Page 37 of One Cry Too Loud
“You did, and the seven thousand dollars they cost to produce,” Tag said. “We didn’t hold it against you, though. In any event, it’ll give you an extra layer of intel, and it’ll allow Charlie and I to see what you’re seeing in real time. Charlie won’t have to worry about not getting to you in time. He’ll see what you see exactly when you do, and if he thinks he needs to intervene-”
“I can come charging in like the bull I am,” Charlie replied. He looked over at me. “Put it in your eye, Jack.”
“I hate this stupid stuff,” I muttered, but I did as Charlie asked. Plucking the lens from the liquid, I popped it into my eyes. Blinking it into place, I saw an overlay appear immediately. In front of me, at the edge of my peripheral vision, the make and model of the van we sat in pulled up. When I looked at Charlie and Tag, their names pulled up as well as their agesand other information. Their occupations, however, showed as REDACTED, which made sense.
“The things I do for justice,” I muttered, blinking and feeling the itch right up against my eyeball.
“I guess that’s why everyone calls Jack Harrington a hero,” Tag said, and I couldn’t really tell whether he was being sarcastic or not. No matter. I had a job to do, and it was go time.
“No,” I answered. “If Joe is in here, if he’s Nefarious, and if he’s got that little girl, then you’ll see why everyone calls Jack Harrington a hero.”
And, with that, I got out of the van and headed toward my destination.
CHAPTER 24
Preliminary research had told me that, due to some recent construction issues, the only way to the second floor of the duplex was through the first floor. While that made it less of a duplex than a shared home, it meant that I would have to deal with the elderly couple who lived on the first floor. My mind spun with ideas of how to do that as I made my way to the front door.
I didn’t want to tip my hand too quickly, and on the off chance that Joe actually did live here and I was able to get the jump on him, I didn’t want the couple to give him a heads up out of a sense of politeness for a neighbor.
I could have told them that I was a police officer and that I needed to see Joe about something confidential. That didn’t sit right with me, though. In addition to it being a felony, there seemed to be something unethical about it. I might have been a former police officer, but I wasn’t still working in that capacity, and now that the CCU was no longer backed by and connected to the government, it wouldn’t be right to insinuate that it was.
Unfortunately, telling someone that I worked for what amounted to a band of paid vigilantes didn’t seem like the kind of thing that would put much calm into a pair of elderly people.I would have to come up with something else. I’d have to say something that would elicit a bit of silence and cooperation from the couple. Maybe I could say I was Joe’s friend. I could say I had come a long way and wanted to surprise him. I could say I was his long lost cousin and I wanted to let him know about something private that happened to our grandmother.
Or maybe I could just tell them the truth. I could tell them that I had just come from Alice Masters’s house and I might have information that could lead to the rescue of Joe’s kidnapped daughter. It wasn’t a lie, and the fact that I left out the truth that Joe was very likely the person responsible for his own daughter’s kidnapping didn’t technically make it one.
As I neared the door, a voice in my ear brought my attention to something else, though.
“The front is slightly open,” Tag said. It sounded like his words were bouncing around directly in my skull. I hated that sensation.
“How on earth could you possibly see that from here?” I asked, still walking toward the building.
“You just looked at it. The contact in your eye allows me to zoom in on whatever it sees. The door is slightly open,” he explained.
“See anything else interesting?” I asked as my ears popped.
“Not yet,” he said.
“Well, then you’re not looking closely enough,” I said, spying the mailbox at the end of the driveway. It was overflowing with envelopes and packages. “Check out the mailbox.”
“Do we know which tenant that mailbox is designated for or is it shared?” Tag asked. “I’d try to look it up, but I doubt there’s much of a cyber footprint for that kind of thing.”
“Probably not, but it doesn’t really matter,” I said. “It either means that one or more of the tenants aren’t here or they have the kind of relationship with each other that would make themuncomfortable checking each other’s mail.” I shook my head. “It could also mean that Joe is here and is just being something of a hermit.”
“Too much of a hermit to walk out to the mailbox?’ Tag asked.
“If he has a kidnapped little girl in that home, then it would make sense that he wouldn’t want to leave here,” I explained.
“And we think that’s something the people downstairs wouldn’t notice?” Tag asked. “In my experience, children aren’t exactly quiet.”
“Maybe they don’t ask questions,” I said. “Or maybe they’re not around to ask questions.”
“You think Joe might have hurt them?” Tag asked.
“I don’t know what’s going on yet, but I know that-if the front door is open, that’s almost certainly not a good sign,” I replied.
I grabbed my gun as I made it to the front porch. Tag was right. The door was ajar, but only slightly.
“That’s some pair of eyes you’ve got,” I said, examining the sliver of space where the door was cracked.
