The King Tides (Lancaster & Daniels Book 1) Read online

  PRAISE FOR JAMES SWAIN

  “James Swain’s The King Tides is a hundred percent adrenaline rush disguised as a detective novel. Its hero, an ex-detective named Jon Lancaster, is as adept at using the latest digital sleuthing software as he is shooting a gun. The pacing is terrific, the dialogue memorable, and the characters, including a tough-as-nails female FBI agent and some truly frightening serial killers, jump off the page. You will read this book in one sitting. It’s that good.”

  —Michael Connelly, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Lancaster is a terrific new character and Swain’s writing is better than ever—together they’re smart, tough, suspenseful, and rewarding.”

  —Lee Child, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “The King Tides takes off like a rocket and doesn’t ease up until an edge-of-your-seat finale. Swain is a pro at creating memorable characters, but the duo of Jon Lancaster and Special Agent Beth Daniels might be my favorite yet—tough and confident, but utterly fresh and modern. More please!”

  —Alafair Burke, New York Times bestselling author of The Wife

  “The King Tides is crime fiction of the finest vintage—fast and furious, with memorable characters and skillful plotting. Jon Lancaster is a great protagonist, and Jim Swain is a terrific writer. Don’t miss this one.”

  —Michael Koryta, New York Times bestselling author

  “Jon Lancaster is a former Navy SEAL and a retired cop, who works rescues of abducted children and is a kick-ass private investigator. Tough as nails, Jon doesn’t take no for an answer when searching for missing kids. As a private investigator he doesn’t have to abide by the same rules of law enforcement officers, giving the perpetrators no rights. Author James Swain has created a protagonist who is real enough to be your next-door neighbor. I have read, and loved, many of Swain’s books over the years, but I think The King Tides is his best work yet. The story is action-packed, tough, and believable. I hope the Jon Lancaster adventures will become a series.”

  —Cheryl Kravetz, Murder on the Beach Bookstore, Delray Beach, Florida

  ALSO BY JAMES SWAIN

  Billy Cunningham Series

  Super Con

  Take Down

  Bad Action

  Jack Carpenter Series

  Midnight Rambler

  The Night Stalker

  The Night Monster

  The Program

  Tony Valentine Series

  Grift Sense

  Funny Money

  Sucker Bet

  Loaded Dice

  Mr. Lucky

  Deadman’s Poker

  Deadman’s Bluff

  Wild Card

  Jackpot

  Peter Warlock Series

  Dark Magic

  Shadow People

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2018 by James Swain

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781503901698 (hardcover)

  ISBN-10: 1503901696 (hardcover)

  ISBN-13: 9781503901681 (paperback)

  ISBN-10: 1503901688 (paperback)

  Cover design by Shasti O’Leary Soudant

  First edition

  For Sarah E.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1 THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY

  CHAPTER 2 SNEAKIN’ AND PEEKIN’

  CHAPTER 3 JANEY

  CHAPTER 4 SOFT SPOT

  CHAPTER 5 NIMBS

  CHAPTER 6 DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR

  CHAPTER 7 DOMINO’S DELIVERS

  CHAPTER 8 SUMMERTIME JOB

  CHAPTER 9 KING TIDES

  CHAPTER 10 THE CANADIAN

  CHAPTER 11 THE CALL

  CHAPTER 12 GEL HEAD

  CHAPTER 13 RESTRAINING ORDER

  CHAPTER 14 DARK TERRITORY

  CHAPTER 15 ONCE UPON A MATTRESS

  CHAPTER 16 PROMISED LAND

  CHAPTER 17 THE SKIN CANVAS

  CHAPTER 18 BOOTY CALL

  CHAPTER 19 BRUTE FORCE

  CHAPTER 20 CASSANDRA

  CHAPTER 21 VIDEOVAULT

  CHAPTER 22 CASSANDRA PLAYS COY!

  CHAPTER 23 FIVE DAYS IN PARIS

  CHAPTER 24 DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

  CHAPTER 25 THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY

  CHAPTER 26 DANIELS

  CHAPTER 27 SISTERS

  CHAPTER 28 SWEET SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER 29 A BIGGER MONSTER

  CHAPTER 30 CREEPIE

  CHAPTER 31 SOMALIA

  CHAPTER 32 TRUST

  CHAPTER 33 WHEELCHAIR ETIQUETTE

  CHAPTER 34 KEEP MOVING FORWARD

  CHAPTER 35 DARK JOURNEY

  CHAPTER 36 KARMA

  CHAPTER 37 REVERSE

  CHAPTER 38 BAD EYE

  CHAPTER 39 SISTRUNK

  CHAPTER 40 NEW YORK STRIP

  CHAPTER 41 DIVIDE AND CONQUER

  CHAPTER 42 THE REALITY THIEF

  CHAPTER 43 THE DEVIL YOU KNOW

  CHAPTER 44 50 OCEAN

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER 1

  THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY

  Jon Lancaster sat slumped in a chair, fighting exhaustion. Dressed like a street person, he wore ratty jeans with holes in the knees and a stained Jimmy Buffett T-shirt. He did not have an athletic appearance, and his most prominent physical feature was his stomach, which was as round as a beach ball. He also smelled like low tide.

  “No offense, Jon, but I really don’t think you’re suited for this job,” Dr. Nolan Pearl said. “You’re a little rougher than I’m used to.”

  Lancaster blinked awake. “You want me to leave?”

  “If you don’t mind. You need to go sleep it off.”

  “I’m not drunk. I’ve been up seventy-two hours straight on a job, and I hit the wall. I’ll be okay in a few minutes. Think I could bum a cup of coffee?”

  “There’s a Starbucks down the street.” Pearl rose from his desk. “I’ll show you out.”

  Lancaster remained seated. “You said you were desperate.”

  “I am. I just don’t think—”

  “That I’m right for the job? Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

  “These aren’t your normal clothes?”

  “No. They’re a disguise.”

  “No offense, but your body odor is repulsive. Is that part of your disguise too?”

  Lancaster’s eyes narrowed and his lips parted, the movements hardly noticeable. Pearl shuddered, knowing that he’d stepped over an invisible line.

  “Why don’t you sit down, and tell me what the problem is,” Lancaster said.

  “Please don’t order me around in my house,” his host said.

  “Look, I’m normally a nice guy. But I drove two and a half hours, and traffic was a bitch.”

  “I thought you were local.”

  “I was in Melbourne on a job. I’ll be heading back once we’re done.”

  Pearl suddenly looked ashamed of himself for treating his guest so rudely. He sank back into his chair and spent a moment gathering his thoughts. “Very well, here’s the situation. A group of strange men are stalk
ing my daughter, Nicki. I don’t know what they want, but I want them to go away.”

  “How many men are we talking about?”

  “Eight that I know of.”

  “That’s a big number. Any idea who they are?”

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  “Have they tried to harm your kid?”

  “Yes. Two days ago, two of them attempted to abduct Nicki at the Galleria mall. Luckily, I was there and managed to stop them. I filed a report with the police, who suggested I hire a private bodyguard until they can figure out what’s going on. I contacted several security companies, who have pitched me on their services. They claim they can keep Nicki safe, but I want more. I want these men to go away.”

  “You want someone to put the fear of God into them.”

  His host nodded vigorously. “That’s exactly what I want, and I’m willing to pay for it. I visited a local bar, hoping to find a person with the right credentials. The bartender mentioned you, and gave me your number. I did a search on Google, and saw the YouTube video of you saving that little girl from those kidnappers back when you were a policeman. It gave me hope, so I called.”

  The YouTube video that Pearl had seen was a car chase that had stretched over two counties, with speeds exceeding 120 miles per hour. A news helicopter doing a traffic report had started filming right as Lancaster had rammed the kidnappers’ vehicle into a field, jumped out of his car, and shot them both to death. The victim, a ten-year-old child with flowing blonde hair, had climbed out and run into Lancaster’s waiting arms. There were plenty of car-chase videos on YouTube, but Lancaster’s video was different. Perhaps it was his willingness to risk his life in order to save a child and the “Dirty Harry–like” aspect of shooting first. Or maybe it was the indelible image of the girl clinging to her savior well after the danger had passed. At the end of the day, it really didn’t matter. It had gone viral and made him famous.

  “Well, you called the right person,” Lancaster said.

  “How so?”

  “Security companies are licensed and bound by a strict set of rules in the state of Florida. I’m not licensed, which lets me do pretty much whatever the hell I want. I’ll get to the bottom of this, and make these characters go away.”

  “Is that a guarantee, Mr. Lancaster?”

  “Call me Jon. Yes, it’s a guarantee.”

  “How do you plan to do that?”

  “The old-fashioned way.” He lifted his T-shirt to reveal a Smith & Wesson M2.0 handgun tucked behind a silver belt buckle. He produced a Beretta subcompact from his pants pocket, then drew a Heizer two-shot from an ankle holster.

  “You’re a walking arsenal,” Pearl said.

  “Yes, I am. And they’re not for show.”

  “You mentioned you were on a job. May I inquire what it is?”

  “A cocktail waitress in Melbourne disappeared over the weekend. The police think she’s partying in Key West; her grandmother thinks it was foul play, and hired me to find her. I’ve been on the case for three days, and am convinced the girl was abducted. I was waiting for the bloodhounds to arrive when you called, so I drove down.”

  “You use bloodhounds?”

  “Sometimes. I rent them from a tracker in Lake City. It’s a long-ass drive, so rather than kill time, I decided to come see you. I’m heading back once we’re done.”

  “Do you think the girl’s alive?”

  “I’d rather not go there, Dr. Pearl.”

  His host drummed his fingers on the desk, thinking. Lancaster knew that he hadn’t made a good first impression, which was critical in his line of work. But Pearl had a bad situation on his hands, and desperate men sometimes resorted to desperate measures.

  “You’re on,” Pearl said. “Can I interest you in a cup of coffee?”

  “Now you’re talking,” he said.

  “Last week, I became aware that strange men were stalking my daughter,” Pearl said, blowing steam off his drink. “Every time our family went out, a man would appear, and start leering at her. They were everywhere. At the beach, in a restaurant, or just walking down the street, there was a guy following Nicki.”

  “How many times has this happened?” Lancaster asked.

  “Seven times. Each time, the man was different. The last time was at the Galleria mall, when two men nearly abducted her.”

  “Do these creeps ever say anything?”

  “No. But I know what they’re thinking. It’s written all over their faces.”

  “They want sex.”

  “Yes, they want sex.”

  “Can you describe them?”

  “They’re never the same. Four were white, three were Hispanic, and one was black. And their ages are different.”

  “Give me a range.”

  “Late twenties to late fifties.”

  “How old is your daughter?”

  “Nicki just turned fifteen.”

  “So none of these creeps are her age?”

  Pearl shook his head. “The situation would be understandable if my daughter’s stalkers were teenage boys. Nicki is quite pretty, and boys in her age group are attracted to her, which is normal. These men are anything but normal.”

  “You said your daughter was nearly abducted at the Galleria mall. Is there a surveillance video of what happened?”

  “There is. The police asked me to study it, and see if my wife and I could identify the two men. Would you like to see it?”

  “Please.”

  Pearl opened the laptop on his desk and turned it so they both could watch. It was in sleep mode, and he hit the “Return” button, causing the screen to blink awake. He played with the mouse, and Windows Media Player filled the screen. He clicked on the “Play” button, and a full-color surveillance video started to play.

  “Nicki is in the bottom corner of the screen,” Pearl said. “Two days ago, I picked her up from school and took her to the mall to do some shopping. While we were outside Neiman’s, I got a call from the hospital where I work, and was momentarily distracted. That’s when it happened.”

  The coffee had brought Lancaster around, and he stared at the small screen with a frightening intensity. “Your kid’s wearing the khaki dress?”

  “Yes, that’s her school uniform.”

  Neiman Marcus was a popular store, and there was heavy foot traffic by the entrance. Two middle-aged white males wearing sweatshirts and ball caps whose rims shaded their faces entered the picture. One of the pair held a metal flask in his right hand, a folded cloth in his left, while his partner pushed a wheelchair.

  “What do we have here,” Lancaster said under his breath.

  “Do you know them?” Pearl said excitedly.

  “Not personally, but I know their type. They’re pros.”

  “That’s what the police said as well.”

  The kidnappers’ intent was obvious: they planned to knock Nicki out, and wheel her away in front of unsuspecting shoppers too distracted to pay attention to something sinister taking place right beneath their noses. On the video, Pearl ends his call and sees the danger. His paternal instinct kicks in, and he bravely tries to protect his daughter. The kidnappers throw the wheelchair in his path, knocking him down before fleeing.

  “Nice job,” Lancaster said. “Have you ever seen these creeps before? Maybe their clothes reminded you of someone, or the way they ran away. Think hard.”

  Pearl dredged his memory. “Sorry. They were strangers.”

  Lancaster asked Pearl to play the video again. As it ended, Lancaster pointed at the screen. “Our kidnappers used the mango exit for their escape.”

  “Is that significant?”

  “It bolsters my theory that these guys have done this kind of thing before. The Galleria’s parking garage is color coded: plum for the restaurants, lime for Dillard’s, orange for Macy’s, and mango for Neiman Marcus. Thieves who robbed the mall over the years have used the mango exit to park their getaway cars, since it takes a minute to reach, while a typical 911 call takes s
ix minutes to respond to. Our kidnappers planned ahead. Did the police search the parking garage?”

  “They did,” Pearl said. “According to the detective handling the investigation, the officers at the scene conducted a search, and found a flask one of the kidnappers threw in a trash basket. It was filled with chloroform.”

  “You got lucky, Dr. Pearl.”

  “I know. My wife said I have an angel sitting on my shoulder. I just don’t know how long that angel will keep protecting my child.”

  The memory was painful, and Pearl spent a moment collecting himself. Lancaster placed his empty coffee mug on the desk. “Where is your daughter now?”

  “Nicki’s outside by the pool,” Pearl said.

  “Do you think that’s safe considering what happened?”

  “I think she’s very safe. I’ll show you.”

  They crossed the study to a window facing the Intracoastal, where his host parted the blinds with a finger. The waterway was an endless parade of expensive watercrafts and Jet Skis and always busy. Nicki sunbathed on a towel by the pool, beside her a black German shepherd the size of a small lion. Nicki was dark-haired and stunningly pretty, but so were many teenage girls in Fort Lauderdale. Why was she being targeted?

  “Does Nicki have a boyfriend?” Lancaster asked.

  “No,” Pearl said.

  “Have you asked her?”

  “I’ll rephrase that. Not that I’m aware of. But I’m reasonably certain that there isn’t a young man in her life. She doesn’t have time for one.”

  “How about an ex-boyfriend?”

  “Same answer. No.”

  “Does she hang out with a bad crowd at school, or run with a gang?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Does she do illegal drugs or peddle them?”

  “What are you implying? That my child’s a criminal? To answer your question, my daughter doesn’t do or sell drugs. Nor is she an assassin or a spy.”

  “You’re not helping, Dr. Pearl.”

  “I don’t see how this line of questioning is helpful.”

  “I’m trying to find a motive. Those two bastards in the mall had a good reason for trying to abduct your kid. If I can determine what they wanted, I’ll be one step closer to putting a stop to this. Make sense?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry if I sound short. This has been very hard.”