chapter Twenty-nine
Eric paid the bill, beating Casey to the punch, and they left the little restaurant. The heat hit them like a wave, and Eric pulled his shirt from his stomach. “You didn’t want Wayne to give us an introduction at the police station?”
“We go in there, they’re going to contact the police in Colorado. Then what happens?”
They meandered down the street, discussing their next move.
“We need to let the cops in on it sometime,” Eric said. “They have resources we don’t. They could make these connections. They might even be able to find those men.”
Casey stopped and watched a mockingbird pecking at something in the grass. “I know you’re right. It’s just, cops and I, we haven’t exactly…”
“Been on the same side for a while?”
“Well, yes.”
“Do you feel the same about retired cops?”
“What do you mean?”
“If one of the cops from back then became chief, that must mean—”
“—that chief would be retired. Unless he’s dead.”
“Nice.”
Casey looked around, hoping to be able to ask Death if the former chief had crossed Death’s path, and she went still. She’d seen a man just for a moment before he’d ducked into a doorway. He wore jeans, a gray sweatshirt, running shoes, and sunglasses. He was about Eric’s height, fair-skinned, with blond hair, and he was trim. Late twenties, maybe. And he was obviously spying on them. She turned back toward the mockingbird, although she was not really interested in watching it, anymore. “Don’t look around, Eric. I mean, act normal, all right?”
Eric tensed. “Why? What’s wrong?”
Casey turned up the sidewalk and resumed walking the way they’d been going. “Come on.”
Eric trotted to catch up. “I’m not looking. What is it?”
“We’re being followed. Don’t look.”
“Followed? How do you know?”
Casey didn’t answer, instead taking Eric’s elbow and leading him down the street that headed to their motel. She tried to make it look like they were just out for a walk, with her hand on the crook of his elbow, but in reality she had an iron grip on his arm so he wouldn’t be tempted to turn around. It wouldn’t be a secret where they were staying, not in a town that size, so having someone follow them to the motel wouldn’t matter.
“Who is it?” Eric’s voice was tight.
“Don’t know.”
“But what if it’s one of them? One of those three men?”
“Don’t worry.”
“Seriously? Don’t worry? That’s why you’re cutting off the blood circulation in my arm?”
“It will be fine.”
The pharmacy where Betsy worked sat at the end of the block. A safe place. Casey eased Eric in that direction, and they went inside.
The woman who had given Betsy the afternoon off was behind the counter. It took her only a second to recognize them. “Is Betsy with you?”
“No, she needed to go home and check something.”
The woman frowned. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Maybe, thanks. We’ll let you know.”
Casey pulled Eric down an aisle, and heard the woman greet someone else and start talking. It was a one-sided conversation. Casey peeked back and saw she was on the phone, probably calling Betsy.
“Stay here a minute,” Casey told Eric. She snuck back toward the front of the store and looked out the window from a protected space in the aisle. No one passed the window or entered the store, so Casey figured whoever was following them had settled in to wait. Casey went back to Eric. “Distract the woman when she gets off the phone, okay?”
“What are you going to do?”
But Casey was already walking to the back of the store. She made sure to keep shelves between herself and the cashier, and looked for another way out. There had to be a second door for fire codes, even if it wasn’t used as a public entrance. A tall counter ran the width of the store at the back wall, with a gate to the skinny hallway on the far right side. A man with white hair and a lab coat peered over reading glasses at a computer screen, holding a medicine bottle in one hand and poking at the keyboard with the other. He gave a little grunt, then swiveled the other way and disappeared behind a rack of bottles and boxes.
Casey stepped over the gate and walked quickly back the little hallway, past an empty office, a tiny bathroom—“Employees Only”—and the break room where they’d sat before. Beyond that was an exterior door that said, “Emergency Exit.” She pushed the bar, and went out. No alarms sounded. Typical.
She eased the door shut and walked down the alley, back in the direction they’d come. The pharmacy was part of a bank of brick buildings with no opening between them to the street, so hopefully no chance of being seen by their stalker. When she got to the end of the row, she looked around the corner, but the side street was empty except for two moms talking to each other while one toddler pulled on her mom’s hand and another leaned over to spit very slowly onto the sidewalk. Casey didn’t want to take a chance of still being in front of whoever was following them, so she continued across the street, walked behind a row of houses, and cut back up to the street at the next crossroad. She hoped the women hadn’t noticed her, or, if they had, they hadn’t wondered too much about what some strange woman was doing in the alley.
A man was standing in front of the bank, not moving, not looking like someone with a check to cash. Casey spotted him immediately, even from that distance. He stood across from the pharmacy in the lee of the bank’s awning, facing the big front window of the bank, holding a phone to his ear. The pharmacy would be reflected in the glass. He was very obviously—to Casey, anyway—using the phone as a prop, because he wasn’t talking into it, and from his expression he wasn’t listening, either. Casey moved closer, wishing she had a phone of her own, so she could call Eric and have him come out so the man would follow him, and Casey could follow the man. But maybe the man would wait for her, instead of going after Eric. No telling. It was irrelevant, anyway, since she didn’t have a phone.
The man switched his phone from his left ear to his right—his arm was probably getting tired since she and Eric been in the pharmacy so long—which partially hid his face. When Casey got to the crossroad, the two women with the toddlers were walking away from the main street, so Casey didn’t have to worry about them giving her away. She used the man’s new hand position to get closer to him, crossing the street when she arrived at the angle at which she would start to be reflected in the bank’s window.
She walked up behind the man and grabbed his upper right arm, pinching a pressure point to keep him from moving. “Looking for me?”
He jumped, fumbling the phone and dropping it onto the sidewalk, where it landed with a loud crack. His voice was tight with pain. “What do you want?”
“I think I should ask you that.”
He glanced around, as if afraid someone would see them together. Or maybe afraid they wouldn’t.
“I’m not going to assault you,” Casey said. “I just want to talk.”
“You are assaulting me.”
“No, I’m keeping you from reaching for your gun.”
“What gun?”
“Please. Who wears a sweatshirt in Texas on a day like this?”
“Don’t take it.”
“I’m not going to touch it. Like I said, I want to talk.”
“About what? I don’t know you.”
“Exactly.”
“What?” He licked his lips and glanced at his phone, where it lay on the ground.
“No one’s there,” Casey said.
“What?” He was like a broken record.
“You weren’t really talking to anyone on the phone. So there’s no one there.”
A flush crept up his neck, and blotchy red spots stained his cheeks. Up close he looked younger than Casey had originally thought. His lips were a dark pink, and pale freckles were scattered across his nose and cheekbones. He blinked rapidly and straightened his shoulders as much as he could while she still held his arm. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“That’s really the way you want to play it?”
He glanced around again, shifting from one foot to the other. “I don’t understand.”
Casey sighed. “Look. You were following us. I caught you. Now is the time when you tell me why you were doing that.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything.” He clenched his jaw, reminding her of those toddlers she’d seen.
“I could make you.” She squeezed harder.
He winced. “You can’t. And you’ll get in trouble.” Again with the toddler thing.
“Who are you going to tattle to?”
His chin trembled. “My boss.”
“Your boss? Who’s your boss?”
He pinched his lips together.
She moved forward so he could see into her eyes. His were unreadable behind his sunglasses. “Look, I’ll let you go, but if I see you reaching for your gun it won’t be pretty. Trust me on that.”
He hesitated for only a few seconds before nodding.
She allowed him to yank his arm away, and he rubbed it.
“Yes, my boss sent me. And now I see why.”
“Look, I didn’t want to hurt you. But I also didn’t want to get shot, and didn’t want some weirdo catching me at a bad time.”
“I’m not a weirdo.”
“So who are you?”
He made a slight move, and Casey grabbed his arm again.
“Hey,” he said. “I just want to show you something. Not my gun.”
She narrowed her eyes, but let him move.
He pulled up his sweatshirt to show her a badge clipped to his belt.
Great. “You’re a cop?”
He nodded, and gave her a very toddler-like smirk. “Which means you are in very big trouble.”