Stolen Power Read online

  Clearly, Chase Martin tried his best to dress down when he came into the bar.

  Even though it was approaching 8pm, my assistant Casey May arrived not long after I called her, only a few moments after we arrived at Chase Martin’s apartment. Casey was always on call, always ready to take the message, always ready to spring into action. Blonde, smart, sexy; her smooth demeanor was the perfect foil to my gruff.

  “Can I offer you a drink?” Chase gestured to a well-stocked upscale liquor display. “I’m not sure I have your drink of choice though Jack, I’m afraid,” he added with an ever so slight snobbish condescension.

  Sensing my disgust at the flashy display of wealth, Casey jumped in and answered for both of us.

  “No thanks, we’d rather just get on with it.”

  That was my cue.

  “So why us, why not the cops?”

  “I couldn’t go to the cops, not after what happened in Florida. And I’ve already had a few run-ins with the FBI with my business, and I wouldn’t trust them not to bungle it like they did down south.”

  “So you came looking for a private investigator.”

  “I spent the whole day trying to think of what to do. Trying to see if I knew anything before I got someone else involved.” He shook his head. “I researched the best investigator in Chicago and your name kept coming up, but I couldn’t call you. I had to come see you in person. I’m scared that my phone is bugged.”

  Holding his phone, a modern piece of technology if there ever was one, I read the message:

  *****

  I have your daughter. I want one million in cash. In a bag. You have five days. I’ll contact you with the drop point. No cops involved or your daughter gets hurt. You’re being watched.

  *****

  “It’s short and sweet. To the point,” Casey said. “They haven’t given anything away from their language.”

  “It’s someone you know,” I said to Chase. I stood at the window, apparently looking out at the view but watching for Chase’s reaction in the reflection, hands behind my back. “And they know your daughter.”

  He was definitely surprised by that.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Five days is too long for a typical kidnapping. Usually, a kidnapper wants the transaction over and done with as quick as possible. If you say that you can’t get the money in that time, then they’ll give you an extension, but they don’t want it to drag on. So what that says to me is that they know your daughter and are comfortable looking after her for five days.”

  “Or they’re good with kids,” Casey added.

  “Perhaps,” I responded. Casey liked to keep an open mind, I preferred to follow my instincts. “They’re not panicking anyway, and they also know that you have the money to deliver.”

  “I’ve heard that you’re the best.” Chase smiled. “That’s why I came looking for you.”

  “This isn’t a time for smiles.” I grunted my response.

  “Yes.” He nodded. “Sir. Sorry.”

  I was often called Sir, not because of my fashion—black t-shirt, leather jacket, jeans and boots— but usually for my size, as an attempt to appease my character. I’d never wanted to be a real Sir, knighted by that there queen they had over in London, England; but hey, I’ll take it.

  “Talk us through the whole day.” I came back to sit on the white leather couch. It was more comfortable than my bed and probably cost ten times as much. “Tell us what happened.”

  “I took Millie, my five-year-old daughter, to Lincoln Park at 9:30 on Saturday morning. I—”

  “Is that your usual routine?” Casey interrupted, taking notes on her electronic tablet.

  “It is. That’s what we do every Saturday morning. I share custody of Millie with Tanya, my ex-wife, and I pick her up on Saturday morning, and drop her back to her mom’s on Sunday night. We always start the weekend with a play at the park, and then an ice-cream. Her Mom’s pretty strict on sugar, actually she’s obsessed with it, says nonsense like it’s pure white and deadly, but I don’t believe that claptrap, so it’s our special treat.”

  “And she just vanished from the park, right under your nose?”

  “No.” He looked down. It was the first time I saw him look embarrassed. “I was on the phone, taking a work call. Millie was playing and there were probably around ten or so other people in the park. I stepped away from the playground as the conversation got heated, I didn’t want to disturb the other people, or to worry Millie. The call went on longer than I expected…” Chase trailed off. Pausing to collect himself he continued, “After ten minutes I came back. And Millie was gone.”

  “You didn’t check on her for ten minutes?” Casey questioned.

  “It was an important call,” He shrugged. “There were so many other people around, I thought she would’ve been fine. I never expected this. Not in Lincoln Park.”

  “And nobody saw anything?”

  “Not a thing. I was panicking, and then this text comes through about five minutes after I get off the phone. It was when I knew that she hadn’t just wandered off.”

  I’d dealt with a kidnapping once before. The parents contacted me when their child didn’t come home from school, and they received a ransom note, stating no police and a five-thousand-dollar ransom. The problem was, the ransom note contained the watermark from a local cake-making business. I pretended I was a customer, busted the place up, and found the child watching television in the back. It was an Aunty who wanted money from the wealthier part of their family. I took some cake⁠—Boston Cream Pie, my favorite, and it was pretty good too⁠—returned the kid, and told them to behave in the future. Nothing like finances to fire up a long-running family drama.

  “Will Tanya get suspicious if you don’t return Millie on Sunday?”

  “This week, Tanya asked if I could have Millie for an extra couple of days so she could pick up an extra couple of shifts at the bar she works at. Millie’s only five, but we divorced three years ago. Apparently, money is a bit tight for her at the moment.”

  Casey and I exchanged a knowing look as Chase grabbed his phone, providing his ex-wife’s contact and address details.

  “And she works at a bar, and you live here?” Casey raised her eyebrows.

  “We signed a prenup before we got married.”

  “How romantic.”

  “I knew it wouldn’t last, but she got pregnant, so we got married.” Chase shrugged. “I was right—it didn’t last long.”

  “And Millie spends most of her time with Tanya?”

  “I pay alimony but Tanya is legally required to use it for Millie, if she wants extra spending money, Tanya has to earn it herself. I’m not a charity, and I don’t believe in hand outs. I’ve pulled myself up, done it the hard way, that’s how character is built, through struggle. In the long run I’d be doing her a disservice, not a favor, by dropping money in her lap.”

  “Uh-huh,” Casey replied disinterestedly.

  “New wife or girlfriend?” I asked.

  “I have a new girlfriend. Ruby Jones. She’s an Instagrammer.” He smirked. “Only twenty-five. Dumb as a log, but hot. So damn hot.”

  “Romance isn’t dead,” I said. “And do you know where Ruby was when Millie disappeared?”

  “Ruby?” Chase looked faintly amused by the idea. “Well, she stayed overnight but I left her here when I went to pick up Millie. She was still asleep when I left and playdates at the park aren’t really Ruby’s thing. She’s more of an indoor play sort of girl, if you get my meaning.”

  I managed to ignore his wink, but I noticed Casey couldn’t quite stifle her grimace. For the sake of Millie and the case I decided to change gears again.

  “Tell me more about Tanya’s connections. Are you still in contact with any of her relatives?”

  “Damon Hardy, that’s Millie’s grandfather, Tanya’s father. Tanya and I didn’t separate on good terms, but Damon has stayed in my life. I think he secretly hopes we’ll get back together for
Millie’s sake, you know.” He rolled his eyes, then suddenly became more serious. “He’s a good guy though,” he said, nodding his head with a sigh. “He’s got cancer, and won’t live much longer, so he wants to spend as much time with Millie as possible. The rest of the family doesn’t speak to me.”

  “New partner for Tanya?”

  “Kyle Waters. Ex-army. Tough guy, but an alright guy. We get along okay when we have to. He drives trucks now that he’s not in the army.”

  Chase handed a picture of Millie across to me—blonde, blue eyes, gorgeous smile. An angel if there ever was one. I passed the photo to Casey.

  “Any idea who would do this? Anyone in mind?”

  “I don’t think my ex-wife would do it. And I don’t think her family would’ve done it, but there’s one group of people that immediately came to mind.” He drew a long breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m an investment broker, and this one group of investors lost a million dollars five months ago. That’s what my first thought about this was. They’ve been chasing me for the investment the last five months, but the money was lost and there was nothing I could do.”

  “How was the money lost?”

  “In an investment gone bad. It was supposed to be a simple transaction into a start-up company that was going to challenge the way buses operate. They were designing an app that let the user track the bus, call for it to come to their door if on a main road, or make it wait up to a minute while the user ran to it. We were going to triple the money once the company went public. Almost guaranteed. But the company folded and declared bankruptcy as soon as the investment went in.”

  He shrugged as though this was no big deal.

  “However,” I sat back on the couch. “I bet that you still took a commission. Say five percent.”

  “Ten percent.” He smiled proudly. “A hundred thousand.”

  “So even though you lost all their money,” Casey raised her eyebrows. “You still made a hefty return.”

  “That’s the game we play.” He smiled again, hands opened wide. “It was all above board. I did nothing illegal. And there was no recourse against the company, because it was based overseas.”

  Casey could barely hide her disgust.

  “Legal is not the same as moral.”

  “It’s the game. Money’s a game. Life’s a game. Everything is a game.” He reiterated. “And listen, I’ll pay you one-hundred-thousand if you can find my daughter before the money drop. If not, I’ll pay you fifty thousand to make sure the drop goes well. But we can’t get the cops involved or the FBI. No one but us is to find out.”

  “Just another game,” Casey muttered under her breath so that only I could hear.

  I grunted in response.

  “I’m going to need a list of the investors and anything else you think might be relevant.”

  “Because it was an open investment, the list is publicly available,” he responded calmly as he opened his laptop. “Anyone could access the list of investors and their names.”

  I walked across to the bookshelf, and picked up another picture of Millie—happy, smiling, and carefree, wearing a dress with several big colorful pineapples printed on it.

  “Alright if I take this?” I asked.

  Chase shrugged, “Sure.”

  Even though I’d only just met him, I didn’t like Chase Martin, not one bit. I didn’t like the way his hair was slicked back, I didn’t like his arrogant smugness, and I didn’t even like the look of his long horse-like face.

  But I would do everything to save Millie Martin. We only had five days, and I was going to have to act fast, real fast. If I didn’t, well, the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.

  Chapter 4

  As the clock ticked past midnight, Casey and I left the penthouse, descending to the chilled streets of Chicago below.

  It was refreshing to be back in gritty reality after the sterile sanctuary of Chase’s apartment. Everything up there was so false, a contrived pretty picture of the world that bore little semblance to the truth.

  The street outside the apartment building in the Gold Coast was unusually quiet, but it was the early hours on a Sunday morning. I looked around to see if I could see anyone watching us, any hint that someone had eyes on Chase’s place, but I didn’t see anything unusual, apart from a drunken fool trying to sleep in the middle of the road. I walked across, gave him a gentle push with my foot, and he snapped awake, confused about where he was. Casey and I helped him to his feet, and he made it across the rest of the road before falling back down. The gutter was a better place to sleep than the road.

  I considered that my good deed for the day, almost like we were guardian angels for the drunken fools of the world. There was no shortage of them in this city, but I could empathize, I’d spent my fair share of time with the bottle.

  Despite our good deed, Casey and I were silent until we were in my Chevy truck, doors closed and locked, and no one else around. I checked over my shoulder looking for anything unusual, then the mirrors to see any movements. Nothing.

  I took a deep breath, allowing the familiar smell of my truck to focus my mind. I spent so much time in here it was like a second home.

  “Thoughts?” Casey opened her tablet to review her notes.

  “It’s someone that knows Chase and his routine. They’ve probably been monitoring it for weeks to find out that he goes to the playground with his daughter on a Saturday morning. Or maybe they were already familiar with it.” I started the engine, turning on the heater. “And there were no screams. Nobody saw anything unusual, and there was no fuss. Millie wasn’t forced to go anywhere or do anything. She went willingly.”

  Casey nodded then punched some more details into her tablet, quickly pulling up the information she was after.

  “Ok. Ruby Jones—the Instagrammer. Twenty-five. Tall, pretty, redhead.” Casey scrolled through the details. “Describes herself on social media as an ‘influencer.’”

  “One of those,” I groaned. “Someone who tries to influence others through social media so that they can feel good about themselves.”

  “Exactly right. She has literally hundreds of photos of her and Chase in the past year, but none with Millie.” Casey opened another page on the publicly available social media profiles of Ruby Jones. “Oh, interesting; her last post, posted at 9:15am on Saturday, is a picture of her with the view from Chase’s apartment in the background, and she has written: ‘Excited about this fresh, new start.’”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Everything these influencers do is cryptic. It’s designed to get you asking questions, make you want to know more. She’s baiting people to ask questions, but she hasn’t answered them.” Casey bit her bottom lip. “Perhaps she’s talking about a fresh start without Millie. She clearly doesn’t like the girl.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Well,” Casey said, scanning the page, mentally collating the information and sorting it into a single thought. “Not only are there no pictures of Millie, but she uses the hashtag ‘#kidfreeandlovingit’ a lot.”

  “Subtle.”

  “Indeed. And she has a few posts and comments about dropping friends who settle down and start families. ‘Boring’ apparently.”

  I nodded and ran my hands around the smooth steering wheel of my Chevy. The sensation helped focus my mind.

  I did a lot of thinking in my Chevy. It was almost a mobile office for me, especially when time was of the essence, and the pressure was on. When the constant thoughts running through my head got to be too much, I would often jump in the driver’s seat, turn up the tunes, and drive a hundred miles. That’s when an idea would often leap into my head, a thought that had been brewing could come to the surface and get worked out.

  “With social media,” I turned to Casey. “Can you see what’s posted at a particular location?”

  “Anything that’s publicly available, yes.”

  “Look at the park, anything that’s posted around 9
:30am on Saturday.”

  Casey spent a few moments scrolling through the photos before turning the tablet to me.

  “Here, look at this. This mother posted a photo of her child on the swing at 9:33am and in the background you can see Chase on the phone.” She pointed at the tablet. “But no Millie.”

  “He’s a long way from the playground.”

  “Not great parenting,” Casey added. “And this post, it’s from another mother at 9:36am. That looks like Millie playing on the slide behind her son.”

  “It is Millie.” I confirmed. “Anyone else in the picture?”

  “Not that I can see. I can do a broader search for the area, but that’ll take some time to go through. According to the maps, there’s a green space next to the playground, a row of shops across the road, and a parking lot nearby. I can use all those locations to see what we can gather on social media.”

  “Brilliant. In the morning, I’ll also get you to check for any video surveillance footage from those shops,” I added.

  I tapped my hand on the door. I had to replace the door when someone ran into me during a previous job. The woman blindsided me, running a red light, but luckily no one was hurt. Not me, and apart from a few scratches, my beautiful Chevy made it through. I’d only had it a few months, an upgrade after destroying my last Chevy, a far older model, when I had to gain access to a private property by smashing through some wrought iron gates at high speed. Messy job.

  “We can’t do much now, so let’s crash, get a few hours’ sleep, and get back into it in the morning.” Casey yawned. “We’ll see things clearer in the morning, but we’ve only got five days, so what’s the plan?”