Shadows from the Past Page 2

  “Dude, you didn’t tell me where you’re going.”

  “It’s better if you don’t know.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Roxy

  THE WRITING ON the note blurred, and then the paper slipped from my fingers. It fluttered to the floor like a dead, yellowed leaf. My breaths came fast and short as I stared down at it, then at the second phone. Deep down, I knew its purpose. I lifted it from the tabletop and the display lit up with a text message: use this for instructions.

  I tossed the phone away as if it were a clinging insect. It clattered onto the faux wood of the table, the message still staring back at me, taunting me for all the cons I’d pulled. They wanted five million? I didn’t have that—I had three at the most.

  “Damn it. I already called Skip,” I muttered. And he was suspicious—I’d picked it up in the tone of his voice.

  There was no way I could tell him what was going on. He didn’t know about my offshore account. The three million. Or how many lies I’d told him about Jack Welton.

  I’d buried my fear and pain for most of my life. Now was not the time to let those emotions take hold. Where had that phone come from? What physical location? There was one person I knew who could answer the question—Baldorf.

  It was a risky move, but my only play. I dialed, and he answered on the first ring.

  “Speak to me.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yeah, dude. Skip ran out of here. Said he had to go see someone. What’s up?”

  “I thought so.” I stuffed my phone in my back pocket, grabbed Lily’s and the burner, then went to my room to retrieve the two weapons I kept locked away. At the most, I had ten minutes before Skip would be here, so I filled Baldorf in as I hurried down the stairs and to the parking lot. “I think someone kidnapped Lily. They left me a ransom demand and a burner phone for instructions. Is it possible for you to get me any information from the phone? Maybe figure out where it’s been?”

  There was a long pause before he answered. “For real?”

  “I am totally serious.”

  “Are you going to tell the Skip-man about this?”

  “No. And you can’t either.”

  “Oh, man. You two are like fire and water.”

  “Can you do it or not?”

  “You know I love you both, right? But I always feel like I’m caught between a couple of titans. This is super stressful.”

  “Lily could be in danger, Baldorf. I can’t have her get hurt because of things I’ve done.”

  “Dude, I get it. Not saying no. Just suggesting you two should try trusting each other.”

  “I’m not built that way. And you know it.” I unlocked the driver’s door and got in.

  “Skip loves you. He’d move mountains to help you and Lily. You need to trust him. You sure you don’t want to talk to him about this?”

  “I can’t. I’ll do anything to get Lily back safely—with one exception. I’ve ruined Skip’s life twice already. I couldn’t live with myself if I did it again.”

  “It might hurt more if you cut him out.”

  “Look at you, going all Dr. Phil on me.”

  Baldorf’s sigh came through loud and clear. “Bring me the burner. And bring me the kid’s, too.”

  “I’ve got them both.”

  “Dude, you understand I can’t divine where she’s at now, only where that phone has been. Right?”

  “I get it, but I have to start somewhere.”

  “Be here in ten. I got no idea when the Skip-man’s coming back.”

  “I’m almost positive he’s on his way here.” I put the car in gear and drove slowly toward the exit. “I’m on my way.”

  Traffic was light and most of the lights cooperated, so nine minutes later, I was standing in front of an old Craftsman home a few blocks from the Oceanside pier. From the street, it was nearly impossible to see the small bungalow in the back which Baldorf rented.

  A woman’s sultry voice greeted me at the front door. “Welcome, Roxy. Please enter.”

  The door lock buzzed, and I turned the knob. Baldorf looked up from a computer monitor and lifted his chin. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself. I like the new computer voice. She sounds very human. Very sexy.”

  “Awesome. That’s three for three. Skip likes her, too. The landlord showed up one day. He said he wanted to marry her.”

  I smiled at Baldorf as I handed him the burner. “Sorry, but I don’t have time for small talk.”

  “For sure. No worries. Let me do some checking.” A few minutes later, he handed the phone back. “The message came from another burner. And the one they left you came alive in your apartment. We got squat.”

  My stomach tightened, and I looked away. “You said their message came from a burner? Can you track that one?”

  “No. The phone’s off the network.”

  “So they used it once and destroyed it. That’s what I’d do.”

  “Roger that, dude. These guys have to know the playbook. Where’s the kid’s phone?”

  I handed it to him. The creases in my forehead held so much tension I could scream. But that would be a waste of energy. I needed to focus. To get back into the game. Once Lily was safe, I could fall apart. Not before.

  “You know her passcode?” Baldorf peered up at me.

  “Um, yeah. It’s 852795. I made being able to unlock her phone a condition when I gave it to her.”

  He nodded, looked down, and tapped in the numbers. He immediately navigated through menus. In about thirty seconds, he turned away and plugged the phone into a cable coming from his computer.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “You want to know where this has been today, right? My program will extract the location history. I could hack the server, but that would take a while.”

  I sighed. “You are a miracle worker, Baldorf.”

  He drifted off into his own little world of computer code and logic, tapping the keys in short bursts. I’d never mastered typing, which was one reason I lost Job #2. The other was the hiring supervisor had been far more impressed with my legs than my abilities. Though he’d backed off when I told him his advances were unwanted, it became clear my days on Job #2 were numbered.

  “Skip must be slipping,” I said. “I can’t believe he didn’t have you trace Lily’s phone already.”

  Baldorf glanced up at me, his face flushed, and then he went back to his monitor.

  I laughed. “He did. Didn’t he?”

  “Okay. I kinda found where the phone was for him. But having the physical device is way more accurate. I can get tons of data.” He leaned forward and pointed at the rows of numbers displayed, which looked much like a series of longitudes and latitudes.

  “Are you serious? You expect me to interpret that…gibberish?”

  “No way. Even I can’t process all those coordinates. The machine’s working on it. Map should be ready right…about…now.”

  I peered over Baldorf’s shoulder as he scrutinized the screen. But I didn’t need his help for this part. I recognized the locations. Lily’s school, my apartment, and here.

  “So they grabbed her and went straight to my place.”

  Baldorf sighed and shook his head. I saw sadness in his eyes. It’s how my heart felt right now because someone had taken Lily to get to me. Nothing could change that.

  “Who would do this?” I asked absently.

  “I don’t know. Somebody who wants a lot of money?”

  Or maybe the motive was something else altogether. “It could also be somebody who really hates my guts.”

  “You got a somebody in mind?”

  “Do I ever. Thanks, Baldorf. You’ve helped clear my head.” I laid my phone on his desk and stood.

  He frowned and stared at it. “What’s that for?”

  “I have to pay someone a visit. And nobody can know where I’m going.”

  “Oh man, not again.”

  Before he could say another word, I shushed him wit
h a wave of my hand, then strode toward the door.

  He was still muttering ‘why me’s’ to himself when I closed the door behind me.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Skip

  SKIP PARKED HIS motorcycle in a spot near Roxy’s empty space. The absence of her beat-up Toyota meant she was not home, but he knocked on the door as a courtesy. He scanned the surrounding area as he waited. With luck, a neighbor or passerby would view him as a casual visitor, someone to ignore, but he had no intention of leaving before he checked the inside of the apartment.

  When there was no answer, he tried again. For nearly a full minute he stood at the railing gazing into the distance. Was he really going to do this? Break in? He’d pressed Roxy time and again to be honest with him. They should have no secrets. Trust him, is what he’d said.

  He was about to break all three rules for one simple reason—he knew Roxy. If something had happened to Lily, Roxy would have gone in search of her. The only way to answer the question was to go inside. He pulled his picks from his back pocket, knelt before the lock, and smiled as he worked, recalling their recent conversation about having a contest to see who was faster.

  Skip stepped into the apartment and called their names. Silence was the only response he received, so he closed the door and quickly surveyed the area. Everything was neat and orderly. No signs of a struggle. A couch with end tables on both sides stood against the interior wall. The table lamps were upright, their shades straight.

  The open concept floor plan made it easy to check the combination kitchen and dining room from where he stood. The dining table and chairs were in their normal positions, but the table was empty. There was a piece of yellow paper lying on the floor next to one of the table legs. He crossed the room, picked up the note, and read. When he finished, he folded it and stuffed it in his pocket, cautioning himself to not assume the worst until he had more proof.

  He began a systematic search of the apartment. Lily’s phone was missing. Both he and Roxy knew the device was an extension of Lily’s person, and a kidnapper might have left it with the note to prove they’d had contact. If that were the case, the first thing he’d have done was take it to Baldorf and ask him to work his tech-magic. No doubt Roxy had done the same.

  He looked around the kitchen, then in the refrigerator. Lily’s lunchbox, a teal-and-purple insulated container he’d given her for her last birthday was missing. Lily had loved the colors and carried it to school each day. Unlike many kids, Lily didn’t ‘lose’ things—a consequence of living on the streets and scrounging for every possession.

  Skip crossed back through the living room and entered Lily’s bedroom. More purple and teal. Bed made. Clothing hung up in the closet. His gut tightened as he surveyed the space. Her backpack was missing.

  Stay calm. Think. Reason it out. It was the way he worked; he needed to stay true to that now. Lily and nothing she’d had with her this morning when she went to school was in this room. He checked her closet. Her clothing and shoes were all here. In the bathroom, everything, right down to her toothbrush, was in its place. At Skip’s hip, his phone buzzed with a cryptic message from Baldorf. Two words. She’s here.

  So Roxy was following the same process he would. Baldorf could probably find Lily’s last locations. Skip’s jaw felt tight and grim as he responded with a single word. Thanks.

  He left Lily’s room and went directly to the locking cabinet in Roxy’s bedroom. The lock was trickier than the standard apartment hardware on the front door, but he picked it on the second try, then opened the door and looked inside.

  As he feared, Roxy’s Taser and her Glock 19 were missing. He swallowed hard and locked the cabinet. Roxy was expecting the worst. And rightly so, he thought. Her past was littered with victims. The question was, who wanted revenge the most?

  On his way out, Skip locked the front door. He sat on his bike for a moment, trying to sort out what might have happened today. The urge to panic nearly overwhelmed him, but he had one last hope. It was a long shot, but if he was to be methodical in his checks, he had to rule out the obvious before this went to, as Baldorf called it, the Titanic scenario.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Roxy

  THE PANAMAN HOUSE sat at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac in the hills above Carlsbad overlooking the Pacific Ocean. With views of more than one-hundred-eighty degrees and the best location on the block, this 60s rancher with impeccable landscaping was a gold mine any realtor would drool over.

  I, however, was not drooling, but dreading the thought of entering. It’s why I’d been sitting in my car watching the mahogany front door for the past few minutes. For all the cons I’ve pulled, only a handful of people had heard my real name. Most of those were accomplices, the kind of individuals who would not dare double-cross me because they might want my help at some point. But the man who lived in this house was different. He knew who I was. Had spent many days in court staring daggers at me as I testified against his son.

  Bruno Panaman hated me for destroying his life and that of his worthless offspring. What I didn’t know was if that hate ran deep enough to orchestrate Lily’s kidnapping. There was only one way to find out. Confront him. Look him in the eye and ask, did you do this to get back at me?

  Sitting here would not bring me the answers I needed. I abandoned the security of my car for the winding stone walkway to the front door. If I was wrong, this might be the biggest mistake of my life. And if I was right…God help me. I prayed I wasn’t signing Lily’s death warrant and pressed the doorbell button.

  Bruno Panaman answered the door, raised one eyebrow, then frowned. A swarthy man with the appearance of a 40s B-Movie villain, he had dark hair, brown eyes, and an intense stare. “Miss Tanner. To what do I owe this pleasure?” His tone was curt, lacking any semblance of the warmth I’d felt on my first—and only—visit to this house.

  “Where’s Lily?”

  “Of whom are you speaking, Miss Tanner?”

  “You know who she is, Bruno. Lily Jameson. The girl I’ve been fostering.”

  “Perhaps you stretch the facts, Miss Tanner. I believe the child to whom you refer is merely staying with you.”

  “See, you do know her.”

  “I may have heard her name. But I have not seen her. Why would you think she is here?”

  “I wouldn’t. But I’d bet anything you know where she’s being held.”

  “Miss Tanner. There’s no need for circuitous arguments.” He sighed. “Or unpleasantries. Why don’t you come in? I have a fresh batch of sun tea ready.”

  Damn Bruno, his sun tea, and his pretense of civility. I’d shared sun tea with him and his son on my only other visit to this house. At the time, I thought I was pulling a con on them. Little did I know that Sonny Panaman had other plans. Accepting this invitation felt like stepping into the lion’s den, but if it would help me get Lily back, I’d do it.

  “Very well.” I smiled, then entered. My skin crawled as the wooden door closed behind me. I had to be out of my mind. Skip would call this move stupid. I needed backup. But he wasn’t here. I couldn’t involve him. And I had to do this. Alone.

  Bruno led the way through the living room and out a patio slider. We went to his favorite seating area where he offered me one of the chairs spaced evenly around a glass-top table. An overhead umbrella provided relief from the late afternoon sun.

  “I will return momentarily with the tea, Miss Tanner.”

  In the distance, the Pacific ocean sparkled. On a clear day, the view extended in all directions, appearing to go as far as the ends of the earth. The backyard was a riot of colors with bougainvillea and roses in full bloom. But closer to home, on the glass tabletop, there were two moisture rings which were still wet and a hardcover book about dying and death. I had no doubts Bruno had been sitting out here with company.

  I scanned the area. There were no signs of other visitors. They might still be here. Hiding. Waiting for me to make a mistake. The tension in my shoulders eased as the mental curtai
n I used to hide the emotions playing out in my mind descended. The swiftness of the response unnerved me. I was back. Calm and dispassionate. This was my game, and it felt good.

  No, it felt better than good. Much better. I was a hawk released from captivity with no restrictions, no encumbrances. All that mattered was finding my prey and doing what I did best.

  Bruno exited the kitchen carrying a small tray on which he’d placed two glasses filled with a pale amber liquid. “Please. Choose whichever one you would like. I’ll take the other.”

  I took the closest glass and leaned back in the Adirondack chair. I laughed playfully. “Are you proving you’re not going to poison me?”

  “Precisely, Miss Tanner.” He gave me another small bow, picked up the second glass, and sipped. “You see? I hold no malice toward you.”

  I raised my glass in a toast. “To your good health.” You lying bastard.

  “And yours.” Bruno nodded politely and returned my smile.

  “I’d like to get back to my reason for being here. I’m looking for Lily.”

  “I told you, Miss Tanner. I know nothing of this child.”

  I stared at him, and he tried to prove his dominance by staring back, but he blinked first, then looked away. I hissed, “Bruno, if any harm comes to her…”

  “Miss Tanner, I swear to you.” He put his hand over his heart. “I do not have this girl. I have not kidnapped anyone, nor have I ever done this to a child.”

  Driving a knife into my heart would have been more merciful than those words. The mental curtain shielding my emotions from Bruno could not protect me from my internal suffering and turmoil. I told myself to seize the pain and use it as fuel. Bruno’s thin veil of innocence, weak and pathetic, would not deter me. He might have been a powerful crime boss in his youth, but he’d lost much of his empire along with the ability to tell a convincing lie.

  I held my glass with the practiced poise of a seasoned professional, sipped, and returned his gaze. “Well, there’s our problem, Bruno. Who said anything about kidnapping?”