Trail of Secrets Page 15

  Think, Callie, she told herself. How can you get out of here? The door. If she could get to it and turn the bolt, she might be able to run down the hallway and out the back exit. Then down the alley and a block over to where Seth waited in a car.

  She eased across the floor, reached for the lock’s button knob and turned it. To her relief, it made no sound as the bolt slid back into place. From across the room Abby cried out again, and Anthony slapped her. “Quit your crying.”

  In one swift movement, Callie pulled the door open, ran into the hall and sprinted toward the exit door at the end of the hallway. She burst through the door into the darkness of the back parking lot where the staff kept their cars and turned to run in the direction where Seth waited.

  “Callie, stop!” a loud voice demanded.

  She skidded to a stop and whirled to see Marty Weaver standing at the edge of the parking lot with his gun drawn. New fear washed over Callie, and she turned to run. “No!” she screamed and bolted forward.

  Too late she realized she had gone the wrong way when she ran from the building. It dawned on her suddenly when she plowed into the four-foot wire fence that ran from the back of the building along the property edge. The driveway into the parking lot lay on the other side of the shelter.

  The impact of her collision knocked the breath from her and slammed her to the ground. Then she heard footsteps running toward her. She tried to get up, but her knees screamed with pain.

  Marty Weaver dropped down beside her. “Are you all right?”

  “No,” she shouted. “Get away from me.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “What’s going on, Callie? Is someone after you?”

  She frowned and shook her head to clear it of her muddled thoughts. “Aren’t you with him?”

  “With who?” Marty asked.

  Callie pushed up into a sitting position. “With Anthony.”

  At that moment the back door of the shelter burst open, and Anthony ran into the parking lot. His eyes locked on her and Marty, and he started across the pavement, his gun leveled at them.

  “Get away from her, Marty,” he said.

  Marty rose to his feet and looked from him to Callie, a puzzled expression on his face. “I don’t understand. I was only helping her.”

  Anthony cocked his gun. “I said get away.”

  Marty took a step toward him, and Callie jumped to her feet. “No, Marty. Don’t trust him. He wants to kill me.”

  Marty’s mouth dropped open, and he glanced at her before he looked back at Anthony. Marty raised his gun. “Captain, maybe you should take a step...”

  Before he could finish his sentence, two gunshots rang out, and Marty staggered forward before he fell to the ground. Callie screamed and dropped to her knees beside him. Anthony ran to her, grabbed her by the arm and jerked her to her feet. “You shot a police officer, Anthony. How could you do that?”

  He tightened his grip and dragged her across the parking lot toward his police car where Abby stood waiting. “Open the door,” he growled at her.

  Even in the dimly lit parking lot, Callie could see the fear etched in Abby’s face as she jerked the door open. Anthony pushed Callie inside and slammed the door. She slid across the seat and reached for the handle on the other door, but she couldn’t find it. Then she realized her predicament. She was in the backseat of a police car used for transporting prisoners. Those cars weren’t equipped with door handles on the backseat.

  The front doors of the car opened, and Anthony slid behind the steering wheel. Abby climbed into the passenger side. Without speaking, he started the car, pulled around the building toward the street and waited for several cars to pass.

  Callie glanced out the window and hoped he would turn left. If he did, they would pass the street where Seth sat waiting for her in his car. By some stroke of luck he might be able to see her in the backseat. That is, if he even noticed the car.

  Anthony drove the car into the street and turned right.

  As they sped down the street away from the shelter, they left behind a wounded Marty Weaver and Seth, the only person who knew she was undercover in the shelter. How long would it be before he checked on her? And what would anybody there tell him?

  She stared out the window into the dark night, and her body began to shake with fear. She had no idea where Anthony was taking her, but one thing she did know. He planned to kill her, and at this point she didn’t know anything that could stop him from doing just that.

  * * *

  Seth squirmed in the car seat and tried once more to find a comfortable position, but it was no use. His back ached, and the muscles in his legs cramped. Surely Callie would be back soon.

  He glanced at the clock and frowned. Eight-fifteen p.m. He didn’t realize it had gotten so late. She had only done a three-hour shift last night, and he’d assumed tonight would be the same. What could be keeping her? Maybe he should call her.

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and was about to punch in her number when his phone rang. He pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello.”

  “Seth? This is Anne Riley from the TBI office.”

  “Mrs. Riley, when I left you a message earlier, I thought you had probably gone home for the night. I didn’t expect you to call me until tomorrow.”

  “No, I hadn’t gone home. In fact, I’d been away from the office for a doctor’s appointment. I came in a little while ago to check my messages, and I got yours. I thought I should call you right away.”

  Seth straightened in the seat. “Why?”

  “It just seemed so strange to me that I would have two calls within a week’s time about that DNA sample.”

  “Somebody else called you? Who was it?”

  “Judge Lattimer,” she said. “He called almost a week ago.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “I checked the records carefully and found nothing. When I told him that there was no record of the DNA being entered for that victim, he became very upset.”

  Seth frowned. “What happened? Had he thought he entered it, but then he forgot to do it?”

  “No. He said he gave it to someone else to enter for him, and that person said he’d taken care of it.”

  “Did he say who this person was?”

  “No, but he seemed very upset. He said this person was a police officer, and he was going to look into what had happened. Now that I’ve thought about it, it seems strange that Judge Lattimer was injured later on the day he called me.”

  Seth felt his pulse quicken. “I think you’re right.”

  “So when I got your message about the same DNA, I called right away. I hope this information has been helpful.”

  “It has, Mrs. Riley. Thank you for calling.”

  “You’re welcome, Detective. Call me if I can do anything else for you.”

  “I will.”

  Seth ended the call and sat there a few moments, thinking about what Mrs. Riley had told him. Who could have betrayed Dan with the DNA evidence? The first name that came to mind was Marty Weaver. For some time Marty’s name had seemed to pop into his mind every time he tried to link anybody to this case. Tomorrow he’d have to do some more checking into Marty’s background and his recent activities.

  His gaze drifted to the clock on the dashboard, and he frowned. What was keeping Callie? Maybe he needed to go check on her. He had just turned the ignition when sharp reports pierced the quiet night air. Gunshots. And they came from the vicinity of the shelter.

  He turned on his blue dashboard light and made a swift U-turn to head around the corner to the mission. The car skidded to a stop at the front door, and he was out the door and running for the entrance before the car came to a complete stop.

  He burst into the dining room and was met with a roomful of homeless men and women hud
dled in their chairs. An old woman stood near the front wall, screaming the same words over and over. “They shootin’ people ev’rywhere. They gonna kill us all!”

  Peggy had run from the kitchen and was trying to pull the woman toward a chair, but the woman was stronger than she appeared. She struggled from Peggy’s grasp and continued her rant.

  Seth ran up to her. “Where’s Callie?”

  Peggy wiped her hand across the perspiration on her forehead. “I don’t know,” she said. “She went to the ladies’ room about fifteen minutes ago, but she hasn’t come back yet. And I told her to hurry. I’m short-staffed. We heard shots a few minutes ago, and Sadie thinks somebody’s going to come in here and attack us. She’s getting everybody upset.”

  He glanced around the room. “Where is Mrs. Tipton?”

  “I don’t know. I went back to her office a few minutes ago to get her to help me give out the beds, and she was pulling money out of her desk and stuffing it in a bag. Then she ran past me and out the back door. I heard her car roar out of the parking lot. She usually deals with Sadie, not me. How am I ever going to settle her down?”

  Seth headed toward the hallway, but a man with matted gray hair rose from his chair. “I seen Miss Callie.”

  Seth stopped and faced him. “You did? When?”

  He pointed down the hall. “She went down there.”

  “Did she come back?”

  The man shook his head. “Not after that policeman took her in Miss Dorothy’s office.”

  Seth’s stomach roiled. “Did you know this policeman?”

  He nodded. “He comes here a lot, but I don’t know his name.”

  Seth remembered Callie telling him about Marty’s appearance at the shelter the night before. He turned and called out to Peggy, “Did you see Marty Weaver come in here tonight? He’s a Memphis police officer.”

  She shook her head. “No,” she grunted as she finally got Sadie settled in a chair. “I haven’t seen a policeman come in tonight.”

  Seth glanced back at the homeless man. “Are you sure you saw a policeman?”

  He raised his hand and pointed down the hallway. “He came in the back door. I saw him take Miss Callie in the office.”

  Seth pulled his gun from his holster, raced down the hallway and skidded to a stop at the open door to Dorothy Tipton’s office. A quick glance around the empty room that showed clear signs of a fight confirmed his fear that something bad had happened to Callie.

  He rushed to the exit at the end of the hallway and stopped. Not knowing what awaited him outside, he pushed the door open slowly before he stepped into the empty parking lot. His gaze swept the area, and his hand holding the gun dipped. A soft moan drifted on the night air, and he jerked his gun back into firing position.

  “Help me,” the voice said. Seth squinted into the darkness and made out the crumpled form of someone on the ground.

  He inched forward, both hands grasping the gun he held in front of him, and gasped when he recognized Marty Weaver on the ground. Even in the dim light of the parking lot, he could see blood pooling around Marty’s body. Seth rushed to him and knelt down.

  “Marty! Can you hear me?”

  Marty didn’t respond. Seth pulled his cell phone out and punched in 911. When the operator answered, he identified himself and his location. “We have an officer down. He’s been shot. I need backup and an ambulance right away.”

  “They’re on the way,” came the quick response.

  Seth shoved the phone back in his pocket and leaned down over Marty. “Marty, it’s Seth Dawtry. Can you open your eyes?”

  Marty’s lips moved, and a low groan rumbled in his throat. “H-he t-took h-her,” he whispered.

  Fear gripped Seth’s heart, and he leaned closer to Marty. “Who?”

  Marty’s eyes fluttered open, and he stared up into Seth’s face. “Captain W-Wilson. Sh-shot me. He and Abby D-Dalton put C-Callie in his police car.”

  “Abby Dalton?” Things were getting crazier by the moment. Seth frowned and shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t understand. Why would Anthony and Abby do something like that?”

  Marty grimaced, grabbed the front of Seth’s shirt in his hand and clutched the material between his fingers. “Gonna k-kill her. You’ve got t-to save her.”

  The back door of the shelter burst open, and Peggy ran into the parking lot. “What’s going on out here?” she demanded as she ran to where Marty lay. When she stopped beside Seth, she stared openmouthed down at Marty and then looked back up at Seth. “How badly is he hurt?”

  Sirens sounded in the distance, and Seth rose to his feet. “An ambulance and the police are on their way here. Lieutenant Weaver says Captain Wilson shot him. Have you seen the captain tonight?”

  Peggy shook her head, “No, but I hardly ever see him when he comes here.”

  “So he comes here a lot?”

  Peggy nodded. “Yes. He’s Dorothy’s cousin. He usually parks out here and comes in the back door to her office.”

  “Did you see Abby Dalton?”

  “Yes. She came in right before Callie left the kitchen to go to the ladies’ room.” She looked around the empty parking lot. “Where is Callie?”

  The back door opened, and the homeless man who had told Seth he’d seen Callie stuck his head outside. “Miss Peggy, Sadie’s gettin’ real upset. We need you back inside.”

  “Go take care of the people inside, Peggy, but don’t leave the shelter or allow anyone in there to go, either. We may need to ask all of you some questions.”

  Peggy bit down on her lip, but nodded in understanding before she ran to the door. When she’d disappeared inside, Seth knelt beside Marty again. “Our guys should be here any minute, Marty. Just take it easy until they do.”

  Marty licked his lips and struggled to speak. “I t-tried to help h-her.”

  “I know. Now lie still.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Carlos Allen...”

  Seth’s heart thudded, and he leaned closer. “What about Carlos?”

  “N-never understood who sh-shot first. Shot c-came from b-behind me, l-like from the vacant h-house across the street.”

  Seth could hardly breathe, his heart was beating so fast. “You didn’t think it was your men? You thought it was somebody who wasn’t supposed to be there?”

  Marty’s chin dipped toward his chest in what Seth thought was a weak nod. “Didn’t know why Captain Wilson showed up. Nobody but my guys and you knew about the stakeout.”

  The reason for Marty’s defense of his men’s actions that night suddenly dawned on Seth. Marty had suspected someone else who didn’t want Carlos taken alive had fired that first shot.

  “So you suspected Anthony shot Carlos?”

  “Yes.”

  Seth remembered Callie telling him about how Herman had left the shelter when he saw Marty at the front door. “Why was Herman Miller afraid of you?”

  “Wasn’t afraid of m-me. W-was one of my informants. When h-he left the shelter last night, he w-was scared. Told me he s-saw Anthony and another man beat up the owner of a d-dry cleaners. He was g-gonna take me to t-talk to the man, but H-Herman was...”

  “Was killed, I know,” Seth filled in.

  “F-followed Anthony tonight to s-see if I could find out anything.” He coughed and grabbed his side. “But I c-couldn’t save Callie.”

  The screech of brakes and the wail of sirens outside the shelter alerted Seth that backup had arrived. “Our guys are here, Marty. They’ll take care of you, and I’ll find Callie.”

  Marty grabbed his arm before he could move away. “Hurry, Seth. Anthony is g-going to kill her, too.”

  Before Seth could respond, the back door of the shelter opened, and two EMTs followed by two police officers ran into the parking lot. Seth b
acked away so they could begin their work on Marty. He motioned to the police officers. “Come with me.”

  They followed as he turned and ran back into the shelter. They had to find Callie. But how? Dorothy Tipton! Right now she was the only person he could think of who might have the information he needed. Maybe she knew where Anthony would have taken her.

  They slid to a stop in the dining room where Peggy had finally calmed the screaming Sadie. An additional four uniformed police officers ran in the front door as he entered and joined them.

  “What’s going on, Detective?” one of the men who’d followed him back inside asked.

  “Lieutenant Marty Weaver has been shot by Captain Anthony Wilson. The captain has also abducted Judge Lattimer’s niece. We’ve got to find him before he kills her.” He faced Peggy. “Do you know where Dorothy Tipton went?”

  She shook her head. “All I know is I heard her car leave, and she was in a hurry. She might have been going home.”

  “Where does she live?”

  “She lives in a small cottage behind Anthony’s house.”

  Seth turned to the two men who’d been outside with him. “You two stay here. See that Lieutenant Weaver is taken care of and get the crime scene people down here. Get a BOLO out for Captain Wilson’s car and tell them to approach him with caution. He’s armed and dangerous. He’ll have two women with him. One is his abductee, Callie Lattimer. The other is his accomplice, Assistant District Attorney Abby Dalton. The rest of you men follow me to his house. We need to try to find his cousin and see if she has any idea where he might have taken Callie.”

  “We’re with you,” one of the officers said.

  Seth gave a curt nod and ran toward the door. Within minutes he was roaring down the street, his blue lights flashing and his siren wailing. Two police cars trailed him with their lights flashing as they weaved through traffic.

  Seth gripped the steering wheel and gritted his teeth. If anything happened to Callie he would never forgive himself. “God,” he whispered, “please don’t let her die. I still love her so much. Give me one more chance with her.”

  He blinked the tears from his eyes and tried to concentrate on his driving. All he could think of, though, was Callie and how she was at the mercy of someone intent on ending her life. He had to find her before Anthony killed her.