them into the house.” Leo added with some appreciation, “She may hate his fucking guts, but she’s still a cop’s wife. She knows you don’t let nobody poke around unless they’ve got a paper from the judge.”
“What am I missing here?”
“Lemme finish,” Leo cautioned. “This cop, Barkley, he’s pretty pissed standing around with his dick in his hand. So, he takes it out on me, tells me to get the fuck off the property.” Will heard a lighter flick open as Leo lit a cigarette. “Me, I mosey out into the street. It’s a free country, right? Barkley don’t own the street.”
Will could imagine the scene. You didn’t tell a cop to leave unless you wanted him to hang around your neck for the rest of your natural life.
Leo continued, “I’m poking around Mike’s car, wondering why it’s parked across the street and not in his drive, when the neighbor pulls up with her groceries. Real nosy bitch, but I ask her where Mike is, and she says-” Leo paused to take a drag on his cigarette. “She says that Mike was there about an hour ago. She was getting her mail when he pulled up. He asked her about the car parked in his driveway.”
Will stood away from the wall. “What car?”
“Some car in the driveway,” Leo answered. “Mike wanted to know how long it had been there. She tells him five, maybe ten minutes, then he just walks away, doesn’t even say thank you.”
“Then what?”
“The neighbor got inside her house, gets her grocery list and heads back out.” Leo took another drag. “Only she notices that now the car in the driveway is facing the other direction. It’s backed up to the garage now. She sees Mike standing there, closing the garage door.”
“Shit.”
“He throws her a wave, closes the trunk, gets in and drives off.”
Closes the trunk, Will echoed in his head. Michael had put something in the trunk.
Will asked, “Did she say what kind of car it was?”
“Black. She don’t know models.”
His heart wasn’t beating anymore. “Leo, is the cop still there?”
“Yeah.”
“Gina’s car is still backed into the driveway?”
“Yeah.”
“I need you to go into the driveway and look under the back of her car. Tell me if there’s fresh oil on the concrete.”
“You want me to get my dick shot off?”
“You’ve got to do this,” Will insisted, his throat hurting from the effort it took to speak. “Tell me if there are any fresh oil stains.”
“Jesus,” Leo muttered. Will heard him blow out a stream of smoke. “All right, hold on.”
Will squeezed his eyes closed, picturing Leo walking across the street into Michael’s driveway. There was a man’s voice, probably the cop named Barkley, then a few groans as Leo must have struggled to get down on the ground. More yelling from the local cop, Leo yelling back. Finally, he got back on the phone. “Yeah, there’s fresh oil. Can’t be from Gina’s car because she backed into the drive-”
Will snapped the phone closed, tucking it into his pocket as he slammed into the interrogation room.
John saw him and backed up, saying, “What the-”
Will twisted the man’s arm around behind his back and smashed his face into the wall. He put his mouth an inch from John’s ear to make sure the bastard heard every word.
“Tell me where he is.”
John screamed in pain, going up on his toes.
“Tell me where he is,” Will repeated, pushing the arm higher, feeling the shoulder start to give.
“I don’t-”
“He’s got Angie, you asshole.” Will twisted the arm harder. “Tell me where he is.”
“Tennessee,” John whispered. “He’s got a place in Tennessee.”
Will let go and John dropped to the floor.
“Where in Tennessee?”
John shook his head, tried to stand. “Take me with you.”
“Tell me the address.”
He pushed himself up, wincing from the pain in his shoulder. “Take me with you.”
“I’m only going to ask you one more time.” When he didn’t answer, Will took a step toward him.
“All right!” John screamed, holding up the only arm he could move. “Twenty-nine Elton Road. Ducktown, Tennessee.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Angie had vomited at some point, but the gag had kept most of it in her mouth. Judging by the acrid smell in the trunk she had managed to urinate on herself as well. Her head was pounding, and her body ached so badly she couldn’t move without moaning in pain. Her hands and feet were hogtied behind her. Even if she had been able to move, she had nowhere to go, no way of helping herself. She was completely powerless.
She tried to concentrate on breathing, keeping herself oriented so that she wasn’t sick again. This was hardly her first concussion, nor was it the worst, but the darkness in the trunk made it difficult to keep from panicking, and every time the car stopped for a traffic light or stop sign, she could not calm the fear that burned in her chest like acid.
The car slowed again, and she tensed, listening to the tires crunching against a gravel road. They were off the pavement now. Angie had no idea how long she’d been in the trunk. She hadn’t seen who had hit her on the back of the head, but she knew it was Michael. His laughter still rang in her ears. It was the same laugh he’d given the night of Ken’s party when he’d shoved her into the backseat of her car.
The girl.
There had been a girl tied to the pool table. Blood and bruises had riddled her small body. Jasmine. It had to be Jasmine.
