Cecilia dealt with the hotel management. Fortunately, aside from Helena’s paralyzing thunderclap, the struggle hadn’t attracted any attention or guest complaints. Chad and I searched the suite thoroughly while Helena called Micah Graves.
Our search took five minutes, No sign of Ross. The TV remote lay on his bed, next to a room service menu. His phone was gone.
Helena ended her call and put down her phone as we returned. “Micah claims he doesn’t know about any of this. He did sound—surprised. I don’t know if I believe him.”
Short guy sat on the floor, rocking back and forth. Chad disappeared and came back a moment later with a towel to wrap around his bleeding knee. He stood over him, his handgun tucked into his belt, arms crossed, as if daring him to try standing up.
Everyone looked at me. Like I was an expert on interrogation or something. I sighed. “How’d you hurt your leg?”
“Someone kicked me, and I hit the corner of that table.” He glared. “You guys can’t keep me here.”
“You came in here with a gun,” Helena snapped. “And now my nephew is missing. Do you really want to call the police?”
“It wasn’t me! Daniel—I told him it was stupid, but he said nobody would listen to us without it.” He rolled his eyes. “Idiot.”
“Daniel who? What’s your name, anyway?”
He stared up at me. “Who the hell are you?”
“Tom Jurgen. Answer me.” I sounded tough. A lot tougher than I felt. It was the aftereffect of the attack.
He sighed. “Calvin Holman. Daniel is, uh, Daniel Crane. The other guy hired us. He just called himself Atlan. I never heard his last name.”
“Atlan?” That came from Cecilia. She looked at Helena.
“You know him?” I asked.
Helena frowned. “He’s . . .” She glanced at Holman. “Let him go. That’s all we need to know.”
Chad backed away. Helman stood up, unsteady, uncertain. “I can really—go?”
“Get out,” Helena ordered. “Stay away from Atlan. I hope you got paid up front.”
He didn’t answer. Just turned on his wobbly leg and staggered to the door.
I turned to Helena. “Who’s Atlan?”
She sighed and gestured toward the bar. “Chad? A little sherry. Anything for you, Tom?”
“Just some water.” My throat felt dry as my nerves eased.
“Atlan is a—a cousin.” Helena glanced at Cecilia. “He has roots on both sides, and no loyalty to either of us. I haven’t seen or heard from him in years, and he changes his face regularly. He wants to be the leader in the family, and he probably wouldn’t like to see this union go through.”
I gulped some water. “This is all kind of excessive, isn’t it? It’s basically a first date.”
She shrugged with a smile. “Family politics is sometimes the worst.”
Cecilia stood up and started pacing. “Shouldn’t we be out there looking for him?” She walked to the window and peered down, as if hoping to spot Atlan and Ross on the street 21 floors below.
Helena shook her head. “The last I heard, Atlan was in Europe. I have no idea what kind of presence he has here in Chicago. I don’t know where Tom would even start to look.”
I took out my phone. “Let me try texting Ross. His phone’s not there.”
“If Atlan has him, he won’t let him answer.” Cecilia looked annoyed with me.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
“What do you mean? You think Ross just—ran away?”
“Let’s just see.” I tapped out a simple message: Are you OK? and hit Send. “In the meantime, do you want to let Micah know about Atlan being here?”
Helena frowned. “He’ll blame us. But you’re right, we have to.” She dug her phone out of her pocket just as mine buzzed.
A text. Ross. FINE. JUST HAD TO GET OUT.
“What the—?” Helena gaped at my phone. “’Had to get out’? Why would he . . .” She looked at Cecilia, but she only stared back.
“Is there anyone in the family who can track his phone?” I stood up.
“I’ll—I’ll call his mother.” Cecilia moved to pick her phone up from the table.
“No, I will.” Helena grimaced. “She won’t be happy. I promised—anyway, Cecilia, you call Micah and tell him about Atlan. Don’t worry, that will be just as unpleasant.”
“What about him?” Cecilia looked toward me.
I glanced toward the door. “If you can find his phone, I’ll go out and look for him. If not . . .” I shrugged. “I’ve got a possible lead on Christine. I can follow that, and maybe it will lead us to Ross.”
“You think they’re together?” Cecilia’s eyes widened in disbelief. “They ran off together? Like Romeo and Juliet or something?”
They were teenagers. Anything was possible. “It’s one idea, considering they’ve both disappeared.”
“Or Atlan could have both of them!” She looked to Helena for support. “Isn’t that more likely?”
Helena frowned, as if she didn’t want to take sides between bickering children. “Maybe. Either way, we can’t do anything until we find out if we can track him.” She started scrolling through her contacts.
“I’ll text Ross about Atlan,” I suggested. “Maybe he’ll tell us if he’s heard from him.” Maybe he was sneaking texts while this Atlan guy wasn’t looking, for that matter.
“If Atlan has him, that will tip him off,” Cecilia said.
“We have to try something.” I looked at Helena. She nodded.
I thought for a moment, composing the right words in my head. Then I sent: One of the kidnappers was Atlan. Watch out for him. Send.
We waited. Helena called Ross’ mother in Boston. Cecilia went to a corner of the room to call Micah. Chad started cleaning up. I stared at my phone like a lovesick teenager waiting for his crush to call him back.
That made me think of Rachel. I sent her a quick text letting her know what was going on. Everyone looked up when my phone buzzed, but it was Rachel’s usual advice: Don’t do anything stupid, with a heart emoji. I shook my head. “Unrelated.”
Another text came right away: THIS IS ATLAN. DON’T COME AFTER ME.
Helena hung up from her call. “Ross’ mother will check his phone. What’s that?”
I showed her the message. Cecilia came over to check it out. “Oh my god! If he’s got Ross—”
“Wait. Just wait.” I held up a hand. “It’s all caps again, nothing specific. It could be Ross just trying to keep us from looking for him.”
“Or it could be Atlan wanting us to think that,” Cecilia said, exasperated with me.
“Let’s stay calm,” Helena said, annoyed at both of us. “His mother will call me back in a minute.”
We could drive ourselves crazy trying to second-guess this. I drank some water. “Yeah. Let’s wait and see what the mother’s got.”
Helena’s phone buzzed. “Yes. All right. Thank you. Yes, we’ll be in touch just as soon as I have something definite—yes. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just been—all right, yes, but—I’m sorry, I have to go.” She hung up with a sigh. “His mother is not happy. She was against this trip from the beginning, and now—”
“The location?” I asked.
“The zoo. Near the south entrance?” She ran fingers through her silvery hair. “Can you get there quickly? I don’t know the town here very well—”
The Lincoln Park Zoo. Christine’s friend lived near the zoo. I headed for the door. “It’s not too far. I can get there in 20 minutes or so. Get the picture that Micahs found, maybe that’s a meeting place.”
Helena frowned. “Why would that—”
“I’ll explain later.” I had my hand on the door.
“Cecilia, go with him.” Helena waved an arm.
Cecilia and I looked at each other, neither of us happy. Helen’s eyes darted between us, and she sighed. “Cecilia is useful. In case you run into any problems. Cecilia, be careful, watch out for Tom, and take care of Ross.”
She grimaced. “Right. Come on, Tom. I’ve got some tricks in case Atlan shows up.”
“Do you know krav maga? My girlfriend’s a master.”
She grinned. “Better. Let’s go.”
The Lincoln Park Zoo is in the center of, well, Lincoln Park, a few miles north of downtown. Not too far from our apartment. Parking was tricky, but I found a spot, and we hurried to the south entrance. There was no sign of Ross—we checked inside the Farm in the Zoo, where the cows were mooing loudly—and crossed the bridge over the South Pond and into the Zoo.
The picture from “Jack” on Christine’s phone showed an outdoor café. We made our way north, passing the camels and zebras, and found the place. No Christine. No Ross. We showed their pictures to the cashiers, who didn’t remember either one. I really hadn’t expected to find them waiting here, but it was a disappointment.
We walked through the zoo, checking out the great ape house, another café, and a pool where seals and walruses frolicked in the water and slept in the sun. Every few minutes we called Ross’s phone. According to a text from Helena, his ringtone was a hip-hop song by Lil Nas X. I didn’t know the song, but Cecilia said she’d recognize it, so she listened while I called repeatedly. Nothing.
“He could have ditched the phone,” I said, trembling as little as we emerged from the reptile house.
“He’s a teenager. He’d cut off his foot first.” She looked around the crowd, then at me. “So, scared of snakes, huh?”
I nodded. “Me and Indiana Jones. And yeah, that’s all we have in common, as my girlfriend points out every time we watch Raiders.”
Cecilia called the hotel. Frowning, she hung up. “Ross’ mom says he managed to disable the Find Me app 10 minutes ago. So he could be anywhere.” Still, she peered around, looking at the faces around us. “Anywhere but here.”
“Maybe . . .” I found a bench. “Give me a minute. Christine’s friend lives near the zoo, Ross said.” I started tapping my phone. I wished I had my laptop, but I could manage.
Jackie Vega. At least her last name wasn’t Smith. But without her mother’s last name—Ross had said Jackie’s mother was divorced—I didn’t have much to go on. “Can you have Helena call Christine’s mom about Jackie? Her mother’s divorced. If you can find out her name, it would help.”
Cecilia sighed. “Just a minute.”
I kept searching while she called. I found an Instagram account for ja_vega, full of pictures inside the Lincoln Park Zoo and on North Avenue Beach. I scrolled quickly through the pictures and found two of her—she was short, with big round eyes and curly black hair, and a tattoo of a dagger on her shoulder. I also found a view of Lincoln Park just south of the zoo, taken from a high window. Was that her home? I looked over my shoulder at the buildings across the street. We could check those later, but only as a last resort.
I skimmed her list of followers and found Christine, username cx_tina37, confirming that I had the correct Jackie Vega.
Then Cecilia poked my shoulder. “Pasdar,” she told me. “The mother’s name is Joyceann Pasdar.”
Maybe I should have started with that. In a few minutes I had an address for her, over on Clark Street, approximately where Jackie’s Instagram picture could have been taken. It was all coming together. “Let’s go.”
Ten minutes later we stood on the sidewalk outside a tall apartment building. An exercise club sat next to it. I could see people riding bikes and running on treadmills through the darkened windows. I called Pasdar’s number and got an answering machine.
I looked at Cecilia, then said, “My name is Tom Jurgen, I’m a private detective looking for Ross Beneditti, Christine Novis, and Jackie Vega. If any of you are there, please pick up.” I waited.
When no one picked up, I left my number and hung up. Cecilia looked up at the windows above us. “Now what?”
I shrugged. “We wait. A lot of this job is waiting.”
My phone buzzed with a text. GO UP. APT 932.
We looked at each other. Cecilia was suddenly nervous. “Is it a trap?”
“Could be.” I wished for my pepper spray, but it was in the car. “Let Helena know what’s going on.” I tapped a quick text to Rachel.
Inside, a doorman called the apartment, spoke briefly and quietly to whoever answered, and buzzed us in. We rode the elevator in silence.
At 932 I knocked. After a moment the door opened. It was Jackie Vega.
She was short, in a long-sleeve T-shirt and black athletic shorts, with curly black hair and big round glasses. “Hi. You looking for Christine?”
“And Ross. Are they here?”
Jackie smiled. “You just missed them.”
Damn it. “What’s going on?”
Before Jackie could answer, Cecilia pushed past her into the apartment. “Look everywhere you want,” Jackie said. “They left half an hour ago. I called them and told them to have you come up.”
“Where?” I looked around. The living room that looked out over the park. Cecilia glared at Jackie. “Where’d they go?”
“No idea.” She shrugged. “That’s sort of the plan.”
Cecilia shook her head and started opening bedroom doors. “Hey!” Jackie shouted. “That’s my room!”
I closed the door so the neighbors wouldn’t hear us. “Look, we just want to make sure they’re okay,” I told Jackie. “I picked Ross up from the airport last night, and someone tried to kidnap him. They came to his hotel today and attacked us. This isn’t a game. Did either of them mention somebody named Atlan?”
Jackie blinked. “Y-yeah. Ross said something—that’s why he wanted to go.”
Cecilia came out of the bedroom. “Not here.” She stalked toward Jackie. “Where are they?”
Jackie backed away. “Who are you, anyway? What are you doing here?”
I held up a hand to Cecilia. “Give her a minute, okay. I’m Tom Jurgen, I’m a private detective, and I’m working for Ross’ aunt to try to keep him safe. That’s Cecilia, uh—I don’t know her last name, but she works for Ross’ aunt too. Helena Snowe. Atlan is trying to kidnap Ross, and we want to keep him safe.”
Jackie looked at Cecilia, then me, then Cecilia again. “Okay. Okay. Just . . . okay.” She walked past Cecilia to a dining room table and sat down, clutching a glass of water. She drank.
“They just wanted to hang out a little.” She looked at me, as if I was the good cop. “Without everyone watching, okay? So Christine came up with this idea for her to get out of the airport, and I met her there with some clothes, and we came here and texted Ross to come meet us. The idea was we’d meet at the zoo and I’d come home and they’d just walk around, like a real date, you know? But Ross was nervous because he had to sneak out when that guy, Atman? Atlan. When he came to his hotel. So we came here to regroup, and they decided to leave. And then you called, so I called him, and he said to let you up and tell you everything so I didn’t get into trouble. That’s it.” She picked up her water again. “Can you go now?”
I looked at Cecilia. She frowned. “Hold still.” She bent toward Jackie.
Jackie stiffened. “What?”
“This’ll just take a second. It won’t hurt.” She grabbed Jackie’s shoulder with one hand and pressed her other hand against her forehead. “Hold still.”
Jackie clenched her teeth, gazing at me, but I couldn’t stop Cecilia without a struggle. I nodded as reassuringly as I could. “It’ll be all right.” I hoped.
Cecilia stood in front of her, and Jackie’s body trembled. After a moment Cecilia let her go and sat down. Jackie’s head drooped. “It’s all she knows.” Cecilia said.
“Helena said you had some tricks.” I looked at Jackie. “Are you all right?”
Her head jerked up. “What—huh? What was that? Are you—” She stared at Cecilia, no longer afraid of her. “Wow. Are you a psychic or something?”
“Or something.” She stood up. “Let’s go.”
“Wait! You don’t have to—I mean, uh, that was kind of nice.” Jackie smiled. “You were in my head, and I was in yours. Can we do that again?”
“Not a good idea.” Cecilia made an impatient gesture. “Come on.”
“Hold on a minute.” I sat down in front of Jackie. “Where would they go? What would they do? A coffee shop? A museum? A hotel?”
Her upper lip curled in disgust. “I don’t think they’re going to go have sex. They just met face to face this morning.”
“That’s not what I meant. Did they mention anything? Did you suggest a place?”
Cecilia shook her head. “I just looked. I didn’t see—”
“Oh, wait.” Jackie grinned. “She might go to the aquarium.”
“Aquarium?” Cecilia blinked. “That wasn’t in your head. What aquarium?”
“She didn’t say it today. She loves aquariums. She went all the time back home. You should look there.”
“Call her,” Cecilia said.
“She doesn’t have her phone, remember?” I said. “But we can call Ross.”
Cecilia walked over to the window, looking down. “Yeah. Do that.”
Jackie flinched. “She’ll get mad.”
“She might get kidnapped, or worse.” I pulled out my phone had handed it to her. Call.”
She looked at me, trembling. “Really?”
I nodded, trying to be reassuring “I think you should.”
Jackie nodded. “Okay—"
Then something hit me.
It wasn’t a physical force. More like a tidal wave hurling me into nowhere, spinning me around like a plane out of control, roaring in my ears and blinding me with the rush of wind against my face. Up and down were meaningless concepts—gravity was a vague memory. Time shot by—minutes or hours, I couldn’t tell. I tried to scream, but my throat stayed silent.
Then I was on the floor, gasping for breath.
This was getting ridiculous. I grunted, tested my arms, and slowly eased my body up onto my knees, looking for Cecilia. I found my phone and sat up. “What happened? Where are—"
Atlan was leaning against the wall. He was wearing his corduroy jacket and holding another Starbucks cup.
I rose unsteadily to my feet. “Where are they? What’d you do with them?”
His eyebrows rose. “I was going to ask you—where are they?”
We stood in silence for a moment. He sipped his coffee.
“You’re Atlan,” I said.
Atlan nodded slowly. “What did they tell you about me?”
I tried to think. “You’re a cousin, you don’t want Ross and Christine to get together, you want to run the family—anything else? What’s your deal with Starbucks?”
“I’m jet lagged. I came in from—” He shook his head. “Never mind. Yes, I should be in charge of this family. Have you met Micah? He’s an idiot. Helena is fine, but she doesn’t have any vision. And the kids?” He smiled. “I like them.”
I leaned against a chair. The chitchat was making me nervous. What was Atlan up to? “Where’s the other guy who was with you? Are you alone?”
“Daniel? He’s waiting in the car.” He frowned. “Is Calvin okay?”
“He’s fine. We let him go.” I hesitated. “Are you going to kill me?”
Atlan looked me up and down, as if considering the pros and cons in his mind. “I don’t think there’s any point to it right now. I could torture you.” He grinned. “Tell me where Christine is.”
“I don’t know.” That was technically true. I just hoped he believed me. I wouldn’t stand up to any serious torture. Or even mild pain, honestly. I’d make a terrible spy.
He tightened his lips. “Was she here?”
“Yes.” I straightened up, tense. “She left.”
“With the boy? Where did they go?” He glanced across the room. “Where’s Cecilia? Daniel said you came in here with her.”
“He was following us?” I tail people a lot, so usually I’m pretty good at spotting when it happens to me. This was embarrassing.
“I put him on this place. After the hotel thing. I knew about the girl here, it seemed like a long shot, but . . .” He shrugged. “Then Daniel saw you come here with Cecilia. By the time I got here, it was just you. On the floor. By yourself. Where did they go?”
Wait. My brain was starting to warm up from whatever had knocked me out. “You didn’t zap me unconscious?”
He snorted. “I don’t do ‘zaps,’ Jurgen. If I wanted you out of the way, you’d know it was me.”
“Then—” I shut up. I needed to think, and I couldn’t do that while I was waiting for Atlan to decide whether to torture me or kill me or just knock me out again.
He shook his head again, disgusted. “You’re useless, Jurgen. I hope Helena is paying you well, but whatever it is, it’s more than you deserve.” Then he smiled and lifted a hand. “I’ll leave you here. I’ll leave you with one word . . .” He pointed a finger at me. “Zap.”
Nothing happened. I waited for a fireball to burn me, or a sledgehammer to swing from nowhere and whack my head. But there was nothing. I opened my mouth—
Except I couldn’t. My lips didn’t move. My tongue was frozen. I tried to reach up to touch my face . . .
But my arm wouldn’t move.
I was paralyzed.
Atlan stepped to the door. “Don’t worry. It’ll wear off in five minutes or so. Just go home and get some rest. Tell Helena I don’t want to hurt Ross. Or Christine. But I do want them.” He waved a hand. “Good day.”
Then Atlan left, closing the door quietly behind him. And I stood there, waiting for the spell to end.
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