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A Trace of Crime

“That was Dr. Feeney,” he said. “He buys the con man theory too. He thinks this guy’s faking the crazy stuff and just wants the money.”

Great. Every lead we have has gone nowhere and now the unit consensus is that this guy is just a run of the mill kidnapper.

Keri couldn’t explain it, even to herself. But her instincts were telling her that the consensus was dangerously wrong; that this kidnapper was something else entirely. And she feared that if they didn’t get on the right track soon, Jessica Rainey would pay the price.

CHAPTER SIX

As the minutes leading up to the drop passed, Keri tried to ignore the pit of anxiety growing in her stomach. Time was running short and Keri felt like they were losing options fast. She actively told herself not to lose hope, to remember that Jessica was out there somewhere, desperately waiting for someone to find her.

Since the FedEx office and Jessica’s backpack and phone were dead ends, the team began pursuing less case-specific, and therefore less promising, options.

Edgerton put the case parameters into a federal database to see if there was any record of similar kidnappings. The results would come in soon but culling through them would be time-consuming.

He also input the ransom note in the system on the off chance that the language checked the boxes of any previous letters. That was a long shot. If a letter this strange had been sent to someone before, they felt confident they would have heard about it.

Suarez was looking at a list of registered sex offenders who lived in the area to see if any of them had a record of this kind of crime. Castillo had gone to the park to prep for surveillance. Brody had left the station, claiming he was going to talk to some of his street informants. Keri suspected he’d just gone out to get something else to eat.

She and Ray pored through old case files, looking for any old or unsolved cases that matched Jessica’s. It was possible that this was the work of someone back out on the streets after a long prison stretch. If that was the situation, it would predate either of their time on the force and they wouldn’t remember the particulars. Neither of them thought the exercise would bear fruit but they weren’t sure what else to do.

After over an hour without success they headed out. It was almost 10 p.m. and she and Ray were returning to the Rainey house. It was the same route they’d taken that morning, when everything had been normal, right up until the moment he’d asked her out. Both of them were aware of that fact, but they were too busy to allow that to get in their way at the moment.

As they drove, Ray was on the phone with Detective Garrett Patterson, who was still at the station coordinating the surveillance for the drop location, Chace Park.

Patterson, a quiet, bookish guy in his thirties, was a tech geek like Edgerton. But unlike his younger colleague, Patterson seemed content to focus on the minutiae of cases. He loved activities like poring over phone records and comparing IP addresses, so much so that it had gotten him the nickname Grunt Work, which he didn’t mind at all.

Patterson wasn’t the kind of detective who was going to make instinctive leaps of deduction. But he could be counted on to set up a thorough perimeter of video and electronic surveillance that would be both effective and undetectable.

“They’re prepped,” Ray told her as he hung up. “The surveillance team is in place. Manny is headed over to Rainey’s boss’s place now to accompany him and the money to the remote headquarters in the van at the Waterside shopping center.”

“Great,” Keri said. “While you were talking, I had an idea. I have a friend I know from when I used to live on the houseboat in the marina. He has a sailboat and I bet he’d take us out so we could observe the drop area from the water. What do you think?”

“I say reach out,” Ray said. “The more eyes we can get on the drop area without being noticed, the better.”

Keri texted her friend, a crusty old sailor named Butch. He was actually less of a friend than a sometime drinking companion who liked scotch as much as she did. After she lost Evie, her marriage, and her job in quick succession, she’d bought a decrepit old houseboat in the marina and lived there for several years.

Butch was a friendly, retired Navy man who liked to call her “Copper,” didn’t ask about her past, and was happy to swap professional war stories with her. At the time, that was exactly the kind of companionship she was looking for. But since she’d moved from the marina to her apartment and significantly reduced her alcohol consumption, they hadn’t hung out much recently.

Apparently he wasn’t holding a grudge as she heard back almost immediately with a text that read: “no problem – see you soon, Copper.”

“We’re good,” she told Ray, then let her mind drift to something that had been eating at her. She didn’t realize how long she’d been quiet until Ray broke into her thoughts.

“What is it, Keri?” Ray asked expectantly. “I can tell you’re turning some clue over in your head.”

Once again Keri marveled at how he seemed capable of reading her mind.

“It’s just the drop. Something about it bugs me. Why would this guy, assuming it’s a guy, give us the location so early? He must know that if the Raineys contacted us, we’d have hours to do exactly what we’re doing – establish a perimeter, install surveillance, gather manpower. Why give us a head start? I understand demanding the money early to give them time to gather it. But if it was me, I’d call at eleven forty-five p.m. to reveal the drop location and say the meet was at midnight.”

“Fair question,” he agreed. “And it fits with your suspicion that he doesn’t really care about the money.”

“I don’t want to belabor it, but I really don’t think he does,” she said.

“So what do you think he cares about?” Ray asked.

Keri had been mulling this over in her head and was happy for the opportunity to share it out loud.

“Whoever this guy is, I think he’s fixated on Jessica. I feel like he knows her or has at least met her. He’s been watching her.”

“That fits. Everything suggests he’s been planning this for a while.”

“Exactly. Those special sunglasses he used at FedEx, knowing where the cameras were there, abducting her at the perfect time when she was out of sight of the school but not yet to her mother, in a part of the neighborhood where no neighbors had exterior security cameras. These are all signs of someone who has been working on this for a long time.”

“That makes sense. But the security officer at the school came up empty with staff. I checked again at the station. No teachers had records of anything more than parking tickets.”

“What about school janitors or bus drivers?”

“They’re employed through outside companies. But everyone who comes in contact with the school has to pass a background check. We can go through the list again. But the guy was pretty thorough.”

“Okay then, what about employees at businesses along her bike route or construction workers on a house being built nearby – people who would see her every day and be familiar with her routine and who have a record?”

“Those are good leads we can pursue in the morning. But I’m hoping we nab this guy tonight and none of that is necessary.”

They pulled up to the Rainey house and noticed a police car parked far down the block. It had been instructed not to park too close to the house in case the abductor drove by. They walked to the door and knocked. An officer opened it immediately and they stepped inside.

“How are they doing?” Ray asked him quietly.

“The mom has spent most of her time upstairs with the little boy, trying to keep him busy,” the officer replied.

“And keep herself busy,” Keri added.

“I think so,” the officer agreed. “The dad has been mostly quiet. He’s spent a lot of time studying the park layout on his laptop. He’s been asking us all kinds of questions about our surveillance, most of which we don’t have answers to.”

“Okay, thanks,” Ray said. “Hopefully we can provide a few.”

Just as the officer said, Tim Rainey was seated at the kitchen table, with a Google map of Burton Chace Park on his laptop screen.

“Hi, Mr. Rainey,” Keri said. “We understand you have a few questions.”

Rainey looked up and for a moment, barely seemed to recognize them. Then his eyes focused and he nodded.

“I have a lot actually.”

“Go ahead,” Ray said.

“Okay. The note said not to contact the authorities. How are you going to keep from being seen?”

“First, we’ve set up hidden cameras throughout the park,” Ray answered. “We’ll be able to monitor them remotely from a van in a nearby parking lot. Also, the park is populated by some homeless people and we’ve dressed up an officer accordingly to fit in. She’s been there for hours so as not to draw suspicion from the others. We’ll have people at the Windjammers Yacht Club next door, watching from a second-floor room with tinted glass. One of them is a sniper.”

Keri saw Tim Rainey’s eyes widen but he said nothing as Ray continued.

“We’ll have an overhead drone available but won’t use it unless absolutely necessary. It’s almost silent and can operate up to five hundred feet. But we don’t want to take any chances with that. In total, we’ll have almost a dozen officers offsite but within sixty seconds of the location to assist you if things go south. That includes Detective Locke and myself. We’ll be on a civilian boat in the marina, far enough away to avoid suspicion but close enough to watch events through binoculars. We’ve thought this through, Mr. Rainey.”

“Okay, that’s obvious. So what exactly do I need to do?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Ray said. “That’s what we’re here to go over now. Why don’t we prep right here, since you already have the map up?”

He and Keri sat down on either side of Rainey and she took over.

“So you’re supposed to meet him on the bridge between the pergolas at the back of the park near the water. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do,” Keri said. “The park itself will be officially closed so you can’t park in the metered lot. That’s probably partly why he’s doing this at midnight. Any car in the lot would look suspicious. You’ll park in the public lot a block away. We’ll give you change. All you have to do is park, pay, and walk toward the drop area. Does all this make sense so far?”

“Yes,” Rainey said. “When will I get the ransom money?”

“You’re going to pick it up at Waterside shopping center near the park.”

“What if the kidnapper is watching?”

“That’s okay,” Keri assured him. “Your boss will be making the handoff to you, right in front of the Bank of America ATMs. He’s being prepped by one of our detectives right now. There will be officers in the area, also out of sight, in case the abductor tries to grab the money then.”

“Are you tagging the money with some kind of GPS locator?”

“We are,” Ray admitted, jumping in, “and the bag too. But the locators are all very small. The one in the bag will be sewn into the stitching. The tags placed on the money are tiny, clear stickers placed on individual bills. Even if he found the exact bills, the tags are very hard to see.”

Keri knew why Ray had answered that question. It was clear from Rainey’s sour expression that he wasn’t happy about the locators. He didn’t say it but they could tell that he was worried they might put Jessica at risk.

Ray had spoken up so he would be the bearer of that unwelcome information. That way, the rapport and trust Keri was developing with the anxious father wouldn’t be undermined. Keri nodded her imperceptible thanks to her partner. Rainey didn’t seem to notice. She could tell he was agitated by what Ray had said but didn’t object. He moved on.

“So what do I do next?’ he asked Keri, pointedly looking away from Ray.

“Like I said before, after you get the ransom money, drive to the parking lot a block from Chace Park. Then just get out and walk to the bridge between the pergolas. There will be officers in the area but you won’t see them. And it’s not your job to worry about any of that. All you have to do is go to the bridge with the money.”

“What happens when he arrives?” Rainey wanted to know.

“You’re going to ask for your daughter. In theory, he’s going to be under the impression that you’re alone. So it won’t feel right if you just give him the money without a fight. He’d get suspicious. I seriously doubt he’ll have brought her with him. He may give you a location. He might tell you he’ll text you the location once he’s safely away. He might say he’ll FedEx the location – ”

“You don’t think she’ll be there?” Rainey interrupted.

“I’d be very surprised. He’d be giving up all his leverage if he had her with him. His best bet to keep you in line is to keep you in fear for Jessica’s safety. You need to prepare yourself for the likelihood that she won’t be there.”

“I understand. What next?”

“After you express your misgivings about giving up the money, give up the money. Don’t try to negotiate some other plan with him. Don’t try to overpower him. He might be jumpy. He’ll probably be armed. We don’t want to do anything that will cause a confrontation.”

Tim Rainey nodded reluctantly. Keri didn’t like his vibe and decided she needed to be more forceful.

“Mr. Rainey. I need your promise that you won’t do anything foolish. Our best bet is for him to either tell you where to find your daughter or return to her after the drop. Even if he tells you nothing, don’t panic. We will track him. When the time is right, we will apprehend him. If you take matters into your own hands, it could end badly for both you and Jessica. Are we clear on that, sir?”

“Yes. Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything to put Jessica at risk.”

“Of course not,” Keri said reassuringly despite her doubts. “What you will do is complete the drop, return to your car, and drive back here. We’ll deal with everything else as it comes, okay?”

“Will you be putting a microphone on me?” he asked, notably not answering her directly.

“Yes,” Ray said, jumping in again, “and a tiny camera as well. Neither will be noticeable, especially at night. But the camera may help us identify him. And the audio will let us know if you’re in any danger.”

“Will we be able to communicate?”

“No,” Ray told him. “I mean, we’ll obviously be able to hear you. But giving you an earpiece would be risky. He might see it. And we want you to stay focused on what you need to do.”

“One more thing,” Keri added. “There’s a chance he may not show up at all. He could get spooked and back out. He might never have intended to come. Be prepared for that as well.”

“Do you think that’s what going to happen?” Rainey asked. He clearly had never even considered the possibility.

Keri gave him the most truthful answer she could muster.

“I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen. But we’re about to find out.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Keri thought she might be sick. It was almost funny. After all, she’d lived on a floating houseboat for several years. But floating on a sailboat in open channel waters while holding binoculars to her eyes for long stretches was a different proposition.

Butch had offered to drop anchor on the Pipsqueak but both Keri and Ray worried that a stationary boat in the water might look suspicious. Of course, a boat aimlessly traipsing back and forth wasn’t much better.

After about fifteen minutes of that, Butch suggested they loiter near a dock across the channel from the park, where at least the other boats would make them stand out less. Keri, uncertain that she could hold off the nausea much longer, jumped at the suggestion.

They found an unoccupied spot and lingered there as midnight drew near. The biting winter wind howled outside. Sitting on the small bench near the window, Keri could hear the water lapping loudly against the hull. She embraced it, trying to match her breathing to its rhythm. She felt the knot in her stomach start to loosen and the sweat on her brow subside a bit.

It was 11:57 p.m. Keri put the binoculars to her eyes again and looked across the water at the park. Ray, several feet over, was doing the same.

“See anything?” Butch asked from up above. He was excited to be a part of a police operation and was having a hard time hiding it. This was probably the most eventful thing to happen to him in years.

He was the same crusty guy she remembered, defined by his weather-beaten skin, his shock of unbrushed white hair, and the perpetual smell of liquor on his breath. Under normal circumstances, operating a boat in his condition was a violation. But she was willing to let it slide considering the situation.

“There are some trees partially blocking the view,” she whispered back loudly. “And it’s hard to see with the glare from the window, even with the lights out down here.”

“I can’t do anything about the trees,” Butch said. “But you know, the windows open part way.”

“I didn’t know that,” she admitted.

“How long did you live on that boat?” Ray asked.

Keri, happily surprised that he was willing to engage in teasing, stuck her tongue out at him before adding, “Apparently not long enough.”

A voice came over their comms, interrupting the most natural moment they’d had all day. It was Lieutenant Hillman.

“All units be advised. This is Unit One. The messenger has the cargo, has parked, and is en route to the destination on foot.”

Hillman was one of the people stationed on the second floor of the Windjammers Club, which had a good vantage point of much of the park, including the bridge. He was using pre-assigned non-specific terms for everyone involved to avoid sharing too much information over communication lines, which always seemed to be hacked by curious citizens who liked to listen in on police traffic. Rainey was the messenger. The bag of money was the cargo. The bridge was the destination. The kidnapper would be referred to as the subject and Jessica would be the asset.

“This is Unit Four. I can see the destination,” Keri said, finally finding an angle with a clear view of the bridge. “There’s no one visible in the vicinity.”

“This is Unit Two,” came the voice of Officer Jamie Castillo, who was playing the role of the homeless woman in the park. “The messenger has just passed my location west of the community building near the cafe. The only other people I see are two homeless individuals. Both of them have been here all afternoon. Both appear to be sleeping.”

“Keep an eye on those individuals, Unit Two,” Hillman said. “We don’t know what the subject looks like. Anything is possible.”

“Copy that, Unit One.”

“I hope you guys can hear me,” a nervous-sounding Tim Rainey whispered loudly into his lavalier microphone. “I’m in the park and headed toward the bridge.”

“Ugh,” Ray muttered under his breath. “Are we going to get a running commentary from this guy?”

Keri scowled at him.

“He’s nervous, Ray. Cut him some slack.”

“All units be advised. This is HQ,” Manny Suarez said from the van in the shopping center parking lot that served as mobile headquarters. “We have eyes on the entire area and there is no movement at this point besides the messenger, who is fifty yards from the destination.”

Keri looked at her watch. 11:59 p.m. In the distance she heard the motor of a boat at the far end of the marina’s main channel. Seals, who liked to sunbathe on the docks in the day, were calling out to one another. Other than that, the wind, and the waves, it was silent.

“Movement along Mindanao Way approaching the park,” came an unfamiliar, agitated voice.

“Identify your unit,” Hillman barked, “and don’t use proper names.”

“Sorry, sir. This is Unit Three. There is a vehicle approaching the park along…the street leading up to it. It appears to be a motorcycle.”

Keri realized who Unit Three was – Officer Roger Gentry. West LA wasn’t the largest division of LAPD and they were short on available manpower at this hour, so Hillman had pulled in every unassigned officer and that included Gentry. He was a rookie, on the job less than a year, about as long as Castillo but far less confident or, apparently, capable.

“Does anyone else have eyes?” Hillman asked.

“Can anybody else hear that?” Tim Rainey asked way too loudly, apparently forgetting no one could reply to him. “It sounds like someone’s coming.”

“This is Unit Two,” Castillo said from her makeshift nook near the community center. “I have eyes. It is a motorcycle. Can’t identify from my location but it’s small, a Honda, I think. Only a driver. It has entered the park and is traveling along the south edge of the service road in the general direction of the destination and the messenger.”

Keri saw the bike now too, speeding along the service road that skirted the edge of the park near the water. She turned her attention to Tim Rainey, who was standing stiffly in the middle of the bridge, his right hand tightly clutching the bag.

“This is Unit One,” Hillman announced. “We have rifle on standby, prepared to assist. Does anyone have an updated visual on the vehicle?”

“This is Unit Four,” Ray said. “We have a visual. Solo rider is traveling about fifty miles per hour along the edge of the service road. Vehicle is turning right, that’s north, in the general direction of the destination.”

“I think it’s someone on a motorcycle,” Tim Rainey said. “Can anyone tell who it is? Is it the guy? Does he have Jess?”

“Unit Four, this is Unit One,” Hillman said, ignoring the chatter from Rainey. “Do you see any weapons? Rifle, stand ready.”

“Rifle ready,” came the voice of the sniper next to Hillman in the second-floor room of the yacht club.

“This is Unit Four,” Ray replied. “I don’t see any weapons. But my visual is compromised by darkness and the speed of the vehicle.”

“Rifle on my mark,” Hillman said.

“On your mark,” the sniper replied calmly.

Keri watched as the driver of the bike hit the brakes and did a sudden, dramatic wheelie. When the front wheel hit the road again, the driver forced the bike in a tight donut, circling three times before coming out of it and speeding back in the direction from which it came.

“This is Unit Four,” she said quickly. “Stand down. Repeat, recommend Rifle stand down. I think we’ve got a late-night joyrider on our hands.”

“Rifle, stand down,” Hillman ordered.

Sure enough, the bike continued back the way it had come, down the service road and through the metered parking lot. She lost sight of it when it got back on Mindanao.

“Who has eyes on the messenger?” Hillman asked urgently.

“This is Unit Four,” Keri continued. “The messenger is shaken but unharmed. He’s standing there, unsure how to proceed.”

“Frankly, I’m unsure too,” Hillman admitted. “Let’s just keep alert, people. That may have been a decoy.”

“Is anyone coming to get me?” Rainey asked, as if in response to Hillman. “Should I just stay here? I’m going to assume I should stay here unless I hear different.”

“God, I wish he’d shut up,” Ray muttered, putting his hand over his mic so only Keri and Butch could hear him. Keri didn’t respond.

After about ten minutes, Keri saw Rainey, still standing in the middle of the bridge, check his phone.

“I hope you can hear me,” he said. “I just got a text. It says ‘By involving the authorities, you have betrayed my trust. You have sacrificed the opportunity to redeem the child sinner. I must now determine whether to remove the demon myself or forgive your insubordination and allow you one more chance to purify her soul. Her fate was in your hands. Now it is in mine.’ He knew you were here. All your elaborate planning was for nothing. And now I have no idea whether he’ll even reach out to me again. You might have killed my daughter!”

He screamed the last line, his voice cracking in fury. Keri could hear his voice across the marina even as it came over the comm. She saw him drop to his knees, let go of the bag, put his hands to his face, and begin weeping. His pain felt intimately familiar.

It was the anguished cry of a parent who believed his child was lost to him forever. She recognized it because she had wept the same way when her own daughter had been taken and she could do nothing to stop it.

Keri rushed out of the boat cabin and just made it up on deck in time to vomit over the side into the ocean.