Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Gabe

"What are you doing here?"

I stared, bewildered, at the woman who stood before me.

When I managed to get myself into a position as a member of the volunteer staff for the charity fundraising carnival, I thought the worst part would be working with the public, or possibly being recognized by our enemies.

Being approached by a familiar face was not one of my expectations.

"What?" Tansie Bell said as she looked around herself, as if searching for a reason for my question. "It wasn't hard to figure out. I first saw my son in an area where they were promoting this new Love Without Limits charity. Then I saw him again near the area where this fundraising event was taking place. Of course I suspected this charity might be involved somehow."

"No, I understand that," I said, rubbing my eyes under my glasses to try and relieve the tension headache that was growing in my skull. "But why did you come here? If the charity is connected to your son's disappearance, then coming here could be dangerous for you."

Luckily, the first-aid station where I'd been assigned was currently empty. So far, I hadn't seen anything worse than a few scraped knees, and one man who threw up due to the combination of fried food and roller coasters.

That meant that there was no one to interrupt me as I tried to convince Miss Bell to leave.

She planted her hands on her hips and stared me down. "I'm not going anywhere. If my son is here then I'm going to find him, with or without your help."

"All right. All right." I grabbed her arm before she could leave the first-aid station. "You can stay, but you have to do what I say. I don't think your son is here right now, but we may be able to find out about the people who took him."

Miss Bell nervously tugged at one of her thick braids. "Is that why you're working here? What do we need to do?"

I readjusted my glasses, taking a moment to resign myself to involving another civilian in such a dangerous situation.

"There is something you can do. I need to get into the event coordinator's office to take a look at their records, but it'll be noticeable if I leave the first-aid station unmanned. Cover things here while I get into the office."

At first Miss Bell looked eager, but once she realized what I was asking her to do, she looked around the first-aid station with trepidation. "But I'm not a nurse. I've never even taken a first-aid course."

I slipped off my glasses and stored them in a pocket of my jacket for safekeeping. "So far, there hasn't been any major injuries or anything that couldn't be solved with a band-aid or an antacid. It'll only be for a few minutes. I shouldn't be gone long."

Clenching her fists in front of her like she was preparing for a fight, Miss Bell nodded at me.

"All right. I'll do it. And getting a look at the event's records will help find my son?"

"Money always talks. Their financials will definitely help us figure out what is going on."

Once Miss Bell was settled, I left the first-aid station and headed for the offices at the back of the building. An outdoor carnival would have been preferred. Outdoor events usually had pop-up offices, which were little more than shipping containers dropped in the middle of a field and were much easier to break into. An indoor carnival meant a proper building and proper offices, with much more efficient security.

My volunteer staff shirt helped. Most people didn't give me a second look, but I ran into some trouble with the office door. The lock was surprisingly complex and took me a few minutes to force it open. It had been years since I learned how to pick a lock, and I hadn't used the skill very often. Both the Army and the FBI would usually just brute force any door open that stood in their way.

I realized I could have actually have used Frankie's help at that moment. The other man had a surprising gift for convincing locks to open for him. A talent I never would have suspected when I first met him, but fully appreciated.

The door eventually opened, and I was relieved to find there was no alarm waiting to be disarmed. However, I still couldn't afford to take my time. My position as a volunteer staff member allowed me to walk around the backrooms of the building unhindered, but I'd have no good excuse if I was caught in the manager's private office.

Along with the GPS camera pins that Newt and Frankie wore, Lily had also managed to procure us one more useful item. Computers were not one of my specialties, so I appreciated the small device that automatically copied the information of whatever computer it was plugged into.

It looked like an ordinary USB drive, and a red light started blinking when I plugged it into the office's only computer. I assumed that meant it was doing something and took a look around the rest of the office while I waited for the device to do its job.

Nothing. The office was surprisingly bare. There were a few folders stored in a filing cabinet that held time schedules for the carnival's various attractions, and a picture of a happy family sat on the desk, but otherwise, the office held nothing interesting. There wasn't even a safe or a locked drawer. Everything except for the information on the computer lay out in the open.

The device finished its job, indicated by the red light changing green. I grabbed it and left the office, relocking the door behind me with a frown on my face. It felt too easy. I should be happy that something was finally going smoothly, but after everything we'd been through so far, the lack of interference made me suspicious.

No one even stopped me in the halls as I made my way out of the back rooms and returned to the first-aid station.

Miss Bell looked up from where she was placing a band-aid on a kid's elbow. "Did you get it?"

I nodded but didn't say anything more in front of the kid or the kid's parents. They probably weren't spies, but I didn't want to involve any more civilians if I didn't have to.

Three was already too many, and Sebastian almost counted as a civilian as well.

The first-aid station had a computer, but I didn't trust it. Instead, I'd brought my own laptop, which I propped up on the first-aid station's desk and used to look through the information I'd just copied. It all looked fairly standard. A lot of money needed to change hands in order to coordinate an event of this size, and it was no surprise that Senator McLeod was heavily involved in the exchange. The numbers added up, and I couldn't see any funds being used somewhere they shouldn't.

If I presented this to the FBI, any case against the Senator would be dismissed immediately. I was sure there was a metaphorical smoking gun somewhere that implicated his crimes, but it wasn't in these files.

As I scrolled through the information again, an unexpected name caught my eye. I hadn't noticed it at first because it wasn't suspicious or dangerous in any way, but it was odd.

Why would the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries be involved in this event?

Even if Love Without Limits was a legitimate charity with no shady purposes, it should have nothing to do with a government department that handled wildlife conservation.

Before I could contemplate the odd discovery anymore, I was distracted by the sound of my phone ringing. The only people who had this number were Sebastian, Newt, and Frankie.

I picked it up immediately.

"Is something wrong?"

Sebastian immediately started shouting at me from the other end of the line. I could barely make out what he was saying, but the sound of Newt and Frankie's names were unmistakable.

"Did something happen to them? Where are they?"

Silence echoed down the line for a moment as Sebastian struggled to compose himself and speak properly.

"They're gone."

I stood up from the desk, knocking over my chair, which crashed to the ground in a noisy clatter. "What do you mean they're gone?"

"I mean, they're gone. Someone took them. I couldn't tell on the cameras, but I think they were drugged. Someone was shouting to get the event staff for help, and then the cameras cut out. I tried to track the GPS signal, but it's gone."

The laptop and the information I'd just copied were forgotten as I ran for the door.

"How long ago? Where were they last?"

Maybe if I ran fast enough, I could catch their kidnappers before they disappeared.

Sebastian directed me toward the candy-themed funhouse in the back corner of the carnival, almost as far from the first-aid station as it was possible to be.

When I got there, I found a group of people standing around talking excitedly, but no sign of Frankie or Newt.

"Excuse me. What happened here?"

Although my words were polite, there was no mistaking the demanding tone of my voice. The nearest man took one look at my staff shirt and glared at me.

"Some boys got sick. The staff already took them to the first-aid station. Shouldn't you be taking care of them there or do you people not talk to each other."

Ordinarily, I would never tolerate such an attitude, but I had more important things to worry about.

Newt and Frankie obviously weren't brought to the first-aid station. I would have seen them. So whatever staff members took them away must have been working for our enemies.

I followed the path I thought kidnappers might take. First, they probably would have gone in the direction of the first-aid station to avoid suspicion. However, they would have needed to get Newt and Frankie out of sight as soon as possible. The funhouse itself would have provided the perfect cover. It was large and bulky, with many flashing lights and colors to act as a distraction. Even carrying two unconscious bodies, it wouldn't have taken much effort to slip behind the funhouse and out of sight.

From there, the path the kidnappers would have taken may as well have been marked in neon paint for how obvious it was. A door hidden at the very back of the event space led to a cargo bay, where the building would usually receive supply trucks. It was empty at the moment, but the open cargo door and the smell of gasoline indicated that a vehicle had just left.

I was too late.

As I stood in the open doorway, something hard and cold pressed against the back of my skull. I lifted my hands slowly in a show of surrender.

I knew a gun barrel when I felt one.