Chapter Twenty-Seven

“What do we do?” Dad asked.

“We get over there.”

Everyone rose and scrambled to gather their things.

“We can all fit in the van,” Joe said.

“Don’t lose Lisa. We’ll meet you at the racetrack.” I hung up on Simon. I was still working on gut instinct. When a story heated up, you rarely had time to make detailed plans.

We piled into the van, and Marty got the racetrack on their GPS while Joe headed out of our neighborhood. Mackenzie, seated next to me in the middle row, had her laptop propped on her lap.

Jen leaned forward from the back seat. “Can you get internet on that while we drive?”

“Just need to connect to a hotspot,” Mackenzie murmured.

“I’ll call Padilla,” I said.

Her cell went straight to voicemail. How could I explain everything in a message? “We might know where Hicks is, or where he’s going. Call me back.”

Maybe she was already on his trail. But we couldn’t count on that.

What other officers had I met in the last couple of days? Who would already know the situation? I came up with a couple of names, but I didn’t have a direct line to them, and I didn’t trust them the way I trusted Padilla.

At the moment, Hicks thought he had the upper hand. He expected Lisa to show up alone, fearful and harmless, ready to trade food and money for her son.

“We’re better off letting Hicks make the exchange, Ryan for whatever Lisa has. If he doesn’t release Ryan, then we move on to Plan B.”

“What’s Plan B?” Dad asked.

“I have no idea. I’m still figuring out Plan A.”

“How likely is it that Hicks will release the boy?” Jen’s voice sounded calm and steady, but her eyes looked larger than normal, her skin paler. She had children close to Ryan’s age. “Why would Hicks let go of his leverage?”

“Good question.” Unfortunately. “On the one hand, it doesn’t make sense for Hicks to keep a hostage once he has what he wants. Ryan would be a liability. He could try to escape or attract attention.”

“Assuming he’s still alive,” Joe murmured.

“Killing him would cause even more trouble.” I hoped I was right. “Hicks wouldn’t have any hold over Lisa, and he’d face another murder charge.”

“But if Hicks releases Ryan right away, what’s to stop Lisa and Ryan from calling the police?” Jen asked.

I groaned. “I don’t know. Maybe he’ll drive away before he lets Ryan go. He might say he’ll release Ryan at the Mexican border or something.”

Or he might drive some distance and kill Ryan. He might take Lisa with him as well. She’d go to stay near Ryan. He might kill both of them to get rid of witnesses or to punish the people he blamed for his current situation.

Considering every “what if” led only to panic. I drew a deep, meditative breath and tried to release the anxiety the way I usually tried to release pain from my body. It worked about as well.

But people were counting on me for a plan.

“Our goal is to get Ryan away from Hicks at the racetrack. If Hicks doesn’t have Ryan there, or if we can’t separate them, then we follow Hicks and keep eyes on him at all times. Hicks will recognize Lisa’s car and Simon’s Camaro but not this van. If we follow without him noticing, we might still have a chance to quietly rescue Ryan, or get the police after them.”

And we’d make sure Hicks never got to a place where he could kill the boy unobserved.

“That makes sense,” Dad said. “We can have the police set up roadblocks.”

I pictured our group as chess pieces, getting ready to cross the board. Too bad I didn’t know where the opposing side’s pieces were.

“Simon is following Lisa. Dad and Jen, you find them. Lisa has seen Simon, but neither Hicks nor Lisa has seen either of you. If Lisa meets Hicks and then they split up again, stick with him. If we have a chance to talk with Lisa and confirm what’s happening, great. But we can’t lose sight of Hicks.”

Dad and Jen looked at each other and nodded. I leaned forward. “Joe and Marty, stay in the van. If Hicks leaves by car, go after him, even if the rest of us aren’t back yet. If Hicks is alone, we’ll call the police. If we think he still has Ryan . . . We’ll see.”

Marty twisted toward me. “You can count on us, honey.”

I turned to Mackenzie. “You’re still tracking Ryan’s phone?”

“It hasn’t moved from the racetrack parking lot.”

“Then you and I go after him. He may or may not be with Hicks.” Ryan had to be restrained, either physically or by threat. I didn’t say that he might be injured or dead already. Or that his phone might not be with him. If Ryan was conscious and had his phone, he’d call for help. Maybe Hicks had kidnapped Ryan, dropped his phone at the racetrack to lay a false trail, and gone elsewhere. In that case, our only option was to stick with Lisa. But it was worth finding that phone and hoping Ryan was nearby.

“After Jen and my dad relieve Simon, my dad can join us.”

Then Mackenzie would have a partner if I couldn’t keep up. I massaged my thigh, trying to get the muscles loose and ready. Good thing I’d remembered to take the latest dose of ibuprofen, and adrenaline forced the pain into the background.

Had I covered all the bases? I tried to picture the scene we might find. “Is anything happening at the raceway right now? Will it be empty or busy?”

Either option could work for Hicks. An abandoned track offered privacy for an exchange, but a crowd made it easier to hide and harder for police to get aggressive. For us, the crowd would be better.

Mackenzie checked the track’s calendar on her computer. “Moderately busy, I’d say. It’s not a pro race or anything, but tonight anyone can bring a car, truck, or motorcycle and use the track.”

Jen’s eyes widened. “That sounds dangerous.”

Mackenzie scrolled down her screen. “Only one person goes on the track at a time, so you compare your time to others instead of racing them directly. Free parking, gates are open now, racing starts in about half an hour. Um . . . judging by the reviews, it doesn’t get too crowded and is good ‘family fun,’ but we certainly won’t be alone.”

“It’ll be full of other innocent people, even children,” Jen said.

“But on the bright side, we can blend in with the crowd,” I said. “We have two goals tonight. Get Ryan away from Hicks safely, and keep bystanders and ourselves safe. Capturing Hicks is a distant third, and something we can leave to the police. If there’s security at the track, we might clue them in. No need to go into the complicated details, just tell them a guy kidnapped his ex-girlfriend’s son to threaten her. Seeing security around shouldn’t worry Hicks the way a police uniform might. And their first goal should also be to keep the track patrons safe.”

I closed my eyes and played the possible scenarios over in my mind, but we couldn’t plan for every contingency. Too many detailed instructions might confuse the others. Better to trust them to use their own good sense.

We’d done all I could think of to prepare.

The drive seemed to take forever, and yet before I was ready Marty said, “We should reach the track in ten minutes.”

“Everyone knows the plan?” I asked. “Everyone has a phone on and charged and ready?”

Mine was down to thirty percent power, but that would last several hours. If we weren’t done long before that, we had other problems.

My phone rang.

“We’re here,” Simon said. “Lisa parked and got out. She’s standing by her car, on her phone, looking around. I managed to park behind an SUV so she can’t see me.”

“Okay. We’re not far behind you. Stick with her.”

I explained the rest of our plan.

We pulled up to the racetrack and Joe slowed to study the signs.

I told Simon, “We’re turning onto the dirt road that leads alongside the racetrack.”

“Good. Lisa has joined the crowd. She might be heading toward the concession stand. Can’t tell yet.”

I looked out the window. “Concession stand, anyone see it?”

Jen pointed. “There.”

Joe stopped the car as close as he could.

“Okay, Jen and Dad, you two find Simon. He should be nearby. Mackenzie, where’s Ryan’s phone?”

Dad and Jen scrambled out.

Mackenzie said, “The phone has started moving. It was in the parking lot, but now it’s heading this way.”

I blew out a breath. “If Ryan is walking around free, we’re wrong about all this. It may be Hicks with Ryan’s phone.”

“So what do we do?” Joe asked.

The phone hadn’t moved until Lisa arrived. Hicks would want to stay near Ryan until then, wouldn’t he?

“Mackenzie, how close can you identify the spot in the parking lot where the phone was a minute ago? We should go there.”

“I can’t pick out a specific car, but it was in that back corner.”

Joe pulled up to the right area.

I opened the door. “Mac and I will get out here. Joe, head back toward the entrance so we don’t miss Hicks if he tries to leave.”

As the van drove away, Mackenzie and I stood on the packed dirt, studying the three dozen cars in that section of the parking lot. Some of them might be employee vehicles. A couple had serious damage, maybe race day failures waiting to be towed away for scrap. I didn’t see the truck Hicks had driven before, but he might have another vehicle from the garage.

My phone rang.

“Lisa met some guy behind the concession stand,” Jen said. “I assume it’s Hicks. She gave him the bag of groceries, but she won’t let go of her purse. They’re arguing. No sign of a teenage boy. Well, none having anything to do with these two.”

“Good. I hope she can delay him a few minutes. You know what to do.”

I hung up and studied the cars. “Ryan could be in one of these. Maybe unconscious or tied up. Maybe in the trunk.”

“I can look in the seats and knock on the trunks,” Mackenzie said, “but if he’s unconscious how will we find him?”

“Start looking. If you don’t find him, maybe by then I’ll have an answer.”

She darted to the closest car, thumped on the trunk, called out, “Ryan!” and ducked to look in the windows.

I hobbled to the next row of cars. By the time I got there, Mackenzie was on her third car. She had speed, but I had . . . absolutely nothing. No ideas, no answers. What if Ryan was unconscious in a trunk? What clue might tell us which car Hicks had driven? Other than him coming back and getting into it again, that is.

I rapped on the trunk and listened. No response. No one in the seats.

My phone rang again. “Hicks is heading toward the parking lot with Lisa,” Jen said.

I turned to scan the direction of the track. No one coming yet. But time was running out.

“What was that?” Jen asked.

I must’ve whimpered. “Stick with him.” If we had to confront Hicks, we’d need all the help we could get. Or would it be better to hide and watch what he did next?

I checked the next car.

Nothing.

And the next. Empty. Mackenzie had finished her row and skipped over mine to start on the next. Knock knock knock. Duck, peer. Next car.

I rapped on a side panel. She hammered on a trunk.

Someone else knocked?

“Be quiet a second.”

We both froze, tense and listening.

I scanned the direction of the track. Still nothing.

Wait.

Two people emerged from the denser area of cars. They’d reach us in a minute, two at most.

Thunk thunk thunk.

The knocking came from closer to us, barely audible over all the background noise from the track. The muffled thuds didn’t sound like our sharp rapping on metal. They sounded more like . . . someone kicking the car from inside.

I shuffled forward, turning my head to try to locate the source of the sound. A flutter of movement caught my eye. Something small, flickering at the back of a beat-up brown sedan. Sun glinting off the taillight?

No. A hand. Sticking through a hole where the taillight had been.

“I think we found him.” I pointed and limped toward the sedan.

Mackenzie rushed ahead. Once she spotted what I’d seen, she crouched behind the trunk. The hand disappeared, and the thumping—probably Ryan kicking the trunk from inside—stopped.

“Ryan? Hang on. We’re going to get you out,” Mackenzie said through the hole. She stood and tried to open the trunk.

It didn’t budge. How were we going to get him out? We had no tools.

“See if a door’s unlocked,” I said. “Pop the trunk from inside.”

She checked all the doors. “Nope.”

“Break a window.”

Mackenzie dashed to the edge of the parking lot and grabbed a rock as big as two fists. She paused by the driver’s door.

“Careful. Don’t cut your hands.”

She stepped back about three feet and threw the rock. It hit with a sharp tink and bounced back. Mac leaped out of the way and grabbed the rock from the ground before it stopped rolling. She hoisted the rock and stayed close for the next hit, though she turned her face away.

Tink. Tink. The window held.

Two people crossed the open dirt area. One large and broad through the chest, one shorter and plump. Had they noticed us yet?

My head went fuzzy and my vision blurred. Breathe.

I had to protect Mackenzie until she freed Ryan. I needed to hold off Hicks, with words, if possible, or physically, if necessary. I shifted into a “ready stance,” feet apart, weight on the balls of my feet.

My left leg trembled, throwing more of my weight onto the cane. I wobbled.

Finally I found some kind of balance. How was I supposed to make use of the adrenaline, the fight or flight response, when I could neither fight nor flee?

Behind me, Mackenzie growled. Several thuds came in rapid succession. The sound of breaking glass did not follow.

At long last, a thud turned into a brief tinkle of falling glass.

Mackenzie dropped her rock. She braced one hand on the car roof and used her foot to push the remaining glass fragments into the car. Once, I could have managed that move, but not today. Good thing I had her along.

She swung open the door and ducked inside the car.

The people drew close enough to definitely identify Steve Hicks and Lisa. Had he spotted us yet? What would he do?

A clunk sounded behind me as the trunk popped open. I got one glimpse of Ryan, sitting up with a gag in his mouth, before Mackenzie blocked my view.

“Let me get this off you,” she said.

“Hurry.” I swung in the other direction.

Hicks raced toward me.