before they resumed again. For all he could tell, they were alone. A set of ropes hung through the center of the tower, out of reach.
The match died out just as his surroundings seemed to whirl before him.
Emily reached into a pocket, found a few coins, and pitched a quarter over the edge. It seemed an eternity before they heard the sound of it striking bottom.
He heard Emily get to her feet. “Are you dizzy?” she asked.
“A little.”
She took hold of his hand again and carefully led him back to the storage room.
They sat next to each other. His headache hammered at his skull. He felt as if the pain was derailing his thoughts, keeping him from coming up with any sort of plan.
After a time, he said, “I guess we’ve been kidnapped.”
She nodded. “They took me from a restaurant. Two of them. They gave me some kind of shot. You?”
“Ran me off the road while I was on my bike. I think-I kind of remember someone giving me a shot. I don’t know. I hit my head.” He rubbed a hand over his scalp and winced as he touched a good-sized knot.
“Why do you think they took us?” she asked.
He felt sleepy and lay back down on the floor. “I don’t know.”
“Are you going to sleep? How can you sleep at a time like this?”
“Sorry. I can’t help it. Maybe I have a concussion.” He yawned. “I don’t know.”
“‘I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know…’ Is that all you can say? Besides, if it’s a concussion, you’re supposed to stay awake, right?”
“I don’t-”
“Know.”
He smiled a little. “No. I don’t.”
“Think! Why did they do this?”
He frowned, trying to concentrate. “Maybe because-maybe because my parents have a lot of money. I don’t think my dad will pay to get me back.”
She thought this over. “Maybe they think Kit will pay them, too.”
“Kit?” He struggled to keep his eyes open.
“My brother. He’s my guardian. He’s got a lot of money, too.” She was silent for a long time. Then she said, “Kit would pay them. He would pay anything.”
As he drifted off to sleep, Chase wondered why that made her look as if she might cry after all.
48
Manhattan Beach, California
Thursday, May 22, 6:21 P.M.
“I thought you said he was here.”
John O’Brien didn’t bother to hide his impatience. “I left that message over an hour ago, Alex. And thank you very much for taking your sweet damned time.”
Alex saw Rusty try to hide himself under the coffee table. “You’re scaring the dog.” He sat on the couch and tried to coax the dog out. Failing that, he said, “Look, I don’t know when I’ve had a more hellacious day. Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. So tell me what happened. You say an old army buddy of yours vouches for Kit Logan?”
“Never mind all the details of why I trust this kid. You don’t have time for that. Enough to say Kit Logan came here, and he’s hoping he can trust you. I told him he could. He wants to talk to you about Gabe Taggert. And he thinks his ward has been kidnapped.”
Alex sat up straight. “He knows where Taggert is?”
“Yes. He says Taggert’s alive, and he wants to make sure he stays that way. Turns out he became good friends with Taggert when they were in school together at Sedgewick.”
“Sedgewick…”
“But he thinks someone in the sheriff’s department or the FBI is working with some old rivals of his. It’s complicated, but mainly it boils down to a couple of guys who were good buddies of your supposed suicides up on Mulholland.”
“Everett Corey and Cameron Burgess.”
“You know their names?”
“While I was taking my ‘sweet time’-as you call it-I was going over everything I could lay hands on about Whitfield and Addison. Anyone that knew the two of them very well mentioned that the four of them had been nearly inseparable since high school-at Sedgewick. In fact, even though neither set of parents seemed to pay much attention to their sons, they mentioned those two.” He paused, then said, “I know Corey and Burgess.”
“How? From living in Malibu?”
“No. When I was first in detectives, I busted Everett Corey on an assault case. He was only about fourteen, but he had nearly killed this other kid. His father tried everything he could to prevent the case from going forward-even a not-so-subtle attempt to bribe me. That nearly got his own ass thrown in jail.”
“I remember this one now. Made you twice as determined to see the kid convicted.”
“Money still talks, though. He had a good lawyer. That’s how he ended up at Sedgewick instead of with the California Youth Authority. His father carried on as if I had ruined the kid’s future. He’s the one who ruined that kid. That wasn’t our last run-in, either. He was a real asshole.”
“Oh? You had other problems with him?”
“Later on, I caught another case up there-Everett’s friend, Cameron Burgess? His father was found dead. He had been strangled, supposedly by an intruder. I thought both boys might have been involved, but I didn’t have much more than a gut feeling to go on. Corey’s old man-who never forgave me for arresting his pride and joy the first time-swore both boys had been at his place all night when Burgess died.”
“Where’s the father now?”
“Looked that up this evening. While I was taking my-”
“Okay, okay-I realize you’ve been busy.”
“Thank you.”
Rusty eased out from under the coffee table. Alex stroked his fur absently and said, “Corey Senior was bedridden when Cameron’s father was killed, and it was clear that he didn’t have much time left then. He died a few years ago-cancer, I guess. Everett Corey has all the money now.”
John frowned. “Alex-when we spent that afternoon with Shay Wilder, and he asked me to talk to him for a minute-when you and Ciara were in the car?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“He said he thought someone had targeted you personally. From everything Kit Logan told me today, Everett Corey is not exactly the forgiving kind. Could bear a grudge for years. Used to walk around quoting the old saying about revenge-”
“That it’s a dish best served cold?”
“Right.”
“His father was like that, too.” Alex thought for a moment. “John, you realize Logan went to the same school?”
“Yes.” He shrugged.
Alex gave him a look of disbelief. “Don’t you get it? There is absolutely no doubt that there is some connection between these killings and that school. Maybe not the school itself, but let me tell you-it has one hell of an alumni association. And this morning I learned that an FBI agent who hasn’t been seen for a while is a graduate of the place. Now you tell me another Sedgewick grad has knocked on my front door and claims to be able to show me where the only living fugitive is hiding out-”
John interrupted. “You wonder why I trust him. It’s not just that I trust Moriarty’s judgment. Rusty likes him, too.”
