Hide 'N Seek Read online

  “I’m not in the mood, Jamie.”

  She cut him off and hit the end button, shoving the phone into her pocket. The phone started to ring and she thought it was Jamie calling back, but when she looked at the caller ID it was her grandmother.

  “Hi, Nan.”

  Their parents had died in a car accident when she was thirteen. Sydney was three years younger. Nan had raised her and Sydney. Not wanting to worry Nan, Markie thought she would wait until Syd surfaced before getting her involved.

  “Marklynn,” Nan said, voice deep with worry. Her voice was strong for an eighty-year-old woman. Markie could picture Nan in her pink house frock with her gray hair in a neat bun pacing the floor as she often did when she was troubled. And Sydney was usually the cause of her worries.

  Nan was the only one who was allowed to call her by her given name. To Markie, it sounded too formal and since Nan was born in England, it just made sense somehow.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Sydney is in trouble,” she said without missing a beat.

  “Did she call you?” Markie asked, as she was about to enter Syd’s apartment building then stopped at the glass door and turned to look out onto the road where the Navigator had been parked.

  “No. It’s just a feeling,” Nan said. “Have you heard from her?”

  Nan was better at predicting the weather than any meteorologist around. Since Nan’s premonitions were always correct, Markie paused before answering. She didn’t want to upset Nan.

  “I’m at her place. We were to have lunch today but she’s not here.”

  “What has she gotten herself into? Why can’t she be more like you?”

  Yeah, right, Markie thought. How many times had she heard that? Sydney was Sydney. She loved adventure and didn’t want the responsibility of taking care of anyone but herself. Sometimes she wished she were more like her sister instead of taking care of the whole world. But wasn’t that what she did best?

  “There’s no need to worry. She’ll show up in a day or two wondering what all the fuss is about.”

  “No. Something happened to her. I can feel it,” Nan insisted. “She could be hurt.”

  “Let me look into it and get back to you.”

  “You need to find out what happened to her. Can I count on you to do that? She’s not like you.”

  There it was again, the responsibility that she didn’t want being shoved upon her, as it often was when they were growing up. That had created some friction between her and Syd.

  “Marklynn? Are you still there?”

  “Yes, Nan. I’ll take care of it,” she said, weary, when she saw the uniformed officer step out of the squad car. “I gotta go.”

  “Hi I’m Marklynn Brooks,” she said as the officer approached the building and she opened the door to let him in. She dropped the phone in her jacket pocket. “I made the call.”

  He followed her into the building and she waited by Sydney’s apartment door until he motioned for her to enter.

  “Did you touch anything?”

  He was a senior from the Cambridge police department. She could tell from the pins on his collars. He was tall, of athletic build, his head shaved.

  Cambridge was across the river from Boston. Even though her issues were with one man, not the entire Boston PD, word still got around. The way he looked at her she knew that he recognized her after she’d shown him her ID. Maybe she was being paranoid. After all, it had been almost five years ago.

  “I used to be a cop,” Markie said. “I know the drill.”

  “I didn’t ask if you knew the drill. I asked if you touched anything.”

  Oh yeah. He was still carrying a grudge and so were some of her former colleagues.

  “No. I didn’t touch anything.”

  Police officers were a tight-knit group. There was a bond between them and if you went against one you suffered the wrath of all. In her case, it was a select group that worshiped the Shift Commander, Jeffery Booker.

  The complaint she’d filed against him had never been forgotten. To make sure she never did, she was reminded with every speeding ticket as well as with having her vehicle towed without cause. Of course, the police officers were only doing their job.

  The tickets became fewer as the years went on and they’d stopped towing her car.

  She’d had her fight. It was over. Maybe not for them but it was for her. It was about Sydney and what had happened to her.

  “What time did you arrive at the apartment?”

  “Just before noon. I heard a noise coming from the bedroom and approached it. There was a man wearing a black ski mask. I’d say he was about five eight, one hundred and forty pounds. He could be of Asian descent.”

  “If you didn’t see his face, how do you know he’s Asian?”

  She suppressed the urge to talk down to him as he was doing to her.

  “I could see his eyes. He also had a tattoo on his left ankle. It was some kind of dragon symbol. I saw it when he jumped out the window. I chased after him but he escaped in a pickup.”

  Markie gave him a description of the pickup and what she saw of the driver. She watched as he reluctantly wrote the information down all the while giving her the I’d rather be some place else look.

  “Anything else?”

  “No.”

  Markie didn’t tell him about Mr. Navigator. Although she didn’t think he and Sydney were involved she couldn’t say for sure. Until she figured out what her sister was up to, Mr. Navigator was her problem.

  He was lying about something and she intended to find out what it was.

  Chapter Two

  Sydney groaned as she opened her eyes. Her head throbbed and each time she tried to move a blinding pain shot through her skull. She tried to lift her hand and that was when she realized her hands were tied behind her back. Her feet were bound with rope and her mouth was covered with silver duct tape.

  With no window and no watch she was disoriented, unable to tell where she was or even the time of day. Someone had taken her watch and now she knew why.

  She worked the rope until her wrists felt raw. They were probably bleeding. Couldn’t they have at least put her in a chair? Then she would have had a better chance of freeing herself.

  She wiggled to the edge of the mattress that covered the cot and wrinkled her nose. What was that stench? Oh God. A cross between vomit and urine assaulted her senses and she scrambled to sit up.

  Using her shoulder, Sydney pushed herself into a sitting position then lost her balance and fell over at the other end of the cot. She needed to get her hands in front of her body. All those years Nan had forced her to do gymnastics training had to be worth something.

  Rolling on to her back and taking a deep breath, she widened her elbows then wiggled her buttocks between her bound hands, gritting her teeth when the pressure of the rope bit into her wrists. With her buttocks on the bed, and with careful precision so as not to dislocate any joints, she was able to put her legs through her bound hands to get them in front of her.

  Smiling at her small accomplishment, she ripped the duct tape from her mouth and almost screamed with the pain. She had to check the tape to see if her skin had parted company with her face.

  Now that she’d removed the duct tape from her mouth, she worked at the rope on her wrists. It loosened enough so her fingers could untie her feet then she made her way over to the steel door. It was bolted from the outside. There was no keyhole to see what was on the other side of the door. All she heard was something that sounded like a generator kicking in.

  What she wouldn’t give to have another round with Blondie. Although Sydney had her doubts she was a real blonde. She could have taken the woman down had she not introduced Sydney’s right side to a taser gun. An introduction she would have been happy to live her life without.

  There was no furniture in the room except for the cot. Given the size, Sydney concluded that it was some sort of storage room. Only a single bare light bulb hung from a white elect
rical cord that cast a snake-like shadow against the cement wall. The concrete floor was a dingy brown and she didn’t want to think about what the brown spots were that covered it all the way to the door.

  “What now?” she asked aloud. The question of the moment raced through her mind. She breathed in deep and exhaled slowly several times, trying not to give in to the fear that threatened to suffocate her.

  How was she going to get out of this mess? Would anyone notice she’d gone missing? She didn’t think so. Through the haze, bits and pieces of information floated into her thoughts. Lunch with Markie…pictures…men with guns.

  She was supposed to meet her sister for lunch. This wasn’t the first time she’d stood Markie up. Markie would think she’d brushed her off and go on about her business. The way she lived her life had finally caught up to her. Fear settled over her like a blanket.

  Sydney thought about Derrick. He was tall, strong and full of life. She had wanted to be a better person because of him. He’d made her laugh and told her she was special. Then she remembered he was dead. Given her present situation, she might suffer the same fate.

  • • •

  It had taken the entire day but the bedroom window was boarded up to be replaced within a few days, and the front door locks changed.

  At 7:00 p.m. the police finally left and the superintendent, a lanky man with sunburned face, dropped the new set of door keys in Markie’s hand, leaving her to deal with the mess inside the apartment.

  Since Markie’s name was on Sydney’s lease as an emergency contact he had no problem giving her the keys.

  Before she thought about sweeping up the glass or putting the books back on the shelf, she removed her jacket and threw it on the sofa. She grabbed a white garbage bag from under the kitchen sink and proceeded to the washroom.

  Kicking off her shoes, she threw them in the garbage bag and set the bathtub. She sat on the edge of the tub, rolled up her pant legs to her knees and sank her feet into the warm soapy water.

  Oh, I think you stepped in something.

  She thought about Mr. Navigator as she sat on the edge of the tub drying her feet with a towel. Nothing gets by him.

  Then something occurred to her. The bathroom was the only room that was still intact. Everywhere else, in the apartment was in a shambles except for the bathroom. Why? It was the only place that hadn’t been searched yet.

  Her eyes focused on every detail in the bathroom. From the white pedestal sink, to the silver medicine cabinet with the mirrored door, to the white tiled floor covered with the red bathroom mat.

  The toilet was beside the tub. Above the toilet was a framed picture of a baby sitting in the midst of mounds of toilet paper. Above the picture was a vent for the washroom fan.

  Throwing the towel aside, she rose to her feet. With one foot on the toilet lid and the other balanced on the edge of the tub, Markie peered through the slits of the vent and thought she saw something inside.

  Markie jumped to the floor then raced towards the kitchen. She grabbed a dinner knife from a drawer and headed back to the bathroom. Using the flat edge of the knife she pried the cover off the vent and pulled out a manila envelope folded in half with a telephone number written across the top. Sitting on the edge of the tub, she brushed off the dust from the envelope and opened it.

  Inside the envelope were several pictures of a black van with the company name, Beck Security Systems, written on the side. The van was parked in front of a large white brick house with columns along the front entrance. The digital date and time stamped on the picture was four days ago at 3:30 a.m.

  One picture showed people in the background. Sydney had highlighted their heads in yellow and above them were question marks in red. Markie sat staring at the pictures and wondered if they were the reason Sydney had called and invited her to lunch. She remembered asking Sydney what the occasion was but Syd had only laughed saying, “Can’t I take my sister to lunch?”

  Now that Markie thought about it, it had been one of Sydney’s nervous laughs. That should have alerted her that something was wrong and the lunch invitation was just a cover.

  Placing the pictures back in the envelope, she hurried to the living room to grab her phone. She punched in the number printed on the envelope and waited.

  “Thank you for calling Beck Security Systems. Our office hours are from—”

  Markie hit the end button cutting off the automated voice. Reaching for Syd’s laptop that had fallen between the bookshelf and the desk, she turned it on and drummed her fingers on the desk as it booted up. She selected the Internet browser and googled Beck Security Systems.

  After wading through pages of information on the website she wasn’t interested in, she found the page with the management team. And there he was, staring at her from the computer screen as he had a few hours ago.

  “Well hello, Mr. Navigator.”

  • • •

  Beck stared out of the bedroom window of his twenty-fifth floor penthouse condo. With two thousand square feet of panoramic view it was a retreat at the end of a long workday, but not lately. He’d been spending all of his time at the office. Home was an extension of his office. The long grueling schedule would continue into the night and tonight was no exception.

  At 4:00 a.m. while the world slept, his legs pounded on the treadmill as sweat poured from his body. He hadn’t been able to sort out the latest test data he’d gotten yesterday from his partner, Malcolm. That spiked his frustration level up two more bars on the frustration meter. He had stared at the computer screen until his head started to pound and his eyes began to burn.

  With a degree in computer science and an MBA, he was still stumped. The review of the program code written for the installation of the alarm system looked flawless. But looks can be deceiving because something was wrong.

  Beck jumped off the treadmill and turned it off. He grabbed the towel from the handle of the treadmill, wiped the sweat from his face. Then he draped the towel around his neck thinking about Victoria Kelly and his run in with Miss Rambo.

  Victoria Kelly had called him five days ago with damaging information she said she had on his company. When he’d told her he didn’t know what she was talking about, she said she had pictures and would call him back to arrange a time and meeting location. He wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing while she buried his company with false allegations.

  When he had the call traced to an apartment in Cambridge, he wanted to confront Victoria Kelly, not Marklynn Brooks of Brooks Investigations. That’s who the plates on the 4Runner was registered to.

  Why would Victoria hire Miss Rambo? And what happened to Victoria Kelly?

  Questions bounced around in his head as he made his way to the adjoining bathroom. After a long shower, he stepped out of the glassed-enclosed shower stall. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he left behind wet footprints on the smooth black and white tiled marble floor.

  The bathroom was divided into two large sections separated by a glass-blocked wall. One side housed the shower, toilet and an oversized soaker tub that he had never used and the other side a large vanity with double glass sinks. With its black and white décor, the bathroom was all about luxury, a luxury he was too busy to enjoy.

  He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror over the vanity and paused, remembering the sound of crushed metal and broken glass.

  It had been four years since the car accident. He stared at the scars that ran up his torso to his neck. After two surgeries, this was the best the doctors could do.

  Everything happens for a reason, right? Well, he hadn’t figured that one out yet.

  It had taken him a while to let go of the turtleneck sweaters and graduate to shirts. He was never a tie person and at first it bothered him that people would stare when his shirt was unbuttoned at the neck. Let them look, he thought, and with that he dressed and headed out the front door.

  • • •

  It was 7:00 a.m. when Beck pulled into his parking spot in th
e underground parking of Beck Security Systems. On his fifteen-minute commute he had already done more than most people would accomplish in an entire morning. He didn’t believe in wasting time. His ex would attribute it to what she would call his Type A personality. He called it being efficient.

  Beck had decided that Marklynn Brooks would not derail his plan of finding Victoria Kelly. He believed she was the key. He had formulated a plan of action in his mind, step by step to catch the person sabotaging his company. A meeting with his executive team to execute the plan was on the agenda this afternoon after Malcolm’s meeting with IT.

  He stepped out of his SUV and saw Malcolm heading towards him. At forty, Malcolm Rivers had a full head of gray hair that one would assume came with age. But in his case he’d come by it prematurely. He also sported a natural tan as a result of being biracial.

  Malcolm was smart intellectually but when it came to women, his choices weren’t always the greatest. But who was he to judge? Look what happened to him and Monika. To say their divorce was bitter was an understatement. Then she died and he was accused of murder.

  “Good morning,” Beck said as Malcolm approached. Pushing that part of his life behind, Beck juggled the two laptops and his briefcase then closed the door with his hip. “You look like you haven’t been to bed yet.”

  “Have you?” Malcolm raised his brows.

  Beck shook his head. “I’m still trying to go through the network vulnerability assessment data. I can’t figure out how our security system is being hacked into. There was nothing in the port scan. I thought for sure it would help us identify Shadoe.”

  Shadoe was the name that Malcolm had given the hacker. Beck didn’t see the point in giving the hacker a name. To him it meant giving the intruder more power than he warranted. Power taken by force, power he didn’t deserve.

  “I’ve been through it; our IT people have been through it and we’re still going through it. Now you have and can’t find anything either.”

  “It’s like finding a damn needle in a haystack, but I have a plan. I’m calling an executive meeting this afternoon. This has gone on three months too long. What if we…”