The King Tides

Chapter 4 Soft Spot

Pearl met him at the front door wearing the sheepish expression of a man who’d just lost an argument with his wife. “Thank you for coming back. Melanie is anxious to meet you. This situation has made her a nervous wreck.”

Lancaster grunted under his breath. He didn’t like kissing ass, but on rare occasions he made exceptions. He followed Pearl through the house.

“May I offer you something to drink?” his host asked.

“No, thanks. Look, I can’t stay long. We’ve started our search in Melbourne and I need to focus my energy on that.”

Pearl stopped and spun around. “You must think we’re being very insensitive.”

“No, you’re being parents. I get that. I just happen to have another priority right now. Once it’s over, which hopefully will be soon, I can give you my full attention.”

“You seem confident you’re going to find this woman in Melbourne.”

“I am.”

He didn’t try to explain. He knew when his hunches were going to pay off, even when the rest of the world thought he was wrong.

Melanie Pearl awaited them on the lanai. She was an attractive woman with a short haircut and a trim figure, and he guessed she’d once been a nurse. It was only a guess, based upon the fact that nearly every male doctor he knew was married to a nurse, the profession producing a lot of couples. She looked her guest up and down and could not hide her displeasure.

“Thank you for saving my daughter’s life,” she said stiffly.

“Thank your husband. He called me.”

“Very well. Please have a seat.”

“No, thanks. I’m not staying for long. Your husband says you have a problem with his decision to hire me. Why is that?”

“How should I put this? You seem rather coarse. My daughter has been traumatized, and I don’t want to make things worse for her. Do you understand?”

“Not really.”

She chewed her lower lip, unsure of how to proceed. Her dilemma was written all over her face. Her vision of what her daughter’s protector should look like didn’t resemble the man standing before her.

“If I clean myself up and wear a nice shirt, will that work?” he asked.

“Is that an attempt to be sarcastic?”

“Look, Melanie, I won’t pretend to be something that I’m not. What you see is what you get, warts and all. Take it or leave it.”

She shot her husband a look. Pearl struggled to find the words that would convince her this was the right decision. Lancaster decided to help him out.

“Let’s cut to the chase. The two men in the cigarette boat were not normal kidnappers. Kidnappers want ransom money, and if they sense a problem, they switch targets. These men have another reason for wanting Nicki. Once I understand what their motive is, I’ll figure out a way to stop them.”

“You’ve dealt with men like this before.”

“Many times.”

She hesitated. “Can I think about this?”

“Take your time. It’s only your daughter’s life.”

“You’re not making this any easier.”

He’d muted his cell phone before coming into the house, and it now vibrated in his pocket. He excused himself and stepped off the lanai into the house to stare at the screen. Shorty had texted him. The bloodhounds had picked up Janey’s scent five blocks away from Slip Slide in a quiet residential street, only to have the trail go cold.

A Traccar app resided on his cell phone. With it, he’d be able to see for himself where the red dots had converged. A blank screen stared back at him. No Wi-Fi service. He went back onto the lanai to find Pearl and his wife having a heated debate.

“Do you have a house Wi-Fi that I can connect to?” he asked. “My case in Melbourne is about to break open, and I need to see what’s going on.”

Pearl gave him the password. Lancaster went into settings on his cell phone and entered it. No luck. His phone had a mind all its own, while his laptop tended to obey its master. He went outside to his car and got on his laptop while sitting behind the wheel. He entered the password and this time had better luck.

Pearl appeared at his window. “Are you working your other case?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Would you mind coming back inside? I want my wife to see you in action.”

“She doesn’t like me. I can’t change that.”

“But I can. Please.”

Pearl had a pleading look in his eyes. Lancaster had only one soft spot, and it was for people in trouble. He caved and followed Pearl back inside to the study. Melanie stood by a window, staring out at the crowded paradise that was South Florida.

“Melanie, I want you to see this,” Pearl said.

She moved to her husband’s side. Lancaster placed his laptop on the desk so its screen faced his hosts. Then he opened the Traccar app, and the map of Melbourne appeared, the red dots converged around a single spot.

“What are we looking at?” she asked.

“A cocktail waitress named Janey MacKenzie went missing three nights ago,” he said. “The local sheriff thinks Janey’s shacking up with a guy, and will show up in a few days. Her grandmother is convinced she was abducted, and hired me to find her.”

“Is the grandmother right?”

“Yes.” He pointed at the red dots. “These are a pack of bloodhounds with GPS trackers attached to their collars. They picked up Janey’s scent on a street between the cocktail lounge where Janey worked and her grandmother’s house, then the trail stopped. Here’s what I think happened. Janey was walking home after work and was approached by a patron offering to give her a lift. She accepted, and got into his car. He knocked her out and took her home. That’s my guess, anyway.”

“Do you think she’s dead?”

He shook his head. Janey’s abductor coveted her. Unless Janey angered him, he’d keep her alive until she no longer satisfied his perverse cravings, which might be several days or longer. Knowing that a patron was the culprit thinned the pool of suspects. But the bar was popular and had several dozen regulars.

He minimized the Traccar app and went into his video library. A black-and-white surveillance video taken of the Slip Slide’s parking lot appeared on his screen. The video was time-stamped and had been taken three nights ago. He had an idea and hit the Play icon.

“This is the cocktail lounge’s parking lot, taken the night Janey went missing,” he said. “Unfortunately, the light’s poor and it’s hard to make much out.”

“What exactly are you looking for?” Melanie asked.

“I want to determine the makes of cars that were at the bar. Most of the patrons live in town. Some walk to the bar after work, others ride motorcycles. Only a few drive cars. If I can learn the makes, I’ll contact the bartender on duty that night, and see if he can identify the owners. That should narrow down our pool of suspects.”

“Got it.”

The video continued to play. After a minute a door to the bar opened and a patron came outside. Light from inside the bar flooded the parking lot, and Lancaster froze the frame. Four vehicles were parked in the lot, but he was unable to determine the makes.

“Do you have a magnifying glass?” he asked.

Pearl produced a magnifying glass from his desk. Lancaster used it to study the frame and was able to make out two pickup trucks, a Mustang, and a vintage Corvette. He borrowed a pad and pen, and wrote down the makes along with any identifying dents or bumper stickers. He started to shut down the video, then had another idea, and sped the video up so the time stamp said 12:00 a.m.

“What are you doing now?” Melanie asked.

“Janey MacKenzie got off work at midnight and walked home. I want to see if any of the vehicles left right after her. That may very well be our suspect.”

“Got it.”

The video played for several minutes. It was too dark to see much of anything, and he waited for another patron to leave the bar. At 12:10 a.m., a man stumbled out, flooding the parking lot in light. Lancaster again froze the frame and studied it with the magnifying glass. The Pearls leaned in as well, their breath tingling the back of his neck.

“I see four cars,” Melanie Pearl said.

“So do I,” her husband said. “Could you be wrong about this, Jon?”

Lancaster heard his own sharp intake of breath. He was wrong. Janey’s abductor hadn’t used a car, he’d been on foot, and had intercepted Janey during her walk home. Janey was petite, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. Light enough for a big man to throw over his shoulder and carry home down a darkened street. That was why the trail had gone cold. He called Shorty.

“She’s in the neighborhood. Fan out, and start looking,” he said.