Allison Brennan - Sudden Death

The voice turned from friendly to dead serious. “Yes. Where’s Megan?”

“Rosemont’s accomplice kidnapped her. Karin Standler. The feds are working it, but she’s been missing an hour and no one knows where she is. Standler could have taken her anywhere, though most likely someplace driving distance from Santa Barbara.”

“I’m on it. Keep this phone on you, I might need information.” He hung up.

Jack felt marginally better calling in the cavalry. Rogan-Caruso was the top private security firm in the country. They would do everything they could to find her. Jack had to believe that.

“Jack-” Hans began.

“I’m calling Dillon,” Jack interrupted. “He knows this stuff.” Walking away from Hans and the others, he dialed his brother on his own cell, keeping Megan’s free for a call back from Caruso.

“Jack?”

“Megan’s gone. Kidnapped by Rosemont’s accomplice.”

“Megan knows the woman.” Dillon stated it as a fact.

“Yes. It’s her former partner. Karin Standler shot Megan during a fucked-up operation and was fired, but Megan said it was deliberate, not an accident. Get into her head, Dillon. I need to find Megan now.”

Dillon said quietly, “I’m not psychic, Jack. I need information.”

“I don’t know anything!” Jack ran his hand over his head, staring at the ocean without seeing the setting sun. “Where would Karin Standler take Megan?”

Dillon began slowly. “We need to assume that Agent Elliott was the target all along. That however Karin became involved with Rosemont, her primary purpose was to abduct and torture Megan. Which means she’s most likely still alive.”

“I already know that. She’s alive, and about to suffer horribly if I can’t find her. If I know where she is, I can extract her. That’s all I need, a location.”

“Is the FBI running property records? Credit? Any-”

“Yes, all of it. Megan is one of theirs, they’re doing everything they can.” Megan is mine.

“Does Hans know this woman?”

“Yes. He was Standler’s boss back then.”

“Put him on the phone.”

Jack motioned for Hans to come over. “It’s Dillon.” Jack put it on speaker. He wasn’t about to miss any of it.

“What have you got?” Hans asked.

“Do you have any of Standler’s aliases?”

“No, though we’re pursuing a lead at a hotel near the resort where General Hackett was killed. During the canvass, officers found a witness who saw a woman in a red bathing suit and sarong enter through a side door with a card key. She looked disheveled and matched the description we had from the bartender. We now think she registered under the alias Erin Hunter and are pursuing that lead.”

“What about Russo?” Jack said. “And the elderly people she conned?”

“Rubin,” Hans said. “Hannah Rubin.”

“What’s this about a con?” Dillon asked. “I need to know how she’s pulled all this off.”

Hans explained how Karin passed herself off as the long-dead daughter of an elderly couple in order to get close to Ken Russo. “That’s where she got Price’s dog tags, and likely where she found the location of the other Delta team members. She was there for five months.”

“Do you know anyone else she conned? Where are her parents? Siblings?”

“She’s an only child. Her father was a Virginia Supreme Court judge killed in a car accident when she was twelve. Her mother committed suicide twelve years ago. Right before she almost killed Megan.”

“Did anything else lead up to that attack on Megan?”

“Meg said she was quietly investigating Karin’s actions in the field. She felt that she’d shot a suspect without provocation, then reviewed all Karin’s reports and learned she had a high rate of shootings. Karin found out, according to Meg, and tried to kill her by setting up a sting for a fugitive and putting Meg in the line of fire.”

“And she’s not in prison?”

“There was no proof to Meg’s accusation, and Karin was diagnosed with severe depression. Her mother had just killed herself. Three psychiatrists, one FBI and two independent, all came to the same conclusion.”

“How long was Megan looking into Karin’s record?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Longer than three weeks?”

Hans said, “It was longer than a month. Meg never came to me about it, though. Why didn’t she say something?”

“And accuse her partner of being a vigilante killer?” Jack said. “She wanted proof. Cross her f s and dot her ‘s, especially something this serious.”

Dillon said over the speaker, “I’d bet my life savings that Karin killed her mother. How did she die?”

“Carbon monoxide poisoning. There was a suicide note.”

“Typed? On a computer?”

“Printed. But Crystal Standler’s prints were on the keys, no one else’s. Believe me, the FBI looked into the suicide after Karin’s actions.”

“I’ll still bet my reputation that Karin killed her mother or forced her to kill herself.”

“This doesn’t help us find Megan!” Jack said. “They’ve been gone over an hour.”

“Two things. Karin has taken Megan to a secluded place where she can be confident that not only will no one hear Megan, but they wouldn’t know where to look. The property will likely belong to someone she knows, who is either dead and the land is in probate, or it was willed to her but she never changed the ownership. Possibly property that is owned by the elderly couple-the Rubins-if they own any, but it would have been purchased in their name when she was living with them and they might not even know about it.”

“So we run property searches for the Rubins, Judge Standler, Crystal Standler-”

“Did Crystal remarry?”

“I believe so, but she was a widow when she died.”

“Check that husband’s name as well. And Ken Russo, plus any of the other victims, though I don’t think she did that. She’ll want to feel perfectly secure, and that means a place set up ahead of time that she doesn’t think anyone will find.”

“Why not break into a vacant house?” Jack asked.

“She wants a base camp. A place where she feels safe, in control, and away from prying eyes. She’ll take Megan to the one place she thinks she can do anything to her and not be discovered.”

“Dillon,” Hans interjected, “there is no national property records search. We have to go state by state. It’ll take days.”

“She’s close,” Dillon said. “She’s not going to want to drive for three days. I’d guess twelve hours, tops. Start in those states.”

“California, Oregon, Nevada, Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, maybe Montana, Idaho, and Washington. That’s still a lot of territory.”

“Then we’d better get started,” Jack said. “Are you sure we’re not just chasing our tails? If this takes hours and doesn’t lead anywhere …”

“I’m confident in my assessment, Jack.”

Jack had a hard time trusting anyone, even his brother. But Dillon had proven himself in the past; Jack had no choice but to trust him now.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“She means something to you.”

“Yes.”

“You’ll find her.”

“God, I hope so.”

“Where’s your friend, Father Francis?”

“Hidalgo. Why?”

“There’s something to that. I’ve been reading Rosemont’s records in more depth. He was extremely obsessive-compulsive.”

“Which means?”

“Father Francis should have died.”

“We already figured they didn’t have the time to kill both Scout and Padre, or were interrupted.”

“No. Rosemont wouldn’t have left unless it was complete, or it would bother him so deeply he would be compelled to return.”