Макс Коллинз - You Can’t Stop Me

“Good catch,” Harrow said.

Always nice to get a compliment from the boss, but Choi didn’t feel like celebrating.

On his feet again, Harrow said to the assistant manager, “Call the police — tell them that J.C. Harrow’s group has a missing person here at the motel, and we think it’s an abduction.”

The woman’s eyes were big and her mouth hung open, but she remained motionless.

“Go,” Harrow said.

The woman swallowed, nodded, and trundled off down the hall like a reluctant tank moving into battle.

Harrow got out his cell and punched a speed-dial number.

“Laurene?” he asked.

Choi could not hear her response.

Harrow told her, “Carmen’s been taken. Bring your crime scene kit to her room, now.”

He told Laurene to send the rest of the team ahead to the PD to keep working the serial killer case. This was likely the same unsub, and they needed to find him.

When Harrow got off the phone, Choi asked, “You really think it’s him? You think it’s our bull’s-eye guy?”

Harrow sighed. “We’re in a town with less than seven thousand people, and other than the police chief and a few other cops, we don’t know anybody here. Carmen didn’t know anybody. Yet it looks like someone got her to open the door, Tasered her, then abducted her.”

“Taser?” Choi asked.

“One drop of blood, and only one drop of blood — what do you think would cause a wound that wouldn’t bleed any more than that?”

Choi lifted an eyebrow. “Taser.”

Harrow made another call, this one to Chief Walker. He explained the situation, told the chief what they were doing, and clicked off.

“How’s the chief feel about us getting involved?” Choi asked. “I mean, this isn’t our crime scene...”

“He’s up for the help. He’d have to wait for the state crime lab to come down, do what we’re doing, and then maybe wait a month for the results. Right now, we’re Walker’s favorite visitors.”

Laurene came up to the open doorway at a trot.

“What the hell happened?” she asked, as she set down her big metal crime scene case in the hall, just outside.

Harrow pointed out the stain on the carpet and explained what they figured had happened.

Laurene’s upper lip curled nastily. “She just opened the door, and let this asshole take her? What does she think peepholes are for?”

“She’s not a police professional, Laurene. We’re all housed in this motel like a bunch of kids on their way to the big game. She thought it was one of us.”

“Gonna have to have a talk with the girl.”

Choi said, “Really think that’ll be necessary?”

Harrow said, “Cut the crap, boys and girls. You are our two crime scene analysts. Go over the scene fast. The cops are on their way.”

Laurene’s eyes widened. “And they’re fine with us taking over their crime scene?”

“I’ve cleared it with Chief Walker. Anyway, if there’s evidence, I want us to be the ones that find it.”

“ That I get,” Laurene said.

As she went to work, Billy said to Harrow, “You don’t need two of us to process this small a scene.”

“Get the security video for the motel, and any business around here that has it. Then grab one of these cops who are about to show up, and have him drive you to the PD. Get the chief to set you up in a room and find something on that video we can use to track this son of a bitch.”

That didn’t require a reply, and Choi didn’t offer one, just tore down the corridor the moment Harrow was done. Choi found the dowdy assistant manager in the office off the check-in, hanging up the phone.

“Police are on their way,” she said.

“Good. How many security cameras do you have?”

The woman had to think about that, then she ticked them off on her fingers. “Parking lot out front, lot on the side, lobby... then there’s three where the two main halls intersect. Six altogether.”

“Tape or disc?” Choi asked.

“Disc,” the manager said.

“May I have them?”

“Shouldn’t I save them for the police?”

“We’re working with Chief Walker’s blessing, ma’am, and every second counts.”

The woman fetched the discs and soon was handing them to Choi.

“Was there a night manager last night?”

“Yes — Ann Ford.”

“She wouldn’t be here now, would she?”

The manager shook her head. “Went home when I came on.”

“Did she mention seeing anything or anyone unusual?”

Another head shake.

“A male, who wasn’t a guest, who may have asked after Ms. Garcia?”

“No, but that girl Ann spends most of her time with her nose buried in some romance book or other. You know, those Harlequin things, where a strong man drags off a willing woman?”

Choi didn’t bother with a reply — he just took the discs as three cops strode into the lobby like a small army, Chief Walker out in front.

When he saw Choi, the chief asked, “Where’s your boss?

“Harrow’s at Carmen Garcia’s room — one forty. I’ve got the security video.” Choi had a question he’d saved up for the chief: “What other businesses around here would have security cameras?”

Walker needed only a second or two to think. “Convenience store across the street. Bank two blocks down, on the left — ATM camera and the parking lots.”

“All right,” Choi said. “I’m going to want to gather any other video, and then’ll want space at your facility to go over them. Somebody to assist, and clear the way for me, would be great.”

Turning to an officer, Walker said, “Jake, go with Mr. Choi here. Make sure the convenience store and the bank cooperate. If they want warrants, have them call me.”

The blond patrolman stood six-two and looked like he had just stepped out of a recruiting poster for the Aryan Nation. “Yes, sir. I saw Mr. Choi on TV, sir.”

“Good for you,” the chief said patiently.

Choi shut his eyes momentarily, and managed to suppress any remark.

Forty-some minutes later, Choi was set up in a dark room in the Pratt Police Department with a DVD player hooked up to an old tube TV. While most of his team was down the hall, working their own specialties, he was subjected to your classic Dirty Job But Somebody’s Gotta Do It: going through security video, grainy washed-out footage, looking for even a single frame that showed something it shouldn’t, something off , a person in the wrong place, a car that looked out of place, any damn thing.

Mounted where it met the cross corridor, the camera on the hall from the lobby should reveal anyone coming in that way. Ten rooms were on each side to the left, and ten more to the right. Other cameras gave views of that same corridor in either direction.

Choi started with the hallway with Carmen’s doorway. He would fast-forward until he saw someone, then would slow down, back up, and look from just before the person entered until they went into their room. Shortly after midnight on the video, his teammates made their appearances — Jenny went into her room, Anderson into his, and even Choi himself. The last one to enter a room, at the far end, was Carmen... then nothing.

He fast-forwarded as slowly as possible — unlike the old VHS, DVDs skipped frames rather than skimming over them. Finally, nearly half an hour after Carmen had closed her door, someone came down the hall.

Choi sat up.

With the person’s back to the camera, all Choi could make out was a sweatshirt and jeans and a ball cap.

Choi’s cell seemed to leap into his hand; but he didn’t hit any of the numbers just yet. Instead, he watched as the ball cap — wearing man — at least that much seemed clear, that this was indeed a male — fairly swaggered down the hall, in a gait with purpose and no hesitation.