Gone Missing (5 page)

The policeman had been behind her when she left the store, but he'd turned left when she'd turned right. Was he still within hearing range?

People around them stopped to stare. When she shoved the man, he'd stumbled backward into a young man, who looked like a college student, leaning against the wall of a store. “Hey, man, watch it!” the student said.

The second man had sidestepped to avoid his partner's fall, and he moved in quickly to grab her elbow in a painful grip. “Let's go,” he hissed.

She jabbed her fist into his throat.

He coughed, his grip loosened. She wrenched her arm away and ran back the way she'd come.

She wove through the crowd, her breath harsh in her ears. Was the man following her? Were they both following her?

Two firm hands grabbed her shoulders and stopped her. She was about to scream again when she looked up into Officer Winchester's stern face.

“Behind me,” she said. “Two men.”

He pushed her aside firmly to head back the way she'd come. She spotted a bench a few yards away and leaped onto it, scanning the crowd. She saw the two men running toward her, their expressions changing when they spotted Officer Winchester. They stopped, but the cop had seen them. They turned and bolted.

Soon the men's dark heads were at the edge of the crowd, then they tore away at a dead run to the parking lot. She tried to keep track of them, but they ducked behind a large minivan, and then she couldn't see where they went.

The policeman was too far behind, hampered by the crowds. When he finally got to the parking lot, he looked this way and that, but appeared to have lost track of them. The two suspects were smart and didn't go tearing out of the parking lot, drawing attention to their vehicle, and the lot was full enough that they could sneak around behind cars and avoid detection.

Joslyn hopped down from the bench and fought her way through the crowd to the parking lot. Officer Winchester was standing near an exit, scanning all the cars slowly leaving this section of the lot, but the men could also have driven out the other exit.

The policeman gave her a grim look. “Sorry, miss. Looks like we lost them.”

FIVE

I
t was an unbearably sweet sight for Clay to see Joslyn outside the police station, holding out to him a paper bag with grease stains along one corner.

She smiled. “Fiona mentioned you liked bacon cheeseburgers. Is that still the case?”

“You are a dream come true.”

She laughed, then turned to his lawyer. “I bought one for you, too, Ms. Harnett.”

“Call me Jo.” The blonde lawyer smiled broadly. “And I
love
bacon cheeseburgers.”

Elisabeth Aday had come through for Joslyn and Clay. Since Elisabeth still volunteered at a local domestic abuse shelter, she knew several lawyers, and one of them had put in an urgent call to his friend Joanna Harnett in Phoenix. Joslyn had given Jo the copy of the video. Officer Winchester had apparently delivered the original video to the detective in charge of Clay's case as promised, but the lawman had been stubborn about releasing Clay even when faced with clear evidence that he was innocent. Jo had pulled strings, because Clay was finally released an hour later.

They sat on a bench outside the police station to eat their burgers. The salty bacon, melting cheese and juicy beef was exactly what he needed after the frustrating afternoon in police lockup.

None of the people he talked to would believe him. He'd spent two years in jail for being a low-level thug for that Chicago mob family, and he'd gotten a good job as a bouncer for a nightclub in the years since he'd been out, but none of that mattered to them. He felt as if he would never be able to escape his past.

All he wanted to do was to find Fiona, to apologize to her for that last fight they'd had before she left Chicago. To show her that he'd changed. To make up for all the grief he'd put her through.

“The detective will look into the accident,” Jo said around a mouthful of burger. “It wasn't on a street with many businesses, so there isn't a good chance some bank ATM camera caught it on film or anything like that.” She had a slight Southern lilt to her voice.

“I don't understand why they'd do that,” Clay said. “They tried to kill us with that bomb at Fiona's house, then they followed us, but then they arranged to have me arrested. That's like a step back.”

“We still don't know for sure that they're the ones who set the bomb,” Joslyn said. “But...I think I know why they wanted you arrested—to take you out of the picture. To separate us.”

Clay's shoulders grew rock hard. “What happened?”

“They tried to kidnap me at the mall.” She spoke quickly, as if nervous about telling him.

“What?!” And he'd been stuck in a cage, unable to protect her. What good was he if he couldn't protect people?

“It was fine, a police officer happened to be right there,” she said. “But they ran and he couldn't catch them. It was the same officer who delivered the security video of you in the shoe store to authorities.”

“That was smart of them,” Jo said reluctantly. “Separate the two of you so they could more easily grab Joslyn. Then with Clay in jail, they could afford to wait and take care of him later.”

Joslyn swallowed. “That's what I was thinking. They're probably upset you got Clay out of jail so fast.”

“They could've tried something,” Clay said, “but I wouldn't go down so easily.”

“What are you going to do now?” Jo wiped her mouth. She'd inhaled that burger.

“We still don't know where Fiona is or why she disappeared,” Clay said.

“I want to get online to do some research on Fiona and Martin Crowley,” Joslyn said, “but I can't do that if we're being followed. Those men would interrupt us before I even had a chance to log in to my computer.”

“Those creeps have to know something about Fiona. I want to set a little trap so we can find out more about them.”

“Nope, I don't want to hear this.” Jo stood. “As your lawyer, I don't want to know.”

“We won't do anything illegal,” Clay said. He'd learned his lesson years ago and was still paying for it now.

“Regardless, it's probably best if you don't tell me.” Jo smiled at the two of them. “I hope I'll see you again, but maybe somewhere other than the police station.”

“You bet.” Clay shook her hand. “Thanks a lot.”

Joslyn watched the lawyer walk away. “She was nice.”

“And effective. The police could have been stubborn and kept me locked up.”

“Not all policemen are like that.”

“It's because of what I used to do. I've never had a good relationship with cops.” And it looked as if he never would.

Joslyn leaned forward on the bench. “So what kind of trap did you want to set?”

“Where's your cell phone?”

“I left it on, like you wanted me to, but at the hotel so they wouldn't know where I was going.” She blew out a breath. “It didn't matter because they probably just followed me from the police station.”

“But since it's still on, those guys may not realize we suspect the phones are trackable.” Clay held up his own phone, which the officers had returned to him. “I want to lure them in. We'll drop the cell phones somewhere, make them think we're there, while we hide nearby. We can find out their license-plate number, maybe snap some photos.”

Joslyn narrowed her eyes at him. “Tell me you're not also hoping to capture one of them.”

Clay thought he'd be able to take them, although it would be a tough fight, but there was always the chance one of them would grab Joslyn. He didn't want to put her in danger or allow the men to use her as leverage. But he hesitated a fraction of a second too long before saying, “No.”

“Clay—”

“Really, no. It's too dangerous. But it might be dangerous to set this trap for them, even if all we're doing is getting a look at them.”

“Get me a good photo,” Joslyn said. “I have a facial-recognition program I'm working on that can scan the web to try to find them.”

“Really? I thought that was only on TV.”

“You'd be surprised what real-life hackers can do.”

He nodded and stood. “You ready?”

They tossed their trash and then got into Joslyn's rental car, although Clay got behind the wheel. “Let's get your phone and then make sure we're not being tailed,” he said. “We need to be a few minutes ahead of them.”

They went to Joslyn's hotel where they picked up her cell phone, and she gathered her things and checked out of the room, just in case. She seemed to have very few things—she'd bought new clothes at the mall today, and only had one other change of clothing. As she was looking through her stuff, she suddenly held up a small electronic device.

“Is that a...?” Clay said.

“GPS tracker.” Her skin flushed. “They went into my hotel room and pinned it under the collar of my jacket.”

“Don't ditch it yet,” Clay said. “That way the men won't know that we discovered the trackers just yet. We can get rid of all that stuff later.”

Then he spent some time driving in circles and scouting out some of the parking lots in the Phoenix area. He looked at an empty business park parking lot, but decided against it. Once their pursuers saw it, they'd know something was up because there was no reason for Clay and Joslyn to be there. If the men suspected a trap, they wouldn't fall into it.

Then he saw a rather run-down Mexican restaurant with faded yellow walls and a dark brown roof. The parking lot at Casa Rafael was only partially filled, maybe because it was still early for dinner, but it was the type of cars and the men Clay saw near the building's front doors that decided it for him. He passed the restaurant parking lot, but turned in to the lot next to it, which was attached to a paint supply store. He parked in the farthest corner of the lot.

“Why here?” Joslyn asked.

“We don't want them to see our car and know we're near. Come on.” He grabbed his cell phone. He had to plant it quickly before their pursuers got within sight of the restaurant.

They climbed over the low brick wall separating the two parking areas and walked halfway down the lot, where Clay dropped his phone on the ground. He was about to walk away when Joslyn said, “Wait.”

She pulled out one of the burner cell phones she'd bought. She dialed, then answered on her cell phone and kept the call open. She put her phone on speaker, then dimmed the screen so it wouldn't be easily seen in the darkening twilight and slid it under a car parked near where Clay had dropped his cell phone. She held up the burner phone. “We can listen in when the men get near enough.”

“That's brilliant.” He grinned.

They scurried to hide behind some cars against the back wall of the parking lot where they wouldn't be seen. Clay made sure he could see the restaurant's front door, so he could see who was coming and going. Their hiding spot smelled like mold, and faintly of urine, but it was also shadowed. Unless someone was specifically looking to find them, they wouldn't be noticed.

“What made you choose this parking lot?” Joslyn whispered.

“I didn't want anyone getting hurt by those guys. They won't try anything dangerous here.” He gestured with his head toward the restaurant. “Those big guys over there? Mexican gang members. Our friends will think twice before they cause a scene.” At least, he was reasonably sure about that. He'd worked with enough criminals to know that the two men would spot the gang members immediately.

They didn't have long to wait. A white Taurus slid slowly into the parking lot. Unfortunately, they parked on the opposite side from where Clay and Joslyn were hiding.

Clay angled himself but couldn't get a good view of their car, so he darted behind the next car parked along the wall. He saw the two men walking toward the restaurant. They eyed the Mexican gang members loitering outside warily, and received sharp looks in return, but were allowed to enter the restaurant.

Here was his chance. Clay made his way across the parking lot, darting between cars on a convoluted path so he could keep out of sight of the gang members near the restaurant, until he could get a clear shot of the men's car. Luckily, it stuck out since it was parked near a black SUV and a souped-up pickup truck. He memorized the license-plate number, then made his way back to where Joslyn was hiding. He was halfway there when one of the gang members spoke.

“Eh, Manny,
cigarrillo
?” His voice carried clearly across the parking lot.

Clay froze automatically, his heart racing. He didn't speak Spanish and wasn't certain what the gang member had said. Then he replayed the words in his head. It sounded as if maybe the guy was only asking for a cigarette, not something like, “Hey, did you see that gringo sneaking across the parking lot?”

He ducked behind the car where Joslyn was crouched. “Here's the license-plate number.” He rattled it off to her, and she nodded and repeated it as she memorized it.

Only a few minutes passed before the two men walked out of the restaurant again, their expressions dark. One of them pulled out his cell phone and began walking around the parking lot, holding it out and looking at it.

“He's finding the signal from our cell phones,” Joslyn whispered.

The other man, however, rather than walking with him, went around to the other side of the parking lot.

“What's he doing?” Joslyn whispered.

“Looks like he's searching for our car.” Clay began to regret he hadn't parked farther away than the next parking lot. If they found Joslyn's rental car, they'd know Clay and Joslyn were nearby.

Joslyn quietly crept to the edge of the car, then darted behind the next one. She held out her burner phone, which had a camera, and began snapping pictures of the man as he walked near them.

He was shorter of the two, with curly, dark hair and a scruffy face. His button-down shirt stretched over a slight paunch, and Clay could see that his dark jacket was a bit large for him. He frowned fiercely at his phone as he walked, and didn't even glance in their direction.

Joslyn sneaked back to where Clay still crouched, and nodded. “Got the photos of this guy, but the other...?”

Then the curly-haired man's voice shot from her phone speaker, and Joslyn hurried to turn down the speakerphone volume. “They're not here. They figured out we cloned their phones and dumped them.” He was near the car under which Joslyn's cell phone had been left on and holding the call. “Yeah, here's one. The other phone's around here somewhere.”

The other man called across the parking lot, “Met, what car did she drive again?”

“Silver Taurus,” Met answered. He picked up Clay's phone, then swore and threw it into some nearby bushes. “You're not going to find it.”

“Let's just get out of here, then.” The other man started toward where they had parked their car.

They needed the other guy's photo, and this was as good a chance as they might ever get. Clay glanced at the restaurant and saw that the men who'd been loitering outside had gone in. He grabbed Joslyn's phone and sneaked out from behind the car. He followed Met as he headed to the men's white Taurus, keeping low behind the cars, trying to get a better angle of the other man.

Clay ducked behind an SUV just as Met said, “Did you see that?”

“See what?” the other man said.

Clay's throat was tight, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he stood perfectly still. There was a minute or two of silence, then the sound of shoes scuffing asphalt.

“Nothing,” Met muttered. “Just get in the car, G.”

Clay peeked out from behind the SUV. He wasn't at a great angle, but he could take a few pictures of the other man, whom Met had called G. He had straight, brown hair cut short over his high forehead, intent eyes and a square jaw. Clay found himself sizing the man up like he would an opponent in a sparring match at his mixed martial arts gym back home in Illinois. The man would have a reach advantage with his long arms, and he walked with athletic confidence. But Clay would be able to use his larger-boned frame to his advantage if he took him to the mat in a wrestling or jujitsu move.