“Well, first, we solved the case. Second, he falsely arrested me. And third, he nearly got me killed when he refused to follow me into that motel room.” Connor raised one finger after another as he ticked off his reasons. “I’d say he owes us. Besides that, why wouldn’t he help us? He knows what we can do.”

  Olin reached across the table and pulled the two folders Dylan was leaning on out from underneath her.

  “Hey!”

  “We don’t want these getting damaged,” he said, looking the folders over. Then he placed them on the growing stack in front of him and turned his attention back to Connor. “I guess we can ask him.”

  Dylan huffed. “Fine. Whatever.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Connor called the downtown police precinct and asked to speak to Detective Shaw. The officer who answered told him Alex was out, and Connor left a message for the detective to call him when he returned.

  Hours passed. Together with Olin and Dylan, Connor went through all the potential suspects one more time. Even though the ringer on his phone was turned all the way up, he compulsively checked the device every ten minutes or so to make sure he had not missed a call from the detective or the kidnapper.

  Finally, the three of them admitted to each other there was nothing else they could do for now and headed home.

  “There’s always tomorrow,” Dylan said, locking the door to their suite. “We’ll figure this out.”

  Connor wanted to believe that was true. They had solved a lot of cases, but rarely had they been in a situation like this—where all they could do was wait. Over the last couple of days, though, it seemed to be happening a lot. When Connor found the note taped to his door, they had been stuck until the kidnapper called. Now they were stuck until the detective or the kidnapper called back.

  However, as it turned out, they would not have to wait until tomorrow to move the case one step closer toward a resolution.

  Connor was halfway between the office and his apartment when his phone rang. The Caller ID revealed only a phone number. Connor braced himself for the possibility that it was as likely the kidnapper as it was Alex (and, he had to admit, just as likely to be a telemarketer).

  He pressed the button to answer, and the call was routed through his car’s speakers.

  “What can I do for you, Connor?”

  Connor recognized Alex’s voice right away and breathed a small sigh of relief. He wasn’t ready to speak to the kidnapper again yet. If possible, he needed to level the playing field first. And that meant finding out who he was up against.

  “Can we meet? I have something I need to talk to you about.”

  “What’s going on?”

  There was an edge to Alex’s voice, Connor realized. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Connor had not spoken to him since the Thompson case had been solved, so Alex had every reason to be concerned. After all, people don’t call cops out of the blue simply to ask how they’re doing.

  “It would be better if we spoke in person,” Connor said.

  “All right. When?”

  “Are you free now?”

  “Yes, I am. I’m down at the station. I’ll wait.”

  Connor pulled up to a traffic light, looked around, and quickly considered his options. He wasn’t going to the police station if he could help it. There wasn’t a lot of privacy there, and he didn’t need other cops listening in on their conversation. “Actually, there’s a bar in Midtown called Smith’s.”

  “I know it.”

  “Can we meet there?”

  Alex seemed to hesitate for a moment, then said, “Sure, I guess that’s fine, too. I can be there in twenty minutes.”

  When Connor arrived at Smith’s Bar, he could hear a rockabilly hit he vaguely remembered coming from inside before he even opened the door. It was exactly why he didn’t like the place. The music was too loud for his taste. But, tonight, that was also what made it a good spot to meet. After all, Connor didn’t want some stranger eavesdropping on their conversation any more than he wanted a police officer doing it, and there was no way somebody would be able to overhear their conversation in there. Connor was pretty sure he and the detective would barely be able to hear each other.

  Connor stepped inside. The bar was dimly lit and looked exactly like it had the last time he was here. Neon beer signs littered the windows and walls. A pair of unused pool tables occupied an outsized percentage of the floor space near the back. Aging and chipped tables occupied the rest.

  He found a booth that gave him a view of the door and watched it until Alex stepped inside. The detective was wearing a blue suit, a wrinkled dress shirt, and a tie that hung loose around his neck. He needed a shave and, even from here, Connor could see bags under his eyes. All of which was to say, Alex looked exactly like he had the last time Connor had seen him.

  Connor waved to get his attention. Alex came over and took a seat on the opposite side of the booth. There were no drinks on the table and no server to bring them. If they wanted a beverage, alcoholic or not, they would have to go to the bar. Connor chalked that up as another benefit to this place since it meant not only was there no way for them to be overheard but there was also no one to interrupt them.

  “What did you want to see me about?” Alex asked over the music.

  “A friend’s son was kidnapped from the aquarium today.”

  “Oh, hell. How long ago?”

  “It happened at lunch.”

  “And you waited until now to report it?”

  “The boy’s teacher called the police as soon as she realized what had happened.”

  “Then you must have a detective assigned to the case.”

  “Yes.”

  A heavyset man with a long, matted beard in a Rolling Stones tee-shirt walked past their booth and headed to the restroom. Alex watched him until he was out of sight, then said, “Not to be rude, but why am I here, then?”

  “I don’t think the detective likes me very much,” Connor said.

  “Color me shocked.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I am, too. You should have let us handle the missing Thompson woman. The way you go around sticking your nose in other people’s business, I’m surprised more people don’t dislike you.”

  Connor pulled his PI license out of his wallet and flashed it at the detective. “I’m not just a concerned friend. The woman is my receptionist.”

  Alex’s eyes widened ever so slightly with surprise. Although many people knew about Connor’s involvement in the Chris Miller case, apparently he did not. In a subtle display of respect, the detective nodded at Connor. “Glad to see you’ve made it official. Still, why am I here?”

  “I need some information.”

  “Ask the detective working your case.”

  “Like I told you—”

  “He doesn’t like you,” Alex interrupted.

  “Right. So he’s not very forthcoming.”

  Alex shrugged.

  “You can’t sit by and expect me to do nothing.”

  “What’s his name? The detective?”

  “Stewart Pierce.”

  Alex frowned. “If it makes you feel any better, he’s that way with everyone. Likes to keep his cards close to his chest.”

  “Yeah, well, the case isn’t as cut and dried as he thinks it is.” Connor removed the note from his jacket pocket. He unfolded it, read it once more, and, after a brief pause, slid it across the table.

  Alex picked up the note and read it.

  Connor waited until he was done before he said, “That was taped to my door last night when I got home.”

  “You think it’s related?”

  Connor told Alex about the kidnapper’s call and the direct reference the man had made to the note. “So, yeah, I think it’s related.”

  “Are you saying this has something to do with you?” Alex asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with one of the cases we worked on. That’s why I wanted to meet.”

  “Have you told Detective Pierce about this yet?”

  Connor shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “You’re going to have to tell him about this. If you don’t, I will. This is his case, and the longer you wait, the worse it’s going to be.” Alex paused, then looked at the note once more. “You know, this is exactly the kind of thing that got you in trouble before.”

  Connor thought back to the Thompson case and the cell phone he had not handed over.

  Alex watched the guy with the long beard walk past their table in the opposite direction before he spoke again. “It’s withholding evidence. You must know that. And PI or not, if you keep this from him for much longer, he’s going to charge you.”

  “I promise I’ll tell him.”

  “When?”

  “As soon as you tell me what I want to know.”

  “This isn’t a negotiation.”

  Connor looked around to make sure no one was nearby. Then he leaned in and gestured for Alex to do the same. “I know about the room key.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You took it out of my wallet after you arrested me. I know, because it was gone once I got my things back. You weren’t supposed to do that, were you?” The question was rhetorical. He already knew the answer.

  Alex leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared at Connor for a long time. “What do you want?”

  “I want to know if anybody we put away has escaped or is out on bail.”

  Alex frowned.

  “I promise, once you get back to me, I’ll tell Pierce everything. I just want to make sure I don’t get left in the dark.”

  Alex still did not seem satisfied.

  “You have to admit, we have a pretty good track record.”

  “Who is this ‘we’ you keep talking about, anyway?”

  “Olin and Dylan. We’re in business together. Do you remember them?”

  “The jock and the thief. Yeah, I remember them.”

  “Dylan’s not a thief. She’s just damn good at picking locks.”

  Alex shrugged as if to suggest one implied the other. Then he folded the note up—“I’m keeping this”—and placed it in his own jacket pocket. “I’ll find out what you want to know. But I’m giving this note to Pierce.”

  “Do what you have to do.” Connor passed another piece of paper to Alex. This one contained the list of names he wanted Alex to research. “Just get me what I want to know.”

  Alex sighed, stood up, and turned toward the exit. “Don’t pull this shit again!”

  CHAPTER 15

  Connor parked in the lot attached to his apartment building and followed the path into the lobby. At the same time he stepped through one door, Rebecca Strauss stepped through another. Once again, she had the Pomeranian at her side. Now, though, instead of the inside-out sweatshirt and black leggings she had been wearing earlier, she was dressed in a tight pair of jeans and a white sweater that clearly weren’t meant for, as she had put it, “laundry day.”

  They both stopped. The look on her face suggested she was as surprised to see Connor as he was to see her.

  “How about that?” she finally said. “Twice in one day.” She smiled. “It must be a sign.”

  After the day he’d had, Connor would not have thought he was in any mood to smile. Yet, he did. Although it must not have been as bright as hers, since the next thing she said was, “Hard day?”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  Rebecca bit her lip, looked down at her dog, then back at Connor. “You know, I just finished making some spaghetti. It’s too much for me. If you’re looking for someone to talk to, you can join me.”

  Connor hesitated. The only thing he wanted to do was go to bed, to put this day behind him. He hated the idea of Lucy sitting at home with her mom, both of them worried about Jerry and unable to do anything about it. He hated that he had kept the note and the truth of the kidnapper’s phone call from her. He hated that all he could do was wait for Alex or the kidnapper to call back.

  But that was where he was, and whether he went straight to bed or joined Rebecca for dinner, none of it was going to change.

  Maybe the company would do me some good, he thought. A small slice of normalcy certainly couldn’t hurt. Besides, if he turned down this invitation, would he ever get another one? If he rejected her offer, would she even consider one from him?

  Connor had been working up the nerve to ask Rebecca out for a long time. Tonight might not be the perfect evening for an impromptu date, but you don’t always get the opportunities you want at the times you want them. Sometimes, you just have to grab hold of them when they come your way and hope for the best.

  He would not, however, go into the details of the abduction. That wasn’t something Rebecca needed to hear about. He would keep it light, he told himself. Bad day at the office. That sort of thing happened to everyone.

  And he managed to follow through on that plan, avoiding the specific nature of the work he did in the process . . . at least until she caught a glimpse of the gun he was carrying underneath his jacket.

  CHAPTER 16

  Before Rebecca saw the gun, the evening was going exactly as Connor might have imagined. She told him she liked to be outdoors, and that she enjoyed hiking in particular. Almost every weekend, she said, she was up in the North Georgia mountains with her dog, Chloe, on one trail or another.

  If Connor had been a little smoother (and wasn’t distracted by the horrible things going on in his life), he might have told her it showed. Instead, he asked, “That little thing can keep up with you on a hike?”

  “Sometimes,” Rebecca said, smiling again. (Or perhaps, Connor thought, “still smiling,” since she hadn’t really stopped since he had agreed to dinner.) “I bring a backpack with me. When she gets tired, I carry her. It works out for both of us.”

  Connor dutifully smiled at Chloe, who had taken a spot underneath the table where she could keep an eye out for crumbs.

  Although their apartments had an identical layout, Rebecca had decorated hers with the eye of a designer.

  They were sitting at a small table in the dining room with a white tablecloth draped across it and a mismatched assortment of dishes that somehow looked like they were part of the same set.

  As interesting as all that was, none of it came as a surprise to Connor. It might have even been the life he would have scripted for her if he had been the one in charge of writing it.

  What did come as a surprise was that she was also an inventor of sorts. In college, she told him, she had participated in various robotics competitions and still tinkered with one idea or another. Her apartment was outfitted with half a dozen of her creations. She had made a motion-activated sensor that would turn on the lamps when she entered the living room, a similar device that would open or close the blinds, and an automatic dog food dispenser that would refill Chloe’s food bowl whenever it was empty.

  “But my favorite thing I ever made had to be in high school.”

  “What was that?”

  “I shouldn’t tell you,” she said, laughing.

  “Oh, come on.”

  “All right, all right.” She pulled herself together. “So I had this test coming up. Something about the American Revolution, if I remember right. I hadn’t studied. I knew I was going to fail. So I made this little gadget. It was kind of like a remote-activated smoke bomb. I hid it behind a plant in the cafeteria. Anyway, the teacher passed out the test, and once I got a look at the questions, I triggered the device, which set off the smoke detectors. Everyone was ushered outside for probably fifteen or twenty minutes while they cleared the building. By the time we got back into class, it was too late to take the test, so the teacher postponed it to the next day. And, because I got a look at the questions, I knew exactly what I needed to study to make sure I passed.”

  “That’s pretty sneaky,” Connor said, also amused. “You got an A, I take it?”

  “I got a C, but I passed.”

  “Why didn’t you try to do more with any of your ideas?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Get a patent. Start a business.”

  Rebecca shrugged. “It’s just a hobby. Doing something like that would take all the joy out of it. I’m happy with my job at Georgia Tech.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I work in the mechanical engineering department. Research, mostly.”

  Then Connor shifted in his seat, and her smile fell away. She slowly finished chewing, placed the fork on her plate, and slid her chair back from the table.

  Connor wasn’t sure what was going on until she pointed at his chest and said, “What’s that?”

  Rebecca must have caught a glimpse of the Glock underneath his jacket, Connor realized. At the same time, he also figured out she had slid the chair back from the table so she could make a run for the door if she needed to.

  “All right, look,” Connor said. “I may have fudged a little bit when I said I worked with computers.”

  Rebecca slid her chair back another inch as she started to stand.

  Connor held out his hands. “Hold on. I do work with computers. I’m a private investigator.” He reached a hand around toward his back pocket.

  “What are you doing?”

  He froze. “I’m just getting my wallet. I’m going to show you my PI license.”

  After a moment, Rebecca nodded for him to continue.

  Slower now, he pulled out his wallet, opened it. The license was in a pocket with a clear plastic window so that it was easy to show when he needed to. He held the wallet up so that it was directly in Rebecca’s line of sight.

  She slowly sat back down. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  Connor put his wallet away. He shrugged. “It seemed like a lot for a first date.” Then he cursed himself for referring to this meal as a date. He had no idea if that was in fact what Rebecca’s intention had been when she’d invited him up.

  But he couldn’t have been entirely wrong because her smile was back. She sat back down and pulled her chair back in to the table. “How did you become a PI?”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23