Chapter 12 - The Worst Kind of Bargain
"That's not a bargain," Jo said. "That's a kidnapping."
Adrian came running down the stairs, breathing hard. "I found Nora. She's alive. Security shoved her in a supply closet. She says Vanessa ordered it."
"Can Nora testify?" I asked.
"She's calling an attorney now. Mara, what's wrong?"
I showed him the photograph of my mother. His face went tight.
"We get her back," he said.
I wanted to believe that people with money and lawyers always knew how to rescue somebody. I'd spent seventeen years learning the opposite.
Eli arrived moments later. He studied the photo instead of speaking. "They took care to show the newspaper," he said. "Look at the edge of the chair. There's blue paint on it. And that wall behind her, see the water line?"
"The old Bellwether warehouse," I said.
"Maybe. We verify before we walk into a trap."
Jo checked the digital signature on the photo. "Sent through a burner account, but the image compression matches Sterling security software. Their cameras use a custom export setting."
Adrian's eyes narrowed. "Vanessa's private security vendor is Blackgate. She hired them after someone threatened her last summer."
"Who threatened her?" I asked.
"She said a stalker. I never saw the messages."
My phone rang. Vanessa's name appeared.
"You found your little surprise," she said without greeting.
"Let my mother go."
"Give me the ledger."
"I don't have it."
"Then find it. You have until noon."
"You don't get to order me around anymore."
"I always have," she hissed. "People like you just don't realize it."
For a second I heard something behind her: a train horn, long and low, followed by a man's voice counting down numbers. I covered my other ear to hear better.
"Vanessa," I said, "do you remember what happened after the Bellwether fire?"
She went quiet.
"I remember your father standing in our kitchen and telling my mother she should be grateful he wasn't calling child services," I continued. "I remember you in a pink coat watching from the car. You were older than me. Old enough to know we were scared."
"I was a kid."
"So was I."
The call disconnected. I stared at the screen, furious at how much that answer had sounded like a plea.
Eli tapped the photo. "The warehouse is near the old freight line. But this wall was painted after the fire. Look up Blackgate's property contracts."
Jo typed, searched, then stopped. "Oh, that's nasty."
Blackgate Security leased the riverfront warehouse under a subsidiary name. It also held the keys to six former foster-care facilities funded by Sterling Community Partners.
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A seventh address was marked ACTIVE.
Under SITE MANAGER was a name we recognized: Mateo Reyes.
