Hunter squeezed is eyes shut. Hearing his deepest fears said aloud gutted him.
Dennis walked into the living room, paused, then waved Hunter toward him. “I think I have her.”
“What?” Hunter lowered the phone and followed Dennis downstairs.
The police were close behind.
One of the cops whistled as they walked into the wine cellar recently converted into the command post of surveillance.
Three of the monitors were full screens, all of them frozen. Dennis sat and started clicking as he spoke.
Hunter put the phone on speaker. “You hearing all this, Neil?”
“I am.”
Dennis rolled the first screen.
Hunter watched as he saw Gabi jump into the passenger seat of the Maserati and Connor peel out of the garage.
They crashed on Sunset, Gabi had said.
Dennis pointed at the screen. “Notice how Connor is constantly looking out the back window?”
“He saw someone behind him,” Delgado observed.
“Probably.”
It appeared that Connor had racked up a dozen moving violations as they approached Sunset.
Hunter heard the phone ring on the recording.
“This is me calling him . . . letting him know that you and Solomon were fine and the call was a setup.”
Gabi was tossed around when Connor swung the car around.
Hold on, were the last words before it appeared someone hit the car from behind. An explosion of white filled the frame.
“Airbags,” Dennis said.
Hunter was relieved to hear Gabi’s shaken voice call Connor’s name.
Connor was muttering, but Hunter couldn’t make out what he said. The camera was knocked out of place, not giving them a shot of Gabi’s face, but Hunter saw her attempt to reach Connor with her broken arm. He could hear her breathing heavily as she called his name.
The door to the car opened and a male face filled the frame.
Dennis froze the frame, looked behind him to the cops. “That’s our guy.”
“Keep rolling,” Hunter said.
The man in the frame used Gabi’s name. Rolled his r’s in a slow, seductive way.
Do I know you?
Her captor simply smiled.
They all heard Gabi offer a gasp and then a sigh.
When he lifted her from the car, she was limp.
“What did he do to her?”
“Chloroform, drugs . . . hard to tell,” Dennis said matter-of-factly.
Hunter fisted his hands.
Dennis flipped to the next screen. “Here’s the GPS. I’ll run this with the video and you can see where the problem is, and possibly the location of Gabi.”
His eyes darted back and forth between the video of the car footage and the blip on the map. The second the car crashed, the GPS blinked out. When Gabi was lifted from the car, it blipped again in the same location for ten seconds, then it went dark. When it blipped again, it was a quarter mile down Sunset. It was dark. On the other monitor, bystanders were poking their heads into the car telling Connor an ambulance was on the way.
“I’m going to fast-forward.” Dennis pushed both videos forward.
Hunter heard his own voice frantically calling for Gabi.
“Wait, can you back that up?” Delgado asked.
Dennis pushed a button, only for Hunter to hear his plea again.
“Your driver is saying something.”
Dennis rewound again, turned up the sound.
W-L-H-six-four-nine.
Delgado, Solomon, and Dennis all said, “License plate.”
Delgado turned to his partner. “Run it.”
The other cop turned away and spoke into his radio.
“This is about thirty minutes ago.” Dennis showed the blip on the GPS. It glowed steady for a few seconds, then blinked off.
“And this was ten minutes ago.”
“It’s in the same spot.”
Dennis offered a nod.
Hunter poked a finger on the screen. “Zoom in.”
“Holy crap.”
“That’s two blocks over,” Delgado said.
Hunter stood tall and turned for the stairs.
Delgado stopped him with his arm. “Where you going, Blackwell?”
“To save my wife.”
“Slow down.”
Hunter pulled out of his grip and glared.
“He’s right, Mr. B. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
“Neil?” Hunter yelled to the phone.
No reply.
Dennis lifted the receiver. “Not here.”
Delgado lifted both hands. “We’ll bring in SWAT, hostage negotiators . . . we do this right and no one gets hurt.”
“Don’t forget your father. We don’t know if he’s in there,” Solomon said.
Delgado stepped forward. “Your father?”
Dennis shrugged. “Hostage number two.”
“Damn it.” Delgado lifted a finger in front of Hunter’s face. “No one goes anywhere. Don’t make me arrest you, Blackwell.” The cop turned and walked up the stairs.