Gone The Next (14 page)

“Yeah, okay,” she said. “Nothing back here either. I figured it would leave a burn mark or a pair of red welts or something.”

I realized that I wasn’t making a move to pull my shirt back on. And Mia’s hand was still on my back. She slid it around on my skin for a bit, as if feeling for a lump or a bump. It felt warm and smooth and believe me when I say I could imagine it running over other parts of my anatomy.

“You have goose bumps,” she said, almost in a whisper.

I still didn’t move. Her hand didn’t either.

“What man wouldn’t?” I said.

Something was happening. I wondered if we were about to cross a self-imposed boundary I’m pretty sure we both have considered crossing at some point. Or was I imagining it? Mia was the type to express concern by touching you.

Regardless, she pulled her hand away, and the moment — if there was one — was broken.

“I need a donut,” she said.

“So where had he taken you?”

I was on one end of the couch now. Mia was on the other end, sitting cross-legged, facing me. She was eating a donut, as promised, which included occasionally licking her fingers. I could charge admission for that show.

“Out 290, past Nutty Brown Road. A new neighborhood off to the left. No homes yet.”

“Why there?”

“Good a place as any.”

“You think he knows the area?” She finished her donut and wiped her hands with a paper napkin.

“More likely he scouted for a spot in advance, just for that purpose. Him or the person working with him. I’m almost positive I heard an engine idling somewhere nearby.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine he’d drive you all the way out there and then walk back.”

“I didn’t see anybody on my way out, but it would’ve been easy enough for him to duck into the woods.”

I sipped some coffee, then gave in and grabbed a donut for myself.

Mia said, “Think it was Pierce?”

“I guess it’s possible, but I really don’t think it was. This guy sounded older — maybe forties — and not from around here. He had a Boston accent like Matt Damon did in that movie about the math genius. Not quite that harsh, but similar.”

“Think he knows Pierce?”

“He claimed he didn’t, and that he was working security for someone who lived around there. But that was a weak cover. If he was under the impression that I thought he knew Pierce, but he really didn’t, wouldn’t he want to leave me with my mistaken impression? Why would he offer up any information at all? It seemed obvious that he was trying to steer me away from the truth. So, yeah, I’d say he’s connected to Pierce.”

“Let’s assume so. Then the question is: Why would he be working security for a 26-year-old dishwasher?”

“Man, I have no idea.”

“Something weird there.”

“Oh, I agree totally. We’re missing a big piece of the puzzle. At least one piece.”

Mia seemed to be enjoying our conversation — the speculation, the mystery, the unanswered questions — quite a bit.

So I said, “You realize that this sort of thing is completely out of the norm. Most of what I do, and what you would be doing, is pretty damn boring. You know that already.”

“Yes, I do know that, and I notice that you said ‘would.’”

“Yeah?”

“You should be saying ‘will.’”

“You still want to do it, huh? Be my partner?”

“Can’t be any more dangerous than working at the bar. You know how often I have to fend off creeps in the parking lot?”

“Where else am I supposed to wait for you?”

She smiled for a second.

I said, “Here’s the other problem. This thing with Brian Pierce — whatever it is — it isn’t actually a case now. Heidi pulled the plug. What that means is, ain’t no money coming our way for it.”

“So?”

“So if you really want to be my partner — and I’m glad you do — why not wait until the next case comes in? Then we’ll jump right in.”

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“Somebody mistreated my friend Roy, and they aren’t getting away with it.”

Frankly, I was touched. “That’s, uh — ”

“Sweet?”

“Really dumb. Working for nothing?”

“You’re an ass. Let’s go over it again. Repeat the entire conversation. Word for word, if you can remember.”

So I did, as best as I could recall. Mia listened quietly until I got to the part where the guy asked about the dryer in the driveway. I was starting to think of him as “The Guy.”

“Wait a sec,” she said. “What about the camera?”

“What about it?”

“Why would he mention the dryer rather than the camera?”

“I’m not following you.”

“If you admitted to me that you’d been watching Pierce, I’d say, ‘Oh, so you’re the one who hid the super-secret spy camera beside his driveway.’ But, instead, he asked about the dryer.”

I thought about it. “Well, since I’d admitted that I was watching Pierce, it was obvious the camera was mine, whereas the dryer could’ve been dumped by anybody. He was probably just curious. Tying up loose ends.”

“Maybe, or maybe he never found the camera.”

“But I asked him about it. I asked if I was gonna get my camera back.”

“Wasn’t that when he was in the back of your van, pawing through all your equipment? He might’ve thought you were talking about one of the cameras you keep in the van.”

That stopped me for a second.

She continued. “Did you say ‘camera’ or ‘rock camera’?”

“I don’t remember.”

“How did he respond when you asked about getting it back?”

“He told me to shut up.”

“So you’ve just been assuming he found the rock camera, but maybe he didn’t. Maybe it was the dryer that made him suspicious. Did you reach the cedar tree before he zapped you? Did you get a chance to see if the camera was there?”

I had to think about it. “It’s hard to remember. But now I’m starting to think I didn’t.”

“So the camera could still be sitting there, and if we’re lucky, maybe it’ll tell us a little more about this guy. Or about Pierce. Or the woman in the Jetta. Or all three.”

“Damn, you’re good.”

“Thanks. We should go check it out.”

“Absolutely.”

“When?”

“Right now.”

We took the van. We could’ve taken her car, but I’ll admit it was a matter of pride. I guess I wanted to prove to myself — or maybe to Mia, or even to The Guy — that I wasn’t afraid to show myself again, as plain as day. Also, on the more practical side, it made sense to keep Mia’s car in our hip pocket, never seen before, in case we needed it later.

I didn’t bother driving past Pierce’s place and turning around. I simply pulled to the shoulder and stopped not far from the cedar tree. And I immediately liked what I saw.

“Is it there?” Mia asked.

She was temporarily crouched down in the back. No sense in letting The Guy know anyone was working with me.

“Hell, yeah, it is. Back in a sec.”

“Be careful.”

Once again, no cars were coming from either direction. Which was why, as I exited the van and made my way toward the rock camera, which was still resting in the same place I’d put it, I carried my Glock by my side, in plain sight.

It was a strange moment. I wanted to get away cleanly, without any trouble. No question about that. But there was also a small, irrational part of me that wanted The Guy to pop out from behind a tree so I could draw down on him and start to get some payback. Make him lie facedown in the dirt. Plant a foot on the back of his neck. Make him feel helpless and weak.

But nothing happened.

I grabbed the rock camera with my left hand and carried it back to the van, glancing behind me only once. I set the camera on the floorboard and tucked the Glock into the glove compartment, then closed the driver’s door and pulled back onto the pavement.

When I stopped at the intersection with Circle Drive, Mia returned to the passenger seat and buckled in. She didn’t say anything, but she was beaming. I stuck my fist out and she bumped it.

“Thanks, pardner,” I said.