Leverage Read online

  “Do you think the Pirelli family is involved?”

  “I don’t think they have a personal issue with anyone, they’re just hired killers. But did they commit the act? I’d say there’s a good chance of it. There’s a reason they’ve been canvassing the area around the condo, and then the getups they wore this morning? You know that was a ruse so they wouldn’t attract attention while they kidnapped J.T. and Julie. Why any of our people were targeted is yet to be known, but I’m sure Curt’s death and the fact that he and J.T. used to be partners isn’t a coincidence.”

  “And Julie is the leverage for whatever they want from J.T. and didn’t get from Curt?”

  “I’d say so, one hundred percent.”

  Spelling hit the freeway with Cam on his rear bumper. The drive to the downtown headquarters would take us only ten minutes at the speed we were going. Every car to our front and sides parted ways and pulled to the shoulder, giving us a clear path to Milwaukee.

  We arrived at the blocked off street and parked at the intersection. Police tape, as well as wooden sawhorse type barricades, shut down two city blocks. We climbed out of our cruisers and headed toward the flashing lights a block ahead. From the location of the medical examiner and the forensic team’s vans, we knew where Curt’s body lay.

  We approached the group, and Spelling shook SSA Hopkins’s outstretched hand. They patted each other on the back and began discussing the situation. Hopkins waved Agent Bill Lewis over and invited him to take part in the conversation. Bill had been working closely with Curt on several recent cases.

  Hopkins picked up where he had left off. “Bill and Curt were working together on something else, but I’ll assign another agent to that case for the time being. We need everyone on board who knew Curt and J.T.”

  Spelling turned toward me. “Jade, I want you and Cam to go inside and talk to the people who called in the incident. They were interviewed briefly when the police showed up at the scene, but I want every detail. Leave no stone unturned.”

  “Got it, boss.” Cam and I took the elevator to the third floor and signed in at the registration counter. We showed our badges to Maureen, the night agent in charge of signing people in and out. She pointed to her left, toward the visitors’ lounge.

  “Just a heads-up, guys,” she said with a concerned look.

  Cam nodded.

  “It’s a family in there. A husband, wife, and two kids under ten. They’re pretty distraught, and the kids are overly tired. They’ve been here for nearly an hour and have been talked to once already.”

  I groaned and hoped the children hadn’t actually witnessed the event. I was sure Cam felt their anxiety since he had a young child too.

  “We’ll be easy on them, but we’re talking about one of our own. We need to know everything they can remember,” Cam said.

  “Has anyone checked the street cameras for that van?” I asked.

  “I believe the tech department is working on that,” Maureen said.

  I smacked the counter and jerked my head toward the visitors’ lounge. “Come on. Let’s talk to these folks so they can get their kids home and put to bed.”

  Cam and I entered the comfortably decorated lounge where two love seats faced each other with a coffee table between them. Several round tables filled the rest of the space, with four chairs at each one. A TV played quietly in the background.

  The parents looked up from their cell phones when we entered the room. Both kids slept soundly on the love seats. I was thankful for that and took in a slow, calming breath. I hadn’t realized how late it was until I glanced at the clock above the coffee station—10:38. Cam and I approached the mom and dad and introduced ourselves. They responded with a tired handshake and their names—Richard and Amy Lawrence.

  We pulled out the two empty chairs next to them at the table and sat down. Cam explained that Curt was a former colleague and we needed every bit of information they could remember in order to apprehend those violent killers.

  I reached in my pocket and pulled out my notepad. I would write down the information. Since Cam knew Curt personally, it was better that he lead the questioning.

  “Okay, folks, we’re going to try to get you on your way as soon as possible. We know the police department questioned you already, but since the individual in the body bag was an FBI agent, we need to ask questions of our own. Why don’t you just begin with the way the event played out in front of you, and we’ll ask questions as we go along.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Richard said. He began by telling how they had just left a friend’s high-rise condo after a birthday party. They were taking Kilbourn Street to the freeway entrance so they could head south on Interstate 94 toward their home in Caledonia. He said he didn’t know where the van came from or how long it had been in front of them. It wasn’t anything they were paying attention to until Amy yelled out that the back doors were opening.

  “I thought the doors accidentally swung open until I saw somebody in the back shove the body bag out. It rolled for about fifteen feet, and the van sped off. I had to slam on my brakes—”

  Amy patted her husband’s hand and took over the conversation. “It was terrible,” she said. “I mean, we weren’t even sure what we saw was real. We nearly hit the bag, and of course by the shape—well, you know—there had to be a body inside.” She paused and took a sip of water from her Styrofoam cup. “That’s when Richard squealed to a stop and called the police. I swear he didn’t touch anything. Richard stood by the bag until law enforcement arrived and I stayed in the car with the kids. We had no idea we were in front of the FBI building until the agents poured out onto the street, probably because they heard the sirens. I guess when they looked inside the bag, they realized the poor man was one of their own.”

  I nodded and wrote as fast as I could.

  “Can you tell us anything about the van or the man you said pushed the bag out?”

  Richard spoke up. “The van was a dark color, either dark blue or black. I couldn’t tell you anything else about it because we only saw it from behind.”

  “Were there windows in the back, or were they solid doors?” Cam asked.

  “Solid, that much I’m positive of.”

  “Anything else like bumper stickers, dents, taillights out?”

  “Not that I noticed.” Richard wiped the perspiration off his forehead with the back of his hand.

  “You’re doing fine,” Cam said. “Now, what about the person who pushed the bag out?”

  “I can’t tell you anything about him. It was more like we saw a shape and movement than an actual person. Obviously, somebody pushed him out, but it happened so fast. It wasn’t like there was eye contact between us, and the side streets aren’t well lit around here. It was just a shape moving inside, then a push, nothing else. It was over and done with in a matter of seconds, then the van was gone.”

  Cam exhaled a deep breath. “Were there any numbers on the license plate you remember seeing?”

  “I never even noticed the plate. Like I said, it happened so fast. My main concern was to avoid hitting the bag.”

  “Okay, I think we have everything we need.” Cam reached inside his sport coat and pulled out two cards. He handed one to each parent. “Please don’t hesitate to call if you think of anything else. Even a small detail could help. If you want to gather your kids, we’ll escort you out.”

  Once outside, we watched as the barricades were moved long enough for Richard Lawrence to drive out. Cam and I crossed over to the sidewalk where Spelling, SSA Hopkins, Val, Maria, and a group of other agents stood.

  “Anything on the Pirelli family from the Chicago PD yet?” I asked.

  “According to the police department that hauled a few of them in for questioning, they were told nobody has seen Anthony or Antonio for months.”

  Cam smirked. “That’s convenient.”

  SSA Hopkins spoke up. “That group is tight-lipped. We may have to reopen old charges filed against the family before we can get any of t
hem to sing. Meanwhile, let’s get a warrant to tap their phone lines. They may be tight-lipped with us, but I bet they say plenty to each other.”

  I cleared my throat and waited my turn. “If you don’t mind me asking, sir, why didn’t Curt’s absence from work raise a red flag today?”

  “Actually, he took several personal days off, so we weren’t even aware that he was missing.”

  Val asked whether Curt mentioned why he needed a few days off.

  “He said he had to take care of some legal matters for his mom’s estate.”

  I gave Spelling a dubious glance. Chances were, the Pirellis had kidnapped Curt yesterday and killed him after he wouldn’t tell them what it was they were hired to find out. Just the thought of that made me shudder. I wondered whether that was J.T.’s fate as well if he didn’t talk. And what would they, or had they, done to Julie?

  Dave Mann, the county ME, approached us. “Bob and I are going to head out, guys. We’ll have a detailed report for you in twenty-four hours. Sorry for your loss.”

  Spelling and SSA Hopkins shook their hands, and we watched as Curt’s body was loaded into the back of the ME’s van. Hopkins called out to Butch Martin and Hal Friedman, who were packing up their forensic equipment.

  “Anything stand out, guys?”

  “Not yet. Chances are the assailants were gloved. Dave transferred Curt into one of his own bags. We’re taking the original back to the crime lab to go over it thoroughly. It’s all we have to work with.”

  Hopkins jammed his hands into his pockets and nodded. Frustration was written all over his face.

  Spelling spoke up. “Got the results from those prints in the condo’s garage yet?”

  “They weren’t a match to anyone in the Pirelli family who has prints on file, but we’re still searching.”

  Spelling let out a few choice curse words and walked away.

  Hopkins nodded. “Keep us in the loop, guys.”

  “You got it, sir.” Butch and Hal climbed into the forensics van and drove away.

  Chapter 17

  After finally snagging the handcuffs with the belt, J.T. secured them to the chain links of the enclosure on one end and through the belt buckle on the other. He pulled and jerked the fence inward. He was making slow progress and needed only a few links to weaken enough for him to snap away from the framework. If he could manage that, he’d bend and twist enough of the fence to fold over and out of his way. With any luck, he could slip through the opening and out into the warehouse. He wrapped the end of the belt around his arm for leverage and pressed his feet against the bottom of the fence to brace himself.

  After several hours of effort, the fence had bent inward considerably. It wouldn’t take much longer.

  I need to get out of this damn cage, find Julie, and make our escape before morning since I know what these monsters are capable of.

  J.T. watched as the links began to pull away from the cross bar at the top of the fence.

  Just a little more and it should come loose.

  With every ounce of strength he could muster, J.T. wrenched on the belt, wrapped it around his forearm, and pulled again. One by one, the links bent away from the top bar as he continued to pull. They finally broke free.

  He dropped the belt, wrapped his fingers through the links, and pulled that section toward him. The opening he created was four feet from the ground but wide enough to get out. He climbed the fence, reached around the opening, and pulled himself through.

  The skin on his arms was torn and bleeding from the sharp edges, but even that didn’t deter J.T.—he needed to find Julie, and the sooner the better. First, he had to be certain the oversized thugs and the mystery man calling the shots weren’t anywhere in the building.

  J.T. slunk through the shadows, trying to stay as quiet and inconspicuous as possible while passing under the interior overhead garage door. He looked left and right for movement before continuing on. Julie’s car stood directly in front of him. He approached cautiously and peered through the window with hopes of seeing her keys in the ignition. He knew that was only wishful thinking as he grasped the driver’s door and slowly opened it. He dropped down into the seat and patted the floor beneath him. Then he checked the console, under the floor mats, in the glove box, and behind the visor. The keys weren’t there. He held his breath as he popped the trunk. It opened silently. J.T. sucked in a deep breath of relief and searched the trunk with no results. He needed to move on and find his sister—and a way out of the building. He remembered Curt saying he saw Julie for a split second as he was pushed through the open door of the room she was in.

  It was time to search the entire structure. J.T.’s ears were perked for sounds of anyone else in the building. He needed to be alert and careful as he pressed along the walls of the second floor and crept forward inch by inch. He’d clear the second level then search every room, closet, and alcove on the first floor. Julie had to be somewhere in that building.

  He’d gone through all five offices on the second floor, and they were all vacant. J.T. retraced his steps down the stairs to the lower level and began at the west wall. Four rooms with closed doors lined that side of the warehouse. He pressed his ear against the first door—dead silence. With a careful twist of the knob, he opened the door and peeked in. The room was small, likely a storage area back in the day. Mice scurried at the disturbance from the door opening. J.T. didn’t see anything inside except an upended shelving unit on the floor. He pulled the door closed and moved on. He crept to the second room and listened. He pressed his ear against the door. He was sure he heard something on the other side, possibly muffled sobs. He turned the knob and pushed. The door opened, and inside lay a few pieces of strewn office furniture but nothing else.

  My mind is playing tricks on me. I swear I heard Julie.

  Only two rooms were left on that side of the building. He’d clear them and continue on to the bathrooms while making his way across the warehouse. He went to the third door and turned the knob, but it didn’t budge. He put his shoulder into it and pushed. The door was locked from the outside. He touched the center of the knob and felt a slot where a key would be inserted. That door was locked for some reason.

  He whispered her name. “Julie? Sis, are you in there? It’s J.T. Answer me if you can.” He listened and heard the sobs again. “Julie, is that you?”

  “J.T., you’re alive? Help me, please. I’m bound to a bed. We need to get out of here before they get back.” Her sobs became more urgent.

  “Shh, I’ll get you out. Just stay calm.”

  J.T. turned around and panned the darkened warehouse. His mind was going in a hundred different directions. Speed was necessary, but so was silence until he was sure the building was empty. He needed to find something he could use to pry open the door, but first he had to make sure the other rooms were empty.

  “I’ll be right back, Julie, but please don’t make any noise.”

  J.T. moved on to the next door and turned the knob. He peered in and saw a small room with a table, two chairs, and a twin bed. The blankets had been tossed back, and the room appeared to have been recently used.

  I bet that’s where the thugs sleep when they’re here.

  Only one room remained. J.T. inhaled a deep breath and took three steps. He stood outside the last door and listened. All was quiet. He grasped the knob and gave it a turn.

  Chapter 18

  At least a dozen agents gathered in the large conference room in our downtown headquarters. The air in that room was heavy with solemn silence. We had to figure out the connection between Curt, J.T., and the psychos who’d murdered Curt and were still holding J.T. and Julie hostage. We had sleepless nights and busy days ahead of us, and we didn’t know what state of mind those individuals were in. Would they lose their patience, and would J.T. and his sister endure the same fate as Curt? There had to be something important going on that caused them to spring into action at that particular time.

  Spelling and SSA Hopkins each took
a corner at the head of the table nearest the back wall.

  Agent Hopkins stood and held his closed fist against his mouth. He cleared his throat and began. “Most of you at this table knew Curt personally and, in one way or another, treated him like family. He worked at this location for nine years, and four years prior to that at the North Chicago field office. I can only thank God he wasn’t married and didn’t have children.” Hopkins smiled thoughtfully and took a second to compose himself. “No encumbrances, Curt and J.T. always said. It was a standing joke between them. That’s why those two made such good partners, and now one is dead and the other is missing.”

  I wiped my eyes, which were beginning to blur. I remembered our team joking about that on the first day I met them. That was the reason Spelling assigned me to J.T. Neither of us had encumbrances. I glanced up, and Cam, Maria, and Val were staring at me.

  Hopkins sighed deeply before continuing. “He had a mother who depended greatly on him. She hasn’t been told yet, but in all probability, I’ll be taking a drive to Waukegan tomorrow to tell her face-to-face that her son is dead. We need to find the connection. Somebody wants something that Curt and J.T. knew about or worked on together. There would be no other reason to kidnap both of them. Apparently, Curt wouldn’t give them whatever they wanted, and he died because of it.”

  Spelling took over. “What we need is every case that Curt and J.T. worked on together. I realize that’s a daunting task and it’s going to take time, but we need to start at the beginning. Curt and J.T. were partners between 2011 and early 2016 when our team split off and moved the Serial Crimes Unit to Glendale. Curt stayed behind because of his mom, and J.T. gained a new unencumbered partner in Jade.” Spelling gave me a weak smile.

  My voice caught in my throat. “May I say something?”

  “Go ahead,” Spelling said.

  “I think that because five years of working together is a lot of case files to go through, we should focus on the most notorious criminals, the ones with an ax to grind and who likely ended up dead due to a gun fight or who are in prison. The families could be seeking revenge.”