Tonton (A Hunter Kincaid Novel) - Page 71

“Yes, Grandfather?”

“There are evil things all around John, and many people are caught up in it, including you. Death is there, too. Wear your medicine.”

Randall looked at the izze-cloth coiled on top of the chest of drawers, “I will, Grandfather. Thanks for warning me.” He hung up and dressed, pulling out a switchblade from a drawer to put in his pocket as extra insurance.

He thought about calling Hunter, but talked himself out of it, just in case Grandfather was drinking again and only having bad dreams. He was at John’s house in minutes, and noted the car in the driveway. It gave him a small thread of hope, but that evaporated when John didn’t answer the door. Randall used his own key to the house and entered to silence one experiences when the place is absent of living beings.

He flipped on lights and called John’s name as he went through the home. There was no answer. He entered the master bedroom and saw the bed made, looking like no one had slept in it. John’s gun was gone, and so was his phone. Randall chewed on the inside of his cheek, looked out in the back yard on the slim chance he was there, and saw nothing. He pulled his phone and noticed the text for the first time. He called Hunter and told her. She said, “I’m coming.”

Randall made coffee and then sat at the kitchen table. When he thought she was almost there, he took the carafe to the table and poured coffee into two cups, with cream in both. Hunter arrived a minute later, and Randall pointed at a chair on the other side of the table. “Poured you some coffee,” Randall said, “I think it’s gonna be a long day.”

She took a sip, added a few more drops of cream, sipped again and said, “Your Grandfather told you about this?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Have you checked the surveillance cameras?”

“I was waiting for you. Figured four eyes were better than two.” He rose from the table and retrieved John’s laptop from the small office, putting it on the table so they could both see, and then hit the keys to access the cameras. He used the mouse to roll back the time until they found what they wanted. The two friends watched it three times, from the time John pulled into his drive and entered the home, until he left and got into the passenger seat of the van out front.

Hunter said, “Nothing but the make. I never saw the plates.”

Randall said, “Could you make out the driver? He looked big, and maybe a black man, but that’s about it.”

“With the interior light not working, that’s all I could make out, too. We need to find a city camera that lets us see the license plate and the driver.”

“You want to ride with me, or call Andre and roll with him?”

“I’ll go with you. I’ll call and tell him what’s going on and he can meet us.”

Randall said, “I’ll close up the house and meet you at the car.”

By the time they reached the police station, Andre was waiting in the parking lot. Hunter told him about Ariel, too. They informed the Sergeant about their suspicions and he helped set up conference calls so all the traffic cameras could be checked quickly.

The results were not good. Not a single camera caught an image of a similar van.

“How can that be?” Hunter said.

“The cameras. We call them red light cameras, and they’re set at strategic locations, but not all over town. Somebody who knew what they were doing could bypass every one of them by staying off the major roads and avoiding busy intersections,” Randall said.

They were quiet for a minute, then Andre said, “Could John’s disappearance be tied in to Ariel’s?”

Hunter said, “I’m not ruling out anything

at this point. And we’re not giving up on Ariel, either.”

They stayed at the station, making calls, researching van owners, first only in Pembroke Pines, then all of South Florida. There were hundreds. By five PM, they were mentally exhausted, but not ready to quit. Randall said, “Come over to the house and we’ll figure out our next plan while we eat something. Andre, you’ve got family, so you don’t have to come.”

“I’ll be there,” he said.

When they left the building, Hunter immediately notice the increasing breeze, and high, white cirrus clouds on the far eastern horizon. Andre said, “The hurricane’s coming more our way.”

“How long before it hits?” Hunter asked.

“I’m guessing maybe thirty-six hours or so, give or take. We need to check the weather this evening.”

The news knotted up Hunter’s insides even more than John and Ariel’s disappearance. “We don’t have a lot of time,” she said.

Randall said, “We’re not stopping for anything.” He fist-bumped Hunter and Andre. He added, “I’ll get some things on the way home. See you two in a bit.”

Tags: Billy Kring Thriller
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