Searching

Prologue

She noticed him immediately. She had been taught.

His appearance made her pause in her stroll back to the mall. She remained approximately three feet inside the hallway that led to the restrooms near the food court at Shoreline Mall. She could watch him, but he would have a difficult time seeing her. She had been taught.

Other patrons of the mall lingered at tables in the food court or stood in lines at one of the food vendors' counters. If anyone else had noticed the man wearing a Kevlar vest and carrying the duffel bag they hadn't reacted as she had. She had been taught.

She continued watching from the hallway as the man stopped just inside the doors leading to the west parking lot of the mall. He wasn't leaving as she had hoped. He was positioning himself between the people in the food court and their quickest exit. This could all be staged. Some sort of drill or test of security response to an active shooter, but her instincts told her otherwise. Her right hand reached inside her purse as the man slowly lowered the duffel bag to the tile floor, squatted with his back to the food court, and began to unzip it. She kept the man in her peripheral vision as she glanced over to the food court and looked up, taking in the whole environment. She had been taught.

Through the glass half-wall that provided a barrier for the Mezzanine level of the mall, she could see more than a dozen shoppers strolling across her field of vision, most distracted by their cell phones or focused on their next purchasing objective. She returned her attention to the man and saw him just rising after retrieving several items from the bag. While she had hoped that the intentions of the man were not as she had suspected, she saw that he had donned a balaclava over his face before standing. This, coupled with the sight of the automatic rifle with a thirty-round magazine and the pump-action shotgun dispelled any doubts. She used her left hand to lower her sunglasses from the top of her head and put them on. She then removed her right hand from her purse and held it at her side. Patience. She had been taught.

This was real. It took only seconds, but her instincts were verified as the half-wall barrier to the Mezzanine level exploded into thousands of pea-sized particles of tempered glass when the gunshot round struck it. As glass particles rained down on startled customers in the food court, several people on the Mezzanine level screamed in pain and fell to the floor, struck either by shotgun pellets or flying glass. When the man lowered the shotgun, leaving it dangling from the strap over his shoulder, and prepared to fire the automatic rifle into the stunned crowd in the food court, she reacted. She had been taught.

Bracing her left shoulder against the wall at the opening of the hallway to the food court, she took aim from twenty feet away and fired three perfectly grouped shots below his body armor, into the man's groin area. She heard the bullet casings clinking on the tile floor after each shot but ignored them as she watched the shooter fall immediately to his knees, dropping the assault rifle to the floor. As he bent over in agonizing pain, the strap of the shotgun slid down his arm, but he ignored it. She strolled quickly over to the man and kicked the automatic rifle out of his reach. She had been taught.

Keeping her back to the food court and the security camera that she knew was there, she pulled on the strap of the shotgun until the man's arm moved enough for her to extract it completely. She slid it out of his reach as well before finally gazing into the man's eyes. She knew that all he would be able to see in the reflection of her sunglasses would be his own eyes and the pool of blood that was spreading out beneath him. While the bullets from a P380 automatic were not as large as those from a nine-millimeter, three hollow points in the area where she had aimed would almost certainly hit the Femoral artery. Her aim had been true, and the results were evident. She had been taught.

His eyes were losing focus as the life drained out of his body. She stepped away from the spreading pool of blood, placed her pistol back into her purse, and walked quickly through the glass exit doors to the parking lot. Without hesitating at the sound of rapidly approaching sirens, she located her car, slid into the driver's seat, backed out of her spot, and headed for the mall exit. She would be clear of the scene before anyone could get a description of her. She had been taught.

Chapter One

"Any instructions for the new volunteers?" asked the intake clerk.

Dr. Kathryn Frances Brandt paused to answer, "No, just take them through the typical orientation. Show them how the chip reader works and which units to use for the quarantine of specific animals."

As a volunteer herself, Katie knew that she had no authority to give instructions to any of the staff at the Humane Society shelter, but she accepted that as the weekend veterinarian her status would be viewed as superior to the rest of the staff, even the full-time employees.

Katie wheeled her beach cruiser bike out of the storage room off the shelter's lobby and steered it towards the door.

"Call me on my cell phone if any emergencies come in, Tina. Remember, Dr. Pettigrew will be covering for me in the morning."

Tina, the intake clerk for the shelter nodded and then simply waved goodbye to the back of Katie's head as the door closed behind her.

Katie removed her tortoiseshell glasses and replaced them with her sunglasses, placed her bicycle helmet over her short brown hair, and closed the strap connector under her chin before putting her backpack over her shoulders and mounting the bike. She checked the time on her cell phone, then slid it into the side pouch of the backpack and began the fifteen-minute ride home. Her appointment with the potential renters was more than an hour away, so she could make this a leisurely ride and still have time to shower before they arrived.

As she pedaled the beach cruiser towards her condo in Irvine, she was thankful once again that her brother had urged her to start riding it as an alternative to driving around on the day-to-day trips that she made. The weather in Southern California was usually quite conducive to riding a bike; neither too hot nor too cold and when there weren't dedicated trails to ride on, the streets were wide with bike lanes that took her virtually everywhere she needed to go. For those rare occasions when she needed a motor vehicle, she still had the pick-up truck sitting in her garage.

Katie unlocked the gate to her patio and rolled her bike into its customary position. She checked the time again to ensure that she had enough for a shower before her appointment and saw that she was ahead of the schedule that she had set for herself. She entered her condo through the sliding glass door from the patio and locked it once more behind her. She removed her sunglasses, unpacked her backpack, and put her riding helmet inside it before storing it in the hall closet and heading to the master bedroom.

Sitting on the end of the bed to untie her high-top tennis shoes, Katie could see her reflection in the mirror above the dresser. The bike helmet always made her short hair look sweaty and disheveled, which had never been the case when her hair was longer. Sure, her long hair might look damp and flattened against her scalp where it had been under the helmet, but it would recover quickly to the silken, wispy waves of naturally highlighted brown locks that she had always treasured. She prayed that it would be in the same condition when it finally grew back.

She tossed her shoes onto the floor of the open closet, then unbuttoned the white safari shirt that she wore untucked over the top of her khaki cargo shorts. She examined the right sleeve of the shirt to verify that the stain treatment she had applied while at the shelter had removed the small drop of blood that had landed on her while treating the kitten with the torn claw. She saw a slight trace of the blood remaining, so she set the shirt aside rather than placing it into the laundry hamper to remind her to treat it further before washing it.

Katie emptied the pockets of her cargo shorts onto the top of the dresser before unfastening them and letting them slide to the floor. Lifting her left foot out of the bundle, she used her right foot to bring the shorts up to her hand and then tossed them into the hamper.

Examining herself in the mirror once more, she began to pull the sports bra over her head. The spandex material by itself made removing the sports bra tantamount to strenuous cardio-vascular exercise, but with the sweat from her bike ride thrown in, she felt that she had entered into an Olympic event by the time she had pulled it completely over her head.

Massaging the ridges left on her lower chest, sides, and back by the material of the sports bra, Katie lamented on her fading tan lines. Her complexion had always allowed her to tan easily, but she had not had the luxury of sunbathing or even wearing a bikini outside for months. She lowered her underwear to the floor and saw the same fading tan lines above her neatly trimmed pubic hair and around her thin waist. Her face, neck, and forearms were still tanned, but there were no distinctive lines associated with this because of the variety of clothes that she wore these days when she went out in public.

She picked up her discarded panties and dropped them into the laundry hamper as she walked into the master bathroom. While waiting for the water in the shower to warm, she stood in front of the vanity and ran her fingers through her hair. She watched as her arm motions made her firm breasts rise slightly. This caused her to contemplate when the last time was that she had performed a self-examination of her breasts, so she decided to do one while she was soaped up in the shower. She stepped into the large walk-in shower and lowered her head under the refreshingly warm stream of water.

~~~

Katie's cell phone chimed to indicate a text message right at the scheduled time of her appointment.

TAYLOR: Hi, this is Taylor. My brother and I are here to see the rental property we discussed.

KATIE: Are you at the front or the driveway gate?

TAYLOR: You suggested the driveway gate, so that's where we are.

KATIE: Good. I'll send a code to open the gate for you. Follow the drive around until you see the first trash containers. Park in the visitor spots near that and I'll meet you there.

TAYLOR: Okay. Be right there.

Katie entered her access code for the gate and then walked out the sliding door to the patio, through the patio gate, and watched as a silver 2028 Mustang hybrid convertible with a young couple inside came towards her. When she saw the vehicle slowing to park where she had instructed, she waved to the female passenger and walked over to meet her guests.

The man and woman exited at the same time and met Katie at the rear of the car. The woman was just a girl, Katie thought. She appeared to be still of high school age, but the man looked to be closer to her age of 25.

"Hi. Are you Katie Brandt?" the girl asked as she extended a hand.

Katie shook the girl's hand and said, "Yes, I am. You must be Taylor Davis."

"My real name is Taylor Oglethorpe-Davis, but please call me Taylor. This is my older brother Tyler."

"Taylor and Tyler," Katie thought. "This should be interesting."

Tyler extended his hand for Katie to shake, "Tyler Oglethorpe-Davis. I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Brandt."

"It's 'Miss', and I'm pleased to meet y'all. Are you ready for the grand tour?"

"We sure are" replied Taylor. "We're excited to see the condo that we discussed on the phone."

"Then follow me," Katie said as she turned and led the couple to the walkway that led to the front of the units.

"I noticed a slight accent," Taylor said as she walked beside Katie, relegating her older brother to a position behind them. "Although nowadays, dialects are seldom as distinct as they used to be."

"I was raised in Texas, so that must be what you heard" Katie confirmed. "The available unit is this one on the left."

They all stood at the entrance to an alcove between two condo units that formed a common courtyard that was faced by the front doors of both, directly across from each other and approximately fifteen feet apart.

"There are only these two units within this building and the only common wall is the one between the garages in the back. The floorplans are mirror images of each other."

Katie entered a code into her cell phone and only paused a few seconds for the application to send the signal that unlocked the front door of the unit across from her own. She turned the knob and held the door open for Taylor and Tyler to enter before her. Once everyone was inside, she closed the door behind them.

Taylor walked through the short entryway and into the living room without hesitation. Tyler was more deliberate in his examination of the unfurnished space, opening closet doors and inspecting window placements.

"You mentioned that this unit has four bedrooms?" Taylor asked.

Katie joined her in the living room before answering, "There is a master bedroom with an ensuite through those double doors."

She pointed across the living room. "There is a half bath back there across from the stairway, two bedrooms with a Jack-and-Jill bath between them upstairs, and a room that could be used as an additional bedroom, an office, a den, or whatever else you wanted."

Tyler listened to her answer and walked silently into the master bedroom. Taylor walked into the kitchen to examine the appliances and cabinets for storage space.

"Do you like to cook?" Katie asked as she followed Taylor.

"I like to eat" Taylor giggled. "Fortunately, my lack of cooking experience hasn't been detrimental to me."

Katie smiled at the self-deprecating observation. Taylor wasn't seriously overweight, but it was obvious that she struggled to keep from being so. She dressed to flatter her abundant breasts while disguising the lack of a waist, along with her pillowy hips, thighs, and derriere. If she burned a few more calories than she consumed, Katie thought, Taylor would be in fine shape.

Katie turned to see if Tyler had finished his inspection of the master bedroom area and saw him just re-entering the living room. She could see nothing at all wrong with his physique. He certainly kept himself in far better shape than his sister. She averted her eyes from his, afraid of what they might betray. He was one very attractive man.

"Any questions about the master bedroom?" Katie asked him.

"No, it is pretty self-explanatory, though there are a few options for furniture placement that Taylor and I would need to discuss.

"Is it still your intention to share the condo?" Katie asked.

Taylor came out of the kitchen and joined her brother in the living room.

"My parents won't let me live entirely on my own yet. They don't even want me living in the dormitories at college, so Tyler has agreed to share a place with me."

"Whatever your circumstances, you sharing the unit is fine as long as you both sign the lease agreement" Katie assured them. "Do you want to see the upstairs now?"

"In a minute," Taylor said as she walked over to the sliding glass door and glanced out at the patio. "Is that a hot tub?"

Katie and Tyler walked over to stand beside her.

"Yes, that is a fully functional hot tub. It seats six adults. All the chemicals and equipment you would need to maintain it are stored in the garage. I can show you what is involved if you decide that you want the place."

Why did the thought of being in that hot tub with Tyler just flit into Katie's mind? She had no interest in thoughts like that.

Tyler turned and pointed to a door in the kitchen, "What's through that door? The garage?"

"Yes," Katie told him. "All the units have attached two-car garages. Want to see it?"

Without answering, Tyler walked over, unlocked the doorknob, and opened the door. He stepped into the garage and easily found the controls that turned on the overhead light and also operated the automatic garage door opener. He pushed the 'up-arrow' icon on the display panel and watched as the garage door slid open on its tracks before pushing the 'down-arrow' icon to return the door to its closed position.

"How many remotes are provided?" Taylor asked after Tyler had reentered the kitchen and closed the door to the garage.

Katie smiled and said, "The opener will pair with the Bluetooth in your cars or cell phones. Any other questions before we see the upstairs?"

"Just a couple," Taylor said, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"A title search on this address shows this property and the one across from it are both owned by a "Corvair Family Trust," which is some sort of holding trust out of Delaware that our family lawyers can find little information on. They also checked with a local agency and learned that up until now, all rentals in this complex have been arranged through the property management company for the complex. How do we know that you are authorized to lease this property to us?"

Katie leaned against the opposite kitchen counter and held Taylor's stare for several seconds before responding,

"The Corvair Family Trust is the only owner of multiple units within this complex, being these two in this building. All other units that are rented here are owned by absentee owners who need someone to manage them on their behalf. As a legal representative for the trust who occupies one of the units owned by the trust, the need for anyone else to manage the leasing of the other unit isn't necessary as long as I live here."

"I'm sorry, but Tyler and I come from a prominent family with several important political connections. We need to be confident that the owner or owners of any property we lease are not involved in anything illegal, unethical, or otherwise capable of bringing embarrassment to our family. I hope you can understand."

Pushing herself from the counter, Katie said, "I understand completely. If you'll follow me, I'll show you out and lock up."

Taylor took her brother's hand and squeezed it when she sensed him preparing to address Katie.

"Tell us about the owners. Please."

Katie glanced back at Taylor and said, "I don't feel obligated to share any information on the owners, especially with people that have not yet been vetted to see if they are who they claim to be. If you'll follow me, please..."

Taylor remained in the kitchen with her silent brother at her side.

"Do you know the owners, Katie? I mean are there actual people involved or just some corporate entity as the trust ownership suggests?"

Katie turned once more to answer her, "I know the owners quite well. This unit was originally purchased new by one of the family members back in the late seventies and the other unit was purchased by another family member from the original owners a few years later. To keep the ownership in the entire family, the titles were transferred to a trust where the children and their children could retain ownership through the generations without the titles having to be transferred each time. As you know, in California, every time a property title gets transferred or recorded, a new tax assessment is done. With the trust owning the property, the title never needs to change for those named in the trust to be recognized as legal owners."

"So, the trust was set up for the owners to avoid paying their fair share of property tax," said Taylor.

Katie opened the front door and stood aside to allow her guests to exit. Neither did, so she said, "No, the trust was set up to name all members of the Corvair family as owners. The property taxes are paid in full every year based on the assessed value at the time, which your property title search would have shown you. Now, please..."