Antonio found the source of the flowers and the delivery company used for the chocolates, both in Memphis, Tennessee. He didn't question why he was working so ardently but if he did he would know that his efforts were overcompensation for his guilt and to a lesser extent, his jealousy. The work allowed for his denial of the start of old feelings that presented Nicole in a romanticised light and encouraged his irrationality. He decided to stop flogging the dead horse that was their relationship months ago and stood by it. Jess walked in on his phone call to Xiomara and was sure that esposas meant handcuffs.
"What'd you find?" jess asked, as he wiped the grin off his face.
"I tracked the delivery orders back to the last place Rashad saw Nicole."
"Let me guess; it was paid for in cash so we can't conclude if he's behind it and that means we have to release him."
"It appears that way; but after obtaining the security tapes from that day I have footage of the man who made the order. He's African-American, in his late fifties/early sixties and has prison tats. Nina's right; Philip Dumont is Nicole's kidnapper."
"That's if the kidnapper is he same person who sent the flowers."
"He's also Rashad's uncle."
Jess' face went pale. "Get out. Well that's good for us and terrible for Nicole. Did the Memphis PD spot the rented minivan?"
"No. Any new visions?"
"No; she's still running so I suppose that means she's still on the move. The shortest route from here to Chicago is 697 miles which would take around 13 hours depending on how many stops they make. Which part of Chicago did she grow up in?"
"The foster homes were mostly on the South and West sides." Antonio brought up his earlier search and altered the location. "There's a match to your vision; Cabrini Green Projects, Northeast Chicago."
"If that's the green I saw then Nina will know where to go. Why would he take her back there?"
"To finish what he started?"
Pollock's fond attachment with the media was backfiring as he'd spent the last four hours denying claims that an FBI agent from the missing persons task Force had ironically gone missing. He was, however, impressed that Rashad didn't break under interrogation regardless of the intensity of the grilling and the gravity of the accusations. Jess and Antonio's theory of Rashad's involvement grew slimmer in credibility as time passed.
"How would Dumont recognise Agent Scott when she was a toddler during their last encounter?"
"They met at a family barbecue. Nina said she's the spitting image of her father and it would be difficult to forget the face of a man whose head you caved in and spent twenty seven years in jail for."
"Thank you for the macabre imagery Mastriani. We're running out of time to charge Mr. Williams."
"I know sir but there's a possibility he was involved. What if Dumont located Nicole and sent in his nephew to gain her trust? Then he could plan to enact his revenge on Nina by taking Nicole the night she intended to meet him." Antonio reasoned.
"And you say this with no evidence of long-term correspondence? Wow. That's a stretch. Are you certain he's linked or do you want to be? Drop this line of investigation and focus on locating that minivan and tracking where this psycho has taken her. Release Mr. Williams."
The following morning 2.30a.m..
"What do you think he meant?" Antonio asked Jess while sticking pins in a map from the sightings of the minivan.
Jess exhaled. "You wanted to think the worst of Rashad because that makes him less threatening."
"I'm not threatened." He snapped.
"Okay. Why is Dumont making this so easy? It's like he wants us to find him."
"He doesn't know the FBI are looking for her because the only person whose attention he wants is her mother's."
"I have to admit; twenty-seven years is a long time to brood."
"Nina only got ten because she testified against him for a lower sentence in her own trial."
"That's got to hurt. After his release in 2000, he tried to contact her; she changed her numbers and address. In 2004, she changed her name. She must have known he wanted contact and denying it was likely to agitate him."
During the twenty-something hours they never spent more than ten feet away from each other and Nicole had realised who she was with. She recognised his voice from the barbecue and remembered being introduced to him at a time when she had no way of identifying who he was. Now her fear of meeting the same fate as her father was compounded by the crushing feeling of betrayal as she subscribed to Antonio's original train of thought. She thought she was past the age of being manipulated by men and one she thought was worth it had quenched that belief. By the time they arrived at his apartment, the delirium had worn off but the urge to kill him was suppressed by rubbing the spot on her wrist where she was injected.
"This was never about you. It was about us being together like we planned as kids. Then in walks Ray with his goddamn Southern drawl and she left me. Only to come back running when he started beating her and I fell for her again." He lit a cigarette and offered her one which she took to relax. After a few drags it settled her nerves. "One day he came home early from work. She left you watching TV, we were in the bedroom and to cut a long story short; he had it coming. I told her to paint a story the judge would cry over, lie through her teeth about not knowing what happened so I set up a good life for her when she got out. Instead she sang like a fucking canary." Nicole knew that if he kept talking it might just save her life so she let him go on, invariably silent, but the fear never subsided as did the wish that her friends were on their way.
"Please tell me you've got something." Nina pleaded to Pollock.
"She's not where you thought. She's not even in Chicago. What happened the last time you spoke?"
"I moved to Detroit to start over and he called. I knew I wasn't safe."
"So you fled the apartment?"
"Yeah; I left it just as it was."
Pollock handed her a list of everywhere she'd lived in the last ten years. "Where?"
"Do you know what kismet means? Destiny. That's what brought us together the first time we met. Don't you remember? Come on baby, Memphis. You wore that green top on jeans, I have to admit; you looked so good I meant to talk to you. Then my nephew put his arm around you and I thought; step off. When we shook hands I recognised you right away; because you look just like that pretty motherfucker." He offered her another cigarette and she took it. Her hand was shaking from the news of her boyfriend's lineage. As an investigator, she didn't believe in coincidences.
"If you were mine; it wouldn't have been this way. Looking at you; I wish you were. Do you know what happens to a man in jail? He loses the will to live and the only thing that keeps him going is the idea that somebody is waiting on the other side. Do you like what I did with the place? I wanted it to be real nice for you so you'd come back." She realised she was talking to the loneliest man she had ever met. He slowly pulled her Glock out of his jacket on the coffee table. "I found this in your glove box. Something tells me you're skilled with it too. Am I right?" She took a long drag of the second cigarette and nodded. "Good. A pretty one like you has to protect herself. I bet you have to beat them off with a stick. I'm so glad you're home."
A call to the landline jolts Nicole and gratifies Philip. "You started this baby, now come up here and finish it. You've got ten minutes." Nicole sussed out her mother was on the end of the line instead of Pollock and couldn't decipher whether that was a good or bad thing. "You want what?" He asked, then relented and gave Nicole the phone on loudspeaker. "Nicole?"
"I'm here mom." Nicole replies, knowing this part of the procedure: proof of life.
"Hold tight; we're coming to get you." Nicole shook her head at her mother's lack of discretion.
"We?" His abrasive question was answered by Pollock's call to his cell phone. Whatever Pollock was saying was threatening enough for him to grab the gun from the coffee table and force her against the wall. "What happens next?" He asked, pressed the steel to her left temple.
