Reunion (4 page)

Observing the men gave Patti an idea. “Graeme, is
Michael running a background on the mother?”

“As we speak.”

“Good, then let’s focus on what we can do from
here. Why don’t I take an extended walk outside while you gather a list of
Grant’s students? This has got to be someone he knows or who knows of him.
There is no way it’s random. It’s been way too long since the three of us have
been together so I don’t think I have any relevant news to offer, but I do have
my law enforcement experience.”

While she spoke with Graeme, RJ and Grant moved to
the couch and sat huddled together. Part of her wanted nothing more than to
join them, but the only real comfort Grant would find was in the return of his
daughter. Pushing aside the twinge of pain at the thought of his small family,
and her desire for something like that for herself, Patti rubbed her hands
together. She needed action. “I’m going to bring my suitcase inside so I can
change clothes—”

Graeme nodded. “This is actually going rather
quickly—most of the cases I’ve been involved with—let’s just say they don’t
call this soon. Or at all.” Graeme rubbed at his face and blew out a breath.

“Something about this is tweaking at me. Like
there’s two different minds, two different intentions behind the snatch.”
Graeme shook his head, as if bringing himself back. “It would be completely
stupid for the kidnappers to show back up in this neighborhood—but something
about the last two lines of that note… You have a weapon?”

“Always.” Patti removed her SIG pocket 9mm from
her bag. “There’s more firepower in my Jeep if I need it.”

Ten minutes later, after retrieving her suitcase
and dressing in a dark pair of jeans and polo shirt, Patti moved through the
neighborhood, the picture of innocence out for a late night stroll. The street
was a typical old Scottsdale neighborhood. The small, cinder block homes were
varying shades of whites and tans with red tile roofs, set back on surprisingly
deep lots. The desert xeriscaping of most of the yards left few shadows on this
moonlit night, so lurking unseen was going to be difficult. For now, she would
walk through the subdivision looking for anything out of place.

With a vague sense of guilt, Patti realized it was
soothing to walk alone in the warm air of the summer night. Not exactly the
same sense of peaceful solitude of her nighttime patrols at the bottom of the
Grand Canyon, but she was the only one outside, away from the screaming
tension, from the waves of parental terror that permeated Grant’s small house.

Grant and RJ had been her best friends for years
and hardly a day had passed without them seeing each other. With the arrogance
of youth, they’d determined that further education and careers came first—with
no lingering goodbyes and no futile attempt at long distance relationships. A
trip to a rented house in Sedona was the culmination of a special goodbye
weekend—made magical by their final night of lovemaking.

What a lesson in how the best laid plans could go
wrong in so many unexpected ways. Not that they’d actually spent much time in
planning their week. It was a date made years ago—in the event they were still
unmarried, still childless. A half drunken promise made amid a tangle of bare
limbs and in the sated aftermath of really hot sex.

For a moment, she replayed the memory of their
last night together. Although it hadn’t been their first three-way sex, it
certainly was the most intense. Maybe because they’d all gone their separate
ways the following morning. Or maybe it was because RJ had finally lowered his
last defense, and let Grant in—literally.

To this day, Patti could close her eyes and see
the look on RJ’s face as he’d thrust into her while Grant took him from behind.
Heavy, sexy lids, lips parted into a slight smile as he both took and gave, his
breath harsh and punctuated with grunts of pleasure. The final promise of
meeting sometime in the future nothing but a bittersweet dream.

For all practical purposes, this reunion was a
meeting of near-strangers. And yet, at least for her, with each day that had
brought the actual date closer, her excitement had risen, as inevitable as the
tide. Because she’d always believed deep in her heart that these two men were
the ones who had gotten away. Which was probably why none of her other
relationships had been successful—she’d been hanging on to a secret fantasy
that they’d all be ready when they met again.

Passing through the alley behind the house for the
third time, Patti decided it was time to go back inside and check in. Her cell
hadn’t vibrated, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any news. Certainly nothing
had changed outside as she’d walked the streets surrounding Grant’s. She would
make one more pass in front of his house before heading inside.

As she turned the corner, Patti saw the first sign
of life all night. A small car made a wide right onto the street and rolled to
a stop opposite Grant’s house, facing the wrong way. Too late to turn around
without looking suspicious, Patti changed her posture, huddling in on herself
and shortening her stride as she quickened her pace, going straight for her
Jeep. Frequently glancing over her shoulder—as if she feared someone might be
following her—she passed the car across the street without appearing to pay any
attention to the young male inside. At her own driver-side door, she pretended
to fumble with her keys as she took note of as many details as possible,
including the plate number. Climbing inside, she delayed another few seconds,
observing the car in her rearview mirror. Praying this was the break they needed,
Patti started dialing her phone as she drove away.

The ring of RJ’s phone had everyone in the house on
their feet in an instant. RJ’s heart raced and it was suddenly hard to breathe
as he snatched his phone from the coffee table. God, please let her be okay. “Patti?”

“Put me on speaker.” Her voice held a note of
excited tension.

“You are,” RJ said. He looked to Graeme and
confirmed the man was taking notes. Grant was watching, face pale, his long,
slender fingers clutching his own throat.

“A car pulled up to the opposite side of the house
a few minutes ago—red Prius, Arizona tags.” Like an automatic weapon, letters
and numbers shot out, and Graeme was typing into the iPhone he kept at the
ready.

“I was already on the street when he pulled around
the corner. Only suspicious activity is stopping on the street opposite the
house, facing the wrong direction. Occupant is a single male, Caucasian, too
dark for other details. I’m sorry, Graeme, he spotted me, so the only thing I
could do was get in my Jeep and drive away.”

“You did good. Just keep driving for a few.
Michael bumped up the timetable and is briefing the feds, now. You met Jolynn’s
guy Marcus, right?” RJ had no idea who all these people were that they
mentioned, but Patti seemed to, and he took it on faith she’d speak up if there
was a problem with anyone.

“Yes, he went to the ballgame with us last time I
was in town.”

“Marcus is good people. He’s our best operative
and he’s on the way over here. He can take over the watch, or follow, if the
male is still out there. When you’re sure you’re clear, park in a different
location and enter through the alley.”

After listening for a minute, RJ left his phone on
the table while he raced for the bedroom to get what he needed from his
computer bag. Without a word to anyone, he opened the back door, barely
registering Graeme’s curse and Grant’s strangled call of his name. There was no
time to lose. If the man out front was involved with little Annie’s kidnapping,
RJ was the only one with a remote chance of tracking him before he hightailed
it from the neighborhood.

Moving awkwardly between two houses, RJ emerged
several yards away from the car, but he could see the shadowy figure reach for
the steering wheel and the brake lights gave a quick flicker as if the driver
was touching the pedal. Was he getting ready to drive off? Or shit…what if the
guy lived in the neighborhood and was just putting his car in park, preparing
to settle in for the remaining few hours of the night?

God. RJ was a lab rat—not a fucking surveillance
expert. Sure, he studied reels of video, police work, undercover cops, and
military operations. After all, he needed to understand how they did their jobs
so he was better prepared to create solutions to problems they might not even
be aware they had. That didn’t make him an expert in fieldwork. No fucking way.
But here he was, directly in line of the guy’s view and adding a false weave to
his walk, hoping like hell he’d be taken for a neighbor with too much to drink,
stumbling his way home.

The battery of the Prius purred to life and RJ was
suddenly lit up like an opening night. Fuck. Six more steps. Five. The car
inched forward, the interior lights of the dash dim, but giving some form to
the shadow. A big man, but surprisingly young. The man-boy didn’t look like he
had enough facial hair to shave, but his shoulders looked like they belonged to
football player.

RJ lurched toward the car, one hand landing on the
roof, the other knocking on the window. “Hey, man…you see my girlfriend?
Fucking bitch.” He didn’t slur so much as he drew out the words, slow and
careful.

The window slid down in fits and starts, as if the
driver wasn’t sure he should be opening up to the stranger but couldn’t resist
sharing what he knew.

“Your girl in jeans? I mean, it’s dark, but I saw
a bitch get in a SUV a few minutes ago.” He tapped his hands nervously on the
wheel and looked toward the spot where Patti had been parked. The word bitch
trembled a little on his lips, as if he wasn’t used to saying it out loud—or at
least not in front of adults. What was this? A training program for wannabe
kidnappers? Pick on someone without any resources? Shaking off the thought that
made Grant seem like a target because he was a teacher, RJ made himself stay with
the scenario he’d created.

“Fucking cunt. S’posed to give me a ride home.” RJ
trailed his fingers over the surface of the car, his heart rate speeding up,
but his hands feeling steady, sure. “Shit. Hey! You live around here?” He
looked around the car, as if the boy’s room might suddenly appear.

“Uhm…no. Not really. Do you…uh…need a ride
somewhere?”

Fuck, wasn’t that tempting? But if the kid wasn’t
associated with the crime, RJ would be wasting everyone’s time. Besides, he was
the only one who knew what he was about to do, and those inside didn’t need a
second person to look for if he disappeared, did they?

“Naw, man. I’m good. Fuck her. I’m just gonna go
back to my friend’s house. I wasn’t ready to leave yet anyway. Fuckin’ cunt,”
he said again. He’d run out of words the kid might consider cool—time to move
on.

“Okay, well—I gotta go. See you around.”

“Yeah, same here.” RJ slapped the top of the car and
stumbled back. He gave one last look, just as the kid pulled away, and nearly screamed
in frustration. Or puked at his own worthlessness. He should have fucking
pulled the little prick from the car and beat the shit out of him.

Three minutes later, RJ stepped into Grant’s dimly
lit kitchen. The first thing that hit him was the smell of a richly brewed
coffee. The second thing that hit him was Patti’s hand. A right clip to his
shoulder that caused him to stumble a step sideways before he caught his
balance.

“You stupid sonofabitch! What did you think you
were doing? You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“No, I couldn’t. I have—”

“Goddammit! What the fuck happened?” Graeme drew
himself up to his full height, and an angry flush crawled up his neck. “Everybody
in here, right now.” He pointed to the small dining room table. RJ held his head
up, refusing to let the waves of anger deter him.

“I’ll be right there.” He strode past the
impressive combined presence of Patti and Graeme, winked at Grant, then went to
the bedroom to grab his computer bag. By the time he returned to the dining room,
Patti and Grant were seated at the table, while Graeme paced, muttering into
his mic. No doubt telling Michael how fucked up this civilian engineer was for
busting their non-existent surveillance.

Opening his case, he looked up at Graeme. “Give me
two minutes and I’ll explain. Would you mind pouring me a cup of that coffee?”

Despite the overriding tension and the
horrifyingly high stakes, he thought he caught a hint of a smile from Patti. As
soon as his MacBook booted, RJ typed in a few commands then waited for the
computer do its thing before he explained. A cup of coffee slammed down next to
his elbow with a thud, dark liquid sloshing onto the table.

“Listen up, genius,” Graeme said. “Patti is a
trained professional and even she got caught out there and was forced to
improvise. We were damned lucky she didn’t get hurt—because that sure as fuck
is likely to relate to the kidnapping. The plates turned out to be stolen. That
driver was our best lead and thanks to you, he’s gone.”

RJ’s computer dinged but he didn’t look down. “Okay,
look. I had—”

“No, RJ, let Graeme finish,” Patti said. “This is
really important. We all want to help get Grant’s daughter back—everyone is
doing what they’re best at. Right now, you can help by keeping Grant calm—not
running around after kidnappers by yourself, unarmed, untrained.”

“I just want to—”

“I get it, RJ,” Graeme interrupted. “I really do.
Look, I was a kidnap victim myself, once. I am speaking as more than one kind
of expert here. What that little girl needs right now is for all of us to focus
on finding her—”

“Shut the fuck up for a minute, would you? Here—”
RJ tossed a specially modified cell phone to the big man. “Press speed dial
one.”

Graeme caught the phone and flipped it over. He
looked at the green screen on the front of the phone before pressing the
appropriate keys, as directed. His brows pulled together into a frown. “Michael—hold
up on my last request. Yeah. No. I know. Just monitor here for a minute, okay?”

Glancing at RJ before turning his stare back to the
phone, he said quietly, “Tell me what I’m looking at.”

“The current location of the red Prius. Assuming
no one found the transmitter I placed. I’ve got a little clearer image here on
my computer if you want to step around. When I add the city grid to the layers
on the GIS, you have a street location right here.” He pointed to the pop up
window that was flickering through street intersections as the vehicle moved
north. “When the car stops, you’ll have the exact address, assuming he’s on the
grid. If he’s off-grid, I can get latitude and longitude. Either way, we’ll be
able to locate him.”

“Holy fuck.”

Yeah, RJ knew it was pretty holy fuck—there were
plenty of other trackers out there, but the compact size combined with the
energy conserving circuitry and pinpoint accuracy was going to change the
playing field in private and possibly government surveillance.

“Hey, no big deal. I didn’t realize I was going to
have a shot at using it until Patti called. That’s why I didn’t wait around to
explain. Besides, I’m afraid we have actual confirmation that the car is
involved in Annie’s disappearance.”

Everyone around the table seemed to stiffen with
increased tension. “What did you see?” Graeme asked.

RJ reached over to put his hand on Grant’s arm.
The man looked wiped. When they’d been in college, Grant sported a perpetual
tan, a healthy glow that followed him year-round as he racked up the miles
running cross-country. He still looked every bit the runner, long and lean, but
the tan had an unhealthy tint that seemed to turn grayer with each hour that
passed without word of his missing daughter. RJ hated to add to his burden, but
maybe the news would be a mixed blessing for those involved in the actual
search.

“Grant, I’m sorry.” He gave his old friend’s hand
a squeeze then looked back to Graeme. “I could see directly into the back of
the Prius when the man drove away. There was a coil of white rope, and from the
tight loops and gloss, I think it was nylon. There was a bag of zip ties—I use
them all the time in my work, so yes, I’m sure. And a child’s shoe. It looked
to be the same one in the photo Grant gave us earlier.”