Page 69 of No Surrender
“Shit. I’ve got nothing.” Vic stood in the middle of the small cabin and ran his hands through his hair.What would Simon do?
Vic didn’t have his partner’s psychic abilities, but Simon had told him more than once that he believed Vic’s very accurate “cop intuition” was another alternate way of knowing. Vic usually sloughed that off, uncomfortable with the idea because he knew deep down that Simon was right.
Alright. I’ll give it a try.Vic closed his eyes and thought about Judd.What did he think about coming here? Why this place? What was he feeling? And most important—where did he go?
Vic tried to quiet his mind and listen with his intuition. What his mind supplied was probably a combination of his imagination and an educated guess.
Desperation. Feeling boxed in. Fear of failing. Doesn’t want to disappoint. Underneath that, old fear of being punished for letting someone down. Odd, strange, doesn’t fit in. Magic is real.
Vic opened his eyes when Ross called his name in a tone that suggested he had been calling for a while. “Huh—what?”
“I was just about to snap my fingers in front of your face,” Ross replied. “Where’d you go?”
Vic ignored the question. “I think Judd is running scared. My bet is that he was an abused child and looked up to Thompson—and later, Fischer—because they held the power of life and death over their victims. Judd wanted to stopbeinga victim, and he sided with the abusers instead of the person being abused. He doesn’t want to fail Fischer. So if he goes back to where it all started—”
“The old hotel shuttle depot.” Ross met Vic’s gaze with wide eyes. “Where teenage Judd met serial killer and bus driver Thompson and fell in love with death.”
“He’d been waiting since Thompson died to find a worthy idol. Then the Slitter came along, and Judd became the ultimate fanboy, cheering him on. Maybe Judd had chances to report Fischer and didn’t—something he’d probably consider a mark of loyalty.”
“And Judd lives in a fantasy world where Fischer knows how much Judd’s ‘done’ for him. Where they have a relationship. And Judd needs to show his idol that he alone can be trusted to believe in him,” Ross continued, sounding like he wanted to throw up.
“It’s worth checking out,” Vic said and called Hargrove with an update. They went for coffee while they waited for a search warrant.
“If he’s not at the shuttle office, we’re back to square one.” Ross took a bite of his bear claw and washed it down with coffee.
“We’ll find him. He’s going to stay close with the trial coming up.” Vic finished his Danish and took a long swig of his latte.
Ross checked email on his phone while Vic searched for the owner of the defunct shuttle office. Having a key was nice, but kicking in the door or shooting the lock worked in a pinch—if they couldn’t pick the lock.
“We’re not getting in the easy way,” Vic said with a grimace. “The building is abandoned because it got tangled up in a legal mess when the last owner and his business partner split up. One of them died; the other went on the run for unpaid taxes. The bank foreclosed. Hargrove’s got a call in to get their okay.”
“On the bright side, that means no one is going to call up and bitch to Hargrove because we ruined their door,” Ross pointed out.
“Just remember the curses,” Vic said. “Use gloves. We’ll get Simon to look at whatever we find before we let the evidence guys have it.”
Sooner than Vic expected, his phone pinged with authorization from Hargrove. “We’re good to go. Bank gave permission, and we’ve got an emergency search warrant,” he told Ross as they gathered their trash and headed to the car. Vic texted Simon with an update and told him where they were going, saying he’d fill him in afterward.
The old shuttle station was a squat, featureless brick building. Squinty glass block windows high on the walls protected it from break-ins but also limited visibility. That worked in their favor, although Vic had no idea if Judd had enough magic to set arcane alerts like the protections Simon and his friends had created around their bungalow and the shop.
The building had a back door into a narrow alley and no security cameras. Since it had been abandoned for years, Vic doubted it had working electricity or other utilities, so if Judd was here, he was camping rough.
The whole block had seen better days, and foot traffic was minimal. Two nearby buildings were also empty and for sale. That meant he and Ross were unlikely to be interrupted.
“Cover me.” Vic pulled his lock pick kit from his pocket. Certain skills came in handy, and growing up in a family of cops meant that he had plenty of teachers to pass along the useful stuff no one taught at the police academy.
Vic listened for any sounds from inside while he worked, glad that the door was old and the lock hadn’t been upgraded. He and Ross flattened themselves against the outside wall to avoid being backlit like targets.
“Police! We have a warrant, and we’re coming in,” Vic shouted. He braced for gunfire and exchanged a glance with Ross, then nodded. He swept the room with his flashlight, gun drawn.
Nothing moved. Daylight filtered through the dirty glass block windows, dimly illuminating the interior. Vic stepped inside, getting his bearings before venturing farther.
The station had one main room. A small office partitioned with cubicle walls sat in the back corner, and signs on the wall indicated two bathrooms. Rows of dusty plastic seats awaited passengers that would never return.
The powerful beams from their flashlights played over the shadowed corners and beneath the chairs. Only the small office and the restrooms were hidden from view, but that was enough to shelter Judd if he had made this his last bolt hole.
There.Vic gestured for Ross to follow his line of sight, illuminating a wastebasket filled with fast-food wrappers and soda cans.Same brands as he left behind in the storage unit. I’m gonna bet that’s not from long ago.
He sniffed the air and picked up a whiff of fried chicken and rancid fries.
