Page 72 of The Drowned Woman
“Any sightings of Massimo?” Luka asked.
“No. I’ve got NYPD watching his apartment and office, and the staties are monitoring all the LPRs, but so far no joy.” The automated license plate readers covered most of the interstates and the turnpike, but Chaos was too smart for that. Luka was certain he’d stick to back roads. Plus, the man no doubt had an escape plan ready to go. Given his diversion this morning with Vogel, he was already hours ahead of them.
“Did you ever get a chance to get Jack O’Brien’s statement? He seemed suspicious of Massimo before anyone else.”
“No, sorry.” Krichek sounded abashed. “I got too busy with—”
“No apologies necessary. I just saw him head down Old River Road toward the old pumping station.”
“I think Keystone uses that place for water monitoring. O’Brien’s probably trying to get some work in before he and Risa take off. Ahearn gave him permission to take her to a hotel in DC until we catch this actor. That way they’ll be close enough to come back if we need them for anything and in the meantime, the feds can protect them better than we can.”
More likely Ahearn was using the feds to avoid paying for the overtime it would take for their people to watch over Risa. Luka switched his indicator to left. “I’ll get O’Brien on record before I head back in.”
“Great, I’ll cross it off my to-do list.” Krichek was clearly enjoying the new responsibility he had been given. It was the best of all worlds for a detective: gaining valuable experience without the administrative hassles that came with Luka’s job, the job McKinley was temporarily tasked with.
But only temporarily, Luka promised himself as he turned down Old River Road. Somehow Luka was going to find a way to be there when they nailed Chaos. Cherise deserved that much.
Forty-Four
Leah woke in darkness. Memories flooded over her. A visceral image of finding Ian’s body, her feelings of terror and anguish. The same terror that threatened to overwhelm her now. She was panting, breathing too fast, and forced herself to close her eyes and take slow deep breaths.
Her skull throbbed, her mouth was parched, and every muscle in her body felt twisted with cramps. What happened? The question slogged through the mire of her mind. She’d seen something—no,someone.
She blinked, the slight movement reverberating through her head, releasing more pain. She licked her lips, swallowed, and took another breath. A cloth hood covered her head. The air inside it tasted strange, sickly sweet. Yet, strangely familiar. Her lips and the skin around her mouth burned. Slowly, painfully, she took inventory of the rest of her body.
There was a distinct area of throbbing pain between her shoulder blades. Her hands were bound behind her, numb as her weight rested against them. Thin plastic bit into her wrists—zip ties? Her legs were free, and she could stretch them out without hitting anything. Relief flooded over her as the image of Cliff’s hogtied body filled her vision. She wasn’t in a car trunk, thank God. The floor felt like rough concrete, cold and damp, but not wet.
Her muscles protested when she tried to sit up, so she compromised, rolling first onto her side, releasing the weight against her hands, waiting for the pins and needles to subside and feeling to return as she rubbed the cloth covering her head against the floor, finally sliding her face free.
The room—a cellar?—felt expansive but the darkness was almost complete. No matter how much she blinked, her vision remained blurred, but as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she realized there was a faint shadow of light coming from above. A partially covered window? Or maybe it was night? How much time had she lost?
She made out silhouettes of what appeared to be large pieces of equipment—a boiler, maybe? The building smelled old; more than that, it smelled wet, like algae and mildew. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw a row of several large pipes coming out of the floor to connect to the larger piece of equipment. Then she shifted her gaze to the wall behind her and realized that the patch of darkness against the floor was a human body.
“Hello?” she called softly as she scraped her aching body over the concrete floor. No response. Who was it? She strained to remember what had happened before she blacked out. Risa, she’d been with Risa… Risa and Jack.
She scanned the room, her vision slowly clearing, but didn’t see anyone else. Only one person. What had happened to the other?
Finally, she reached the other person. Like her, their head was covered with a hood. As soon as Leah stretched her arms behind her back to pull the covering loose, she realized it was a woman.
“Risa?” She rocked her body to shake Risa, was rewarded with a low moaning. “Risa, wake up!”
Risa sputtered and groaned. Leah twisted her body around to face her. Risa’s eyes blinked open. “Wha—” Her voice was gravelly. She licked her lips, tried again. “Where?” Then she arched up, eyes wide with panic, arms flailing behind her. “No, no! Jack, where’s Jack?”
“Did you see who took us?”
“No.” She shook her head as if trying to clear cobwebs. “I didn’t see. Did you?”
“No, but Jack did.” Leah measured her words, the memory slowly coming together. “He tried to warn me, but it was too late.”
“Where is he? Is he okay?”
“I don’t know.” Leah fought through the fog clouding her brain. “Think, though. Chaos won’t hurt him. Because if he killed Jack, you’d have no reason to cooperate.”
“Maybe he’s holding him hostage like us?” Risa slumped against the wall behind her. “Dom never liked Jack. Even if he doesn’t kill him, he might still hurt him.” She was silent for a moment then stared at Leah. “What are you doing here? Why did he take you?”
“I think it’s because I found out he was drugging you.”
“We already knew that.”
