The Colors of Hate - 58

“Spread out and find him,” Reid ordered while putting a hand on Kirby’s arm to keep him from leaving, too. As the police officers moved away to start searching, Reid said, “We will find him, Kirby. He’s here somewhere.”

“We don’t know that,” Kirby replied tensely.

“Yes we do. As soon as we heard them talking to him, the patrol cars moved in. There wasn’t time for them to get him out of here.”

“Then why hasn’t he said where they have him.”

“Kirby, stop! Think, damn it. If he says anything specific they’ll know what’s going on. They aren’t stupid. Just be glad they haven’t found out he’s wired.”

Releasing his grip on Kirby’s arm, Reid started toward the business office where they’d last heard Dean, talking to the women, before he was taken. While Reid interviewed the women, Kirby walked cautiously into the auditorium, his hand resting on the butt of his gun. The overhead lights were on, giving him a decent visual of the rows of seats as he walked past them. Halfway down, he stopped. There was a dark stain on the blue carpeting at the end of one row. He moved closer and saw an empty coffee mug lying on its side in front of the first seat.

But where from here? Talk to me Dean. Show me somehow. He searched the area for any sort of clue to which way the men had taken Dean. Good boy. Part way down the row was another damp spot, what looked like a partial shoe print, and at the far end of the row yet another one, the toe of the shoe, or he hoped it was the toe, pointing to the back of the auditorium.

As he searched the carpet for more prints, he called Reid to let him know what he’d found. By the time he’d hung up he saw another, barely visible, print. It was by the same door he’d used to get to the lighting booth when he’d interviewed the lighting director, while investigating Ms Westcott’s murder.

Reid joined him moments later. Kirby pointed to the door, starting toward it, only to have Reid stop him and motion for Kirby to follow him. With a frown, Kirby did.

Once they were a few yards from the door Reid whispered, “I got a call from the man monitoring the wire. We’re getting more than enough to arrest those two for intimidation.”

“But?” Kirby asked, knowing there was more.

“They’re not just talking, and from the sound of it, or the lack of sound, they must have tied and gagged Dean before they started in on him.”

Kirby’s face registered the rage he felt at Reid’s words, but he kept quiet except to say, his words barely audible, “I think they have him up there.” He pointed to the door to the lighting booth again.

Reid nodded, drawing his gun. He held it at his side as he waited for Kirby to open the door, hoping against hope it wasn’t locked. He gave a small sigh of relief when the handle turned and Kirby opened it a crack.

From above him, coming from the room at the top of the narrow flight of stairs, Kirby heard muffled voices. He signaled for Reid to wait before he began inching his way up. Every instinct made him want to race up to confront the men and stop them from doing anything more to Dean. But his common sense told him such an action might cause them to react drastically in an attempt to escape.