Shadow Dancer (Shadow, #1)

"Jesus Christ! Please tell me you have more information for me than this? Is Jack okay? Tristan? Please tell me you have the bastard in custody! I'll be right there. I can be there in twenty minutes..."

"No need to come in. There is nothing to do right now. We didn't get there in time to stop the perp from taking Tristan. Jack is in surgery now. It’s not fatal. The doctors think he blew out his knee cap, shattered cartilage and torn ligaments, but they are concerned about a major artery that may or may not have been affected. We won’t know anything until he is out of surgery, but I do have some other information for you."

"Wait ‘til I get my hands on Branson!"

"Who?"

"I got a call earlier today from a Dr. Branson who said security would keep an eye on her."

"Oh, that guy. He was beside himself in shock. Said nothing like this had every happened in his hospital. Seemed kind of smug. Anyhow, I wanted to let you know that Jack managed to catch a glimpse of the car's make, model and license plate number and he saw who took her. Apparently he knew the guy. We didn't get much more out of him before he went incoherent. We already put out an APB on the car, but I figured it couldn't hurt to give you the info too. You ready?"

"Yup, go," said DiNolfo as she scrambled for a pen and paper.

"Suspect's name is Bernard Kendricks. Car make and model is the Chevrolet Nova four-door sedan in golden brown metallic. License plate number is GA57065, Ohio tags. The car is registered to a Mr. Eugene Finkle in Dayton, Ohio."

Jenna’s face froze.

“You’re kidding! Okay, thank you for the information and keep me posted.” DiNolfo hung up the phone, as her mind reeled from the series of events that took place. Just when she was about to get answers, Tristan fell through her fingers. If Branson would have allowed her to question Tristan and stay with her, she was certain that this would not have happened.

How the hell did Kendricks get into the hospital unnoticed, take a patient from their bed, shoot a man, and still get away?! God help Branson if I run into him any time soon.

Next on the agenda was to get that warrant for Kendricks' apartment and his classroom. Kidnappers almost always left some sort of clue as to where they would take the victim after the snatching. She was determined to search every inch of the apartment until she found out where he had taken Tristan, and she would bring her back, no matter the cost. Then there was the name Eugene Finkle, which brought back a flood of memories. She didn’t know him from Elkhart, but from her Pittsburgh days. She wishes she could turn her thoughts off for the afternoon. Was it just a stolen vehicle, or something worse? She thought she knew the answer.

She eyed the clock on the wall and was shocked that it was nearly 8:00 P.M. The captain had already gone home for the evening. She wanted to give him an update on the case, as well as task two officers, someone, anyone other than the dipshit deputies, to obtain the warrants and search the school and Kendricks’ apartment. The phone rang and rang, and finally the answering machine picked up. A woman's voice with a Midwestern draw came over the phone, "Hi! This is Chuck and Shirley, were not here right now, but we'll surely call you back as soon as we return." The message followed a long and obnoxious beep. “Hi Cap, this is DiNolfo. Just an update. Kendricks has fled town. Witnesses saw him kidnap Tristan Morrow and shoot Jack Morrow in the leg at St. Benedict’s Hospital. Sunbury PD put out an APB on the car, an old '74 Nova. I was by Kendricks' apartment today, the door was wide open and we need a search warrant. We need one for the school too. He had his bedroom wall spackled with pictures of Catherine and Tristan Morrow. I need to put someone in task of this other than Amos or Earl.”

With their eyes no longer on their Champion Hunter magazines, both Amos and Earl eyed DiNolfo scrupulously, then looked at each other with a knowing glance. DiNolfo looked over at them itching to know what it was that they were concealing from her.

"What? Tell me now what the hell it is you are hiding from me," DiNolfo demanded of the deputies.

Earl, sitting with a smug grin, turned his eyes back to his magazine, while Amos loudly slurped his coffee before saying, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” DiNolfo eyed them venomously from her desk, before marching down to the filing room, keys and case files in hand. When she left their sight, Earl leaned over to Amos and whispered stealthily, “Meet me at the Rusty Nail.”

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