Unfortunately, Tim didn’t think he could recognize the person who’d kidnapped him. The boy thought he might be able to recognize the voice, but the man had only spoken two or three times, and the first time he’d disguised his voice to sound like a woman’s.

  One of the Bureau techs had been assigned the task of altering a photo of Glover, adding makeup and putting him in drag, but that wouldn’t be enough to stand up in court, Lee knew, even if Tim identified him as the man.

  Stolen vans were moved up on the hot sheet, and a forensics team was on the way to make a quick search of the fallout shelter. They’d have to walk up a trail Diane had found on the north side of the compound that led down to a road connected to the development. The crime team would be looking for any trace evidence that might lead to a suspect.

  The officers and techs would be required to pull out before dawn, covering their tracks under the direction of people Lee and Diane trusted. Then the site would be placed under surveillance and inquiries would be made concerning the legal owners of the property, and who might have been given permission to use it. If anyone but Glover showed up at the old fallout shelter to check on Tim Klein, they’d be apprehended.

  Since Glover was still the most likely suspect, they wanted to handle him according to plan. Solid physical evidence was needed, and unless the forensics people came up with Glover’s fingerprints or DNA at the place where the boy had been held, there was no reason to launch a preemptive strike. Lee and Diane were banking on catching Glover in the act of committing a crime, but keeping an eye on him was vital if they were going to succeed.

  There was no way of predicting what Glover would do once he found out Tim Klein had vanished and he’d lost his “merchandise.” The only thing they knew for sure was that Glover was going to be more dangerous now than ever before.

  Around 3:00 A.M. they arrived at Quail Run and Lee drove slowly up the road toward their house. “The Jeep’s still in Tijeras?”

  Diane checked. “Yes, and I don’t see any rubble or glowing embers ahead, so he didn’t try to burn us out—yet.”

  “His red pickup is repaired and in his driveway. That explains the location of the Jeep. We were worried about nothing … or maybe Glover is playing again.”

  “Assuming he knew about the tracking device we stuck on the Jeep. And why should he have cared to check it again, knowing his pickup was coming back? That’s what he’s going to examine for bugs from now on.”

  Lee pulled up behind the SUV, parked in their own driveway. The lights were off at Glover’s home. Although he was invisible to mortal eyes, Lee could see him standing in the dark, watching them. “We’re in the spotlight. Guess Glover isn’t getting much rest.”

  “Neither are we. But we can’t be complacent. We need to check for booby traps, unscrewed gas connections, bugs, and other little goodies. We’ve been gone a long time, and he’s full of surprises,” Diane said.

  “Right. We already know what kind of guy he really is. Remind me to check on the motion detector, too, in case he went out the back way.” They climbed out of the pickup, moved around to the driver’s side of the SUV so they’d be blocked somewhat by the vehicle, and Lee took a look at the tires, then the door lock of the utility vehicle.

  “No sign the lock was picked, but he could have used a slim jim or some other method to get inside the vehicle. We check the ignition and look underneath before driving it again, okay?”

  Diane nodded, then walked up onto the porch, not really turning her back completely. Lee followed.

  He quickly examined the door for signs of forced entry. As he put the key in the deadbolt, he noticed a faint scratch on the mechanism.

  “Good skills, picking the lock, Glover. But you left a mark,” Lee whispered, “and you gave yourself away a second time because you had to leave the deadbolt unlocked when you left.” Lee then checked the knob. It had been relocked by Glover when he left, so Lee had to use a key. “Glover’s good enough to pick a good-quality deadbolt, and smart enough to have locked the doorknob mechanism when he left to play with our minds and confuse the issue.”

  “Yeah, so we wouldn’t worry, thinking that, after all, the door was locked when we came back.” Diane brought out her flashlight and looked for trip wires or electrical contacts along the door and trim. “No bomb triggers evident. But they could be inside.”

  “Don’t hit the light switch until I look around. We don’t want to set off an incendiary device. With fires so lethal in these types of homes …”

  “I’ll use the flashlight. Take it slow, Lee.”

  Lee looked around carefully before taking more than the first two steps. Nothing seemed out of place, so he moved farther into the room. Through a gap in the drapes, Lee could see Glover standing there, watching. The man wasn’t using any special viewer, so he couldn’t really see them at all in the dark, so what was he expecting, or was he just nervous, waiting for something to happen?

  Diane got down on her knees, sweeping the likely areas for a bomb or other booby trap, and searching for trip wires using the flashlight. It was a good idea, Lee concluded, because Glover couldn’t determine her location without seeing the flashlight beam.

  “You moved the video recorder, Lee. Think he found it?”

  “Probably, if he took the time. For a while, though, he’d have been distracted by the guy who brought his pickup back. I’ll check our little warning system.” Lee had left a paper match on the floor below the wall duct where he’d relocated the recording unit, thinking that Glover might think it had fallen out and needed to be put back into place somewhere. Or he might have been tempted to pick it up, but then conclude it was a trick and set it back down.

  Lee had placed the match in a particular position, trying to psych out the intruder, and could now tell that it had been moved. If Glover had been thinking at the right level, all he would have had to do was leave it alone. A burglar, who usually trashed a place, wouldn’t have noticed or cared about putting things back because he was there for the loot. Game theory among black bag specialists was tricky.

  “He found it?”

  “Yeah. Let’s hope he didn’t find the second unit.”

  Diane directed the light at the base of the big floor lamp in the corner. The lamp didn’t work … the power cord supplied a small infrared video camera in the base they’d installed earlier that evening. The camera had a wide-angle lens that covered nearly the entire room and was activated by a motion sensor. It was a special bonus they’d picked up earlier from the Bureau techs along with the “stone” motion detector.

  Lee and Diane, working together, lifted up the lamp and removed the camera. “It’s been running since we came in, so we’ll have to go back to the beginning and see what else we’ve got, if anything,” Diane announced, examining the camera.

  They sat together on the floor in the dark and reviewed the video on the tiny LCD display. “It’s Glover, and he’s moving real carefully. Afraid we’ve set a trap for him?” Diane suggested.

  The man had a small penlight, but the beam wasn’t enough to impair the effectiveness of their camera. They watched as he came through the front door, searched the living room side of the multipurpose space, first pulling out the drawer where the recording system had been before, then quickly using the small light to find where Lee had relocated it in the heating duct.

  Glover was wearing a jacket with big pockets. He brought out a Leatherman-type tool, selected a screwdriver, then unfastened the duct. Removing the camera, he took out the CD and replaced it with another one from his pocket. Then he put the system back into the duct, positioned the camera, and replaced the vent cover.

  Glover looked down and noticed the paper match, picked it up, and held it up to the duct. “Trying to figure where it fell from,” Lee said. Glover cursed, then sat it back on the carpet.

  He moved outside again, returning in a few seconds carrying a gym bag, the same one he’d carried the other night. Then he disappeared around the counter into the kitchen, out of view from the camera. There was the sound of metal or glass, the closing of doors and the clanking of tools, and five minutes later Glover came back into view. The man took a quick look around, then left out the front door, setting the knob to lock when it closed behind him. A few minutes later, the camera, no longer registering motion, shut off. It came back on, showing Lee and Diane entering the front door.

  Diane switched it off. “What did he do in the kitchen, or utility room? It sounded like he was opening and closing things and fiddling with tools.”

  “Opening and closing cupboards? No big deal there. But beyond are the hot water heater and the furnace.”

  “The furnace is shut off for the season, right?”

  “Yeah, and no off-season pilot light because it uses one of those electronic deals. We can rule out the stove because it’s electric. Same with the refrigerator.”

  “So what was he messing with? The electrical panel? The hot water heater?”

  “I’ll go check. You should go outside, find some cover, and wait until I’m sure it’s safe. Glover may have set a booby trap and there’s no reason to endanger both of us.”

  “Four eyes are better than two. If it turns out I can’t be of any help, then I’ll leave. Not before then.”

  “We’re not turning on the lights yet and you can’t see in the dark.”

  “Wake up! I’ve got my flashlight,” Diane argued. “But you can lead the way, macho man, because you have both hands free.”

  Lee in front, they crossed the living room area and stepped through the opening between counters into the narrow kitchen area. Everything looked undisturbed. “I smell something burning.”

  “Yeah. And maybe something else, like cleaning fluid or kerosene. But I can’t see any flames or smoke.”

  “Turn out the flashlight for a moment.”

  They waited for a while, looking from a distance toward the small utility area, and finally Lee spoke. “It might be a candle. See that flicker of light on the chrome trim of the washer?”

  “Yeah. It’s coming from some place out of our field of view, though. And what is that line over by the back door?”

  “Yeah, it comes and goes.” Lee took a step forward and stared. “Maybe a string or wire? Use the flashlight if it helps.”

  Diane aimed the beam, focusing it to a fine point again. “It’s like fishing line, Lee. And look, it’s tied to a screw eye in the wall on the other side of the door. It’s a trip wire.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Lee stepped closer, leaning around the corner without actually stepping into the room. “Take a look, but step lightly.”

  Diane came up beside him and aimed the flashlight over beside the door. A small, lit, votive-type candle was on the floor beside the gym bag and a large can of shortening, which appeared to be the brand they used. It had obviously been taken from their cupboard. Atop the container was an unopened can of soup. Balanced gingerly atop the soup can was a sealed mason jar half-filled with an amber liquid. The bottle had the other end of the fishing line duct taped around it.

  “If we’d have come in the back and bumped the line, the bottle would have fallen to the floor and broken beside the candle. There must be kerosene or other flammable in the bottle.”

  “There’s something in the gym bag, too.”

  “Can you blow out the candle, Lee? I’m smelling fumes.”

  Lee reached over and tapped the flame with his finger. It went out. Next, he picked up the jar, holding it tight while he pulled off the tape and fishing line.

  “I’m going to check out the bag.” Diane used her flashlight and opened the zipper a few inches. “There’s something loose in the bottom. Black, like …”

  “Gunpowder. I smell it now,” Lee said. “Better zip it back up again. We should get the bag and that bottle outside.”

  Lee, holding the bottle, opened the door with his free hand and stepped outside. He paused, making sure Glover hadn’t circled around while they were inside and was now in an ambush position, then walked over to the far corner of the fence and opened the bottle top. “Camp stove fuel?” he muttered, then set it down.

  Diane came out with the gym bag, and, with Lee watching, opened the bag completely. The bottom was filled several inches deep with black gunpowder, the kind used in earlier-era weapons and fireworks. “It looks like a commercial product. We can have this traced back and identified—to some degree. And if Glover bought it legally, there will be a record. We know he was in a gun shop recently.”

  Lee nodded. “At least we know why he’s watching the house so closely. The initial fire would have set off the black powder and we could have been killed, or at least badly burned. He was counting on us coming in the back door, or maybe going out back later with the lights out, not spotting the trip wire or candle before it was too late.”

  “Maybe we can take advantage of our luck. I’ve got an expensive idea, Lee. This house is insured, right?”

  “Ah, I thought about that, too. But if we blow this place up and hide, making Glover think we’re dead, what’s going to happen when they don’t find any bodies? Glover will discover we’re not really dead, with his connections, and then he’ll lie low, maybe even disappearing and never going back to the fallout shelter and further incriminating himself. There’s bound to be an investigation no matter what. The county has a fire marshal, and if anyone discovers gunpowder residue, questions will be asked, especially about our next-door neighbor. He’s hated and feared, but somebody is likely to make an anonymous call hoping he’ll get nailed.”

  “Yeah, well then, I guess I’ll have to keep wearing tacky clothes a little longer. We don’t want Glover to put his dirty little plans on hold just for us,” Diane said, “and I sure want to nail him for kidnapping. But we should have the bag checked for prints and the gunpowder traced.”

  “I’ll put the gunpowder back inside for now, in a sealed container. You want me to pour out the liquid?”

  She shook her head. “No sense in contaminating the soil. I think I saw a fuel container around here somewhere, left over by a previous tenant. There’s only about a quart there. We can get rid of it later.”

  Before long, they were back inside, turning on a light in the kitchen so they could have a snack. Glover had obviously deduced they’d seen and dealt with his bomb. At least he was no longer looking out the window.

  Lee checked and found that Glover hadn’t tried to slip away out the back. The motion detector was still in place and operating normally, unless he’d somehow avoided passing within range of the device, which, according to Diane, was sensitive out to fifty yards. For that, Glover would have had to leave via the front.

  He turned to Diane, who was eating a toasted cheese sandwich. “Glover has to have a stash at his place we haven’t found yet where he keeps his weapons and deadly toys—and the keys to the fallout shelter and the mask he wore around Tim Klein. There’s probably another hiding place he can access without signing in as he would with a safety deposit box, a place he uses to hide his blackmail material—photos, whatever.”

  “We didn’t have the time to do a really careful search, Lee. But my guess is that the blackmail material probably isn’t at his home. If it was, it could be lost in a fire set by a desperate victim. Same with his vehicles, which could be stolen. The stash has to be in a protected spot, a structure, hole, or cave not linked to him, that he can access any time, day or night—like the place he kept the boy. As for the gunpowder, instead of buying it from the gun shop, maybe he’s gotten it from visitors we haven’t known about who came in the front, maybe one of those deputies? A lot of them are into recreational shooting, muzzle loaders and such. Even paying with cash, buying a lot of gunpowder legally requires some record keeping by the proprietor.”

  “So let’s look for the hiding places. I’m going to do a search, using the laptop, and see if I can find any structures in the area within a decent walking distance of here that we haven’t seen or don’t know about. Maybe a place with a cellar that is safe enough from burglars, vandals, or curious kids.”

  “Or another Cold War fallout shelter.” Diane yawned. “And now that I’m not worried about the boy anymore, maybe I’ll be able to get some sleep. I don’t have your stamina.” She looked at her watch. “You might want to check in with whoever’s still got Sully, and whatever else we can get on that Katie girl. Wake me up if I sleep past six.”

  Lee worked for a while, wandered to the refrigerator, then gazed wistfully inside, wishing he had some calves’ blood to sip. Blood wasn’t required by real vampires, but it was especially nutritious, which probably brought on some of the fictional stories that persisted. Those vampire bats, which actually fed on the blood of living animals, didn’t help the notion, either.

  Lee settled on a Coke, and logged onto the websites of the morning Albuquerque newspaper and the three major local TV stations. All still carried discouraging news about the abandoned search for the missing boy, but it was no longer their lead story.

  His and Diane’s recovery of the victim was going to be kept secret and the parents had agreed to remain in protective custody, hiding from the press, media, and even their own relatives. SAC Logan had made the arrangements himself. The cover story was that the family had gone into seclusion—true enough. Cooperation was vital now if they were going to catch the kidnapper—presumably Glover.

  Lee called the cell phone number of the person who was supposed to be watching Sully. The man, a retired APD detective named Bill Sullivan, answered with a sleepy voice.

  “This is Officer Hawk. Good morning. What’s the latest on our subject?”

  “Officer Hawk. Good to talk to anyone. It’s been quiet out here, except for about a half hour ago.”

  “Except? What happened, Bill?”

  “Thought he was leaving, but all Sully did was drive down to his mailbox and pick up his newspaper.”

  “But he went back home, right?”

  “That’s correct. Otherwise, I’d have been calling you,” Bill added.