After discovering her folks weren’t there, Ally made a sandwich and hurried upstairs to shower and wash her hair. They’d probably left to go visit family before her dad had to fly back to DC on Sunday. She left them a text telling them where she’d been and that she was home, but she would be going out to dinner later with Luckey.
At last she was ready and could start calling the numbers listed. But before she started, she needed to think of a plausible excuse for phoning a stranger, whether it be a business or residence. After coming up with several ideas, she decided on a plan she felt would work and tried it out with the first number.
“Hello. I’m a marketing representative hired by Gema Pharmaceutical, calling to see if you received your DMSO product and if you’re pleased with it.” She told them the date she knew it had been delivered, and then asked several questions about who was using it. Did they intend to buy more? How did they rate the product in terms of pain relief? How did they hear about it? Would they buy it again? Were other members of the family using it?
A half-dozen calls revealed the majority of recipients were middle-aged and had seen the company advertised on the internet. She found it amazing how much information they were willing to share about themselves. Though she would go over every set of responses with Luckey after he came for her, she didn’t hear anything she thought was important.
Three calls later an elderly woman answered. Ally started out the same way as before, but the woman laughed. “Oh, no, dear, it’s not for me. You’re asking the wrong person. I have a grandson who has it sent here. It’s for him.”
Ally’s pulse picked up speed. “Is he in a lot of pain?”
“Oh my, yes. He puts on exhibitions around the country, but spends part of every month with me. When he comes home, he uses the cream to soothe his joints.”
“That’s interesting. What does he do?”
“Oh, I don’t remember exactly, and I have macular degeneration so I can’t read anymore. When he was little he said he wanted to grow up to be like that Chan fellow in the movies.” She laughed again.
Jackie Chan? The Chinese karate expert?
Ally had trouble keeping the tremor out of her voice. “I see. Well, thank you very much for your time. You’ve been so helpful with this survey. The company appreciates every endorsement. Goodbye.”
Ally hung up in shock. This was it! She knew it in her bones.
Luckey hadn’t phoned yet, and it was still light out. She double-checked the address for Vera Jarvis and decided to take a drive past her house. The woman lived in the downtown area of Austin. Ally couldn’t wait to tell Luckey, but she didn’t dare disturb him. Instead she sent him a text.
I’m positive I’ve found Robert Martin through his supposed grandmother, Vera Jarvis! I’ve left to drive by the address and check it out. Call me the second you can!
A few minutes later she headed downtown and before long found the house where Vera Jarvis lived. It looked as though it had been built in the 1960s, but for an older home it was nicely kept up. Ally took several pictures with her phone and then parked across the street, in front of another house farther down, to wait until Luckey contacted her. Fifteen minutes went by, and the next thing she knew it had been an hour. Still no word from him. As she’d learned the night Ranger Landrey had been shot, it could be tomorrow before she heard from Luckey.
For the first time in her life she had an idea of what a police crew went through when they put a house under surveillance. The waiting for something, anything, to happen grew old in a hurry. Her chances of spotting Martin when he happened to be in Austin were probably one in a million, but it didn’t matter. She was here now and planned to sit this out for as long as she could.
Cars went by. A few people came home from work and entered driveways. She wished she’d brought a snack with her. Around six her mom texted her to say they’d gone to
her uncle Nick’s and would be home by nine. Another text came in from Ally’s assistant at the university. He’d emailed her some department information. Ally texted him back to thank him.
As she lifted her head, she saw a new black Ford Explorer turn into the older woman’s driveway and enter the garage. No. Way. Ally couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen the driver or glimpsed the license plate in time. Was it Martin? Or a caregiver, maybe? Did anyone else live with Vera Jarvis? The woman might require help.
While Ally waited to see if anything would happen, she texted Luckey again with details about the Explorer. By eight o’clock she realized it was pointless to stay put any longer and started her car. But no sooner did she signal to pull out into traffic than she saw the Explorer back out of the driveway and whip right past her.
At this point her heart started beating like a jackhammer. She followed the SUV from a distance. Before long the driver headed out on US Highway 183 toward the airport. Then, to her surprise, he unexpectedly turned into a gated, grubby looking warehouse in the 7900 block. A high chain-link fence surrounded the entire property. There were half a dozen cars parked haphazardly beneath old oak trees.
Ally slowed down to watch the car pull up to one end of the medium-sized building. It was dark now, with only minimal lighting, but she could tell it was a tallish man who got out and went inside. Her adrenaline picked up as she pulled into a closed service station across the street. She turned off her lights and waited to see if anything else was going to happen. While she sat there she sent another text to Luckey, letting him know this address.
Forty-five minutes passed before she saw a different SUV, not the Ford, come around from the back of the warehouse. When the gates opened, the driver turned down the highway toward the city. Why hadn’t Luckey texted her back yet?
She started her car and took off after it. Her heart was in her throat by the time it turned into an alley off Lamar Boulevard. Ally didn’t dare follow. She made a U-turn to backtrack and saw the sign for a Chinese massage parlor on her right.
Ally knew in her gut another poor victim had just been delivered from that warehouse. She texted the location of the massage parlor to Luckey. This was how Martin did it. He brought in girls from the airport and took them to the warehouse. From there they were driven to whatever vile place he picked. Yu Tan had been held at that warehouse. Before she could be taken to a place like this, she’d tried to escape and had been shot.
Those poor girls...
Wild with fury for what he’d done to them, Ally took off for the warehouse once more, to keep an eye on Martin. But when she reached the service station and pulled in, she saw that the black Ford Explorer had gone. Were there any girls being held in there tonight? Filled with anguish, she was too slow to realize two Caucasian men had approached her from the shadows. They were armed with assault rifles. “Get out of the car!” they ordered.
Her hands froze on the wheel. Time to use her wits. “I’m lost, looking for someone. Please let me go.”
Suddenly one of the men shattered the side window with the butt of his rifle and opened her door. Glass grazed her cheek. The other man dragged her out of the car and tied a foul-smelling cloth around her mouth. He pulled her across the highway to the gate, which he unlocked with a remote device. The man who’d broken the window held her purse and phone. She’d stumbled into a nightmare.
They took her into a small office and tied her to the chair behind the desk. The man holding her purse ripped through her bag and tore her wallet apart. “Well, look who we have here. Allison Forrester Duncan, age 28, five foot seven, eyes blue, address Crystal Mountain Road.” He whistled. “Ritzy. What’s a gorgeous babe like you doing slumming around here this time of night in that fancy car?”