Chapter 17

ETA 8 mins

There was no response to the text Dante sent Hailey, but he was not concerned. In the time they'd worked together, they had developed their own way of communicating. She didn't usually respond, but he knew she'd be out front waiting for him.

Except she wasn't.

Maybe she's finishing a conversation with Jay. Or brushing her teeth. No worries.

Five minutes passed and there was still no sign of Hailey. Dante texted once more: Ready?

Again, no response. He called her number and it rolled to voice mail. He could see her car parked in its usual spot. A sudden, intense feeling of unease came over him. Something's wrong. He exited the car and sprinted to the door, hand on his weapon.

"Officer! Officer!" called an elderly man with two small dogs on leashes. "I found this phone by Ms. Upton's car. But I'm not sure if it's hers. It was ringing just now."

Dante glanced down. He recognized it as Hailey's. "You know Hailey?"

"Not well. My wife and I moved here last month. We've only spoken in passing. She seems like a nice young woman." The man frowned. "I hope everything's okay. It would be horrible if something happened while her husband is away serving."

Dante took the phone. "I'm going upstairs to check. Can you wait here, Mister . . .?"

"Delaney. Oscar Delaney. Of course." The man made the sign of the cross. "I'll say a prayer for her."

Dante nodded. "Please do."

Dante took the stairs two steps at a time. The hall was empty. There was the sound of a TV behind one door and a dog barking behind another. As he approached her door, he noticed a blood smear on the wall and that the door was not closed all the way. Drawing his weapon, he nudged the door open with his foot.

A chair was overturned and Hailey's weapon and jacket were on the floor. A plant had been knocked off the table behind the couch with dirt spilled on the carpet. The living room light was on. Dante's heart was pounding. "Hailey! Hailey, call out!"

Total silence. The apartment was not large, and Dante quickly cleared the rest of it.

I should have checked on her last night. Dear God, please let her not be hurt.

Pulling out his phone, Dante called Voight. "Sarge, there's a problem. I think Hailey's been kidnapped."

Voight was driving to the District and almost ran off the road when he heard those words. "Kidnapped? What are you talking about?"

"I came to pick her up, but she's not here. There's been a struggle, some blood on the wall and a neighbor found her phone in the parking lot. Her car's still here and . . ."

"Torres, slow down. Have you talked to any other neighbors?"

"No. Oh my God! Why didn't I call her?"

"Dante, take a breath. Did you touch anything?"

"No. The front door was unlocked, so I came in. I was afraid she might be injured." He paused. He'd kept Hailey's secrets until now, but no longer. "Sarge, I need to tell you some stuff."

Voight turned into a gas station to process what he was hearing. "Not over the phone. Stay there. Do not touch anything. I'm 10 minutes away."

"Copy."

Voight rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Not Hailey. I cannot lose another detective. What could have happened that someone would want to grab her?

Certainly, no answers would be found at this random gas station. Voight circled the pumps and pulled back into morning traffic. He alerted Trudy and the rest of the team as he drove.

Trudy gasped in shock. "What do you need me to do?"

"I'll let you know as soon as I've checked the apartment."

"Very well. What should I do with this guy Hailey brought in at 2 a.m.?"

Voight leaned on the horn as he ranted about the slow drivers. "What guy?"

Trudy flipped through some paperwork. "Name's Brad Smithson, white male, age 32."

"What's he doing there?"

"It says he contacted Hailey with information about a case, but wouldn't talk unless he was in protective custody. Also, he handed over a flash drive and some

paper files."

"Okay, get the team working on those. I'm meeting Torres at Hailey's apartment."

"She probably locked them in her desk," said Kevin when Platt delivered Voight's orders. "Do you have a master key for these desks?"

Trudy sighed. "There might be one somewhere in that room behind the front desk. However, I don't have time to root through all that crap. Just get those drawers open."

"I take it destruction of city property is authorized?" said Adam.

"Hell, yes. I don't care what you have to do. We can get another desk; we can't get another Hailey," said Trudy.

"Let me take a crack at it," said Kevin. "Anybody have a bobby pin or nail file?"

All eyes turned to Kim.

"Sure. Hang on." She found one of each in her desk drawer.

"Thanks," said Kevin as he inserted both into the lock of the main drawer. He jiggled and jiggled until finally, he was able to open the drawer.

"Bro, I don't even want to know how you learned to do that," said Adam.

"YouTube," said Kevin. "One night I came home late and realized I'd forgotten my key. Jordan and Vanessa were at a basketball game. I had to stand there in sub-freezing temps and pick my own front door. It's a wonder some patrol cop didn't arrest me."

Trudy punched his shoulder. "Nice story, Kev. See any files in there?"

"Afraid not."

Kevin managed to get two of the remaining three drawers unlocked. The bottom drawer, which was the largest, resisted his probing. He stood up and ejected the clip from his weapon. "Don't want any accidental discharges."

"You gonna shoot it for resisting arrest?' asked Adam.

Now Kim punched Adam's shoulder. "Stop goofing around. We need to find Hailey."

"We will, darlin. We'll get her back," said Adam.

"No, I'm gonna beat it into submission," responded Kevin.

Kevin stuck the lock four times with the butt of the gun before he was able to yank the drawer out. "We have a winner." On top of an old hoodie and coffee mug sat the files and flash drive.

Kim grabbed the drive while Adam and Kevin took the files. "Hailey's gonna be pissed about her desk," said Kevin.

"Good job, Kevin. Let me worry about a new desk for Detective Goldilocks," said Trudy. "I'll update Voight."

Jay and Hailey's Apartment

After surveying the scene for himself, Voight turned to Dante. "So, what did you want to tell me?"

Dante braced himself. He wondered if he would still be a part of Intelligence, or even the CPD, when Voight heard the whole story. For the next 30 minutes, he explained about the creepy e-mails and their off-book surveillance.

Voight fixed him with a hard stare. "You didn't think I needed to know about this?"

"I told Hailey to bring the team in, but she didn't want to until she had more info."

"What about the surveillance?"

"If I hadn't gone with her, she would have gone alone." Dante paused. "You know she would. She's stubborn."

Voight seemed to be weighing his confession and continued to stare.

"I was worried about her. Jay's not here to have her back, so that's my job now."

Dante felt drained, but mainly relieved that the facts were out. He waited for Voight's reaction. He'd told him the relevant facts, wisely omitting his own surveillance of Hailey and how he helped her get a tattoo. What good would revealing that do?

Instead, Voight looked around the living room and kitchen again. His eyes fell on a picture of Jay and Hailey stuck to the front of the refrigerator, right beside the calendar. He walked over and studied it. "This whole business with Jay . . . she's not thinking straight." Like Dante a few weeks earlier, Voight figured out the significance of the calendar.

He turned back to Dante. "What about Smithson? Did you know about this meeting?"

Dante shook his head. "I would have gone with her if I had."