The man walked right by the girl, but Angie could tell his gaze never really left her. Angie kept walking too, but she stopped once her target’s back was to her, sidled over to a store, and pretended to look at her phone.
The man approached the girl. He talked and she listened. He was animated and she seemed cautious, but receptive to whatever he was saying. He opened the H&M bag and Angie’s breath caught when he took out a scarf. He showed it to the girl. She looked at it and nodded her head. She approved. The man smiled and put the scarf back in the bag. He went on his way. The girl remained, seemingly unsure of where she needed to go. The man took four steps, turned around, and approached the girl from behind as she headed off in the opposite direction.
Angie’s body tingled with anticipation. The man tapped the girl’s shoulder. She turned. Nothing registered on her face, not the slightest hint of alarm or concern. She was friendly, open to him. He took out a card from his wallet and handed it to her. She studied it. The man spoke animatedly, gesticulating. Angie pretended to browse her phone. Whatever he was explaining had some urgency. At some point, his phone rang and he took the call. The girl waited patiently for him to finish.
Angie desperately wished she could eavesdrop on the conversation. The girl smiled weakly. The man held up his hands in a gesture that reminded Angie of the phrase now or never. He cocked his head slightly. He waited. Then he gave the girl a faint smile, tinged with disappointment. Ah well, your loss. He turned on his heels and marched away from the girl. She watched him go. It looked like a repeat performance of the Nadine encounter. The man continued, but not a brisk pace. The girl hesitated.
Angie approached the girl from behind. “Go away from him, and go away fast,” she said as she passed. She didn’t break stride. Didn’t stop to engage, but the girl heard Angie’s words loud and clear.
She headed in the opposite direction. It would have been a bonus to get the business card the girl had accepted, but that would have meant stopping to engage. Engaging could have blown Angie’s cover, or worse, let her target disappear. If the man was what Angie believed him to be, the card would be bogus anyway.
The man stopped and looked back. He didn’t notice Angie, who took cover in a crowd. Any girl who took notice of the man’s snarling face would never consider stopping to talk to him. He marched off in a huff. Angie stayed on his heels—thirty feet back, of course. Maybe he’d had enough for the day. Not every hunt was a successful one.
He took the escalator to the mezzanine level. Angie let a group go in front of her, target still in her sights.
He turned toward the parking garage. The crowds had thinned, and Angie’s anxiety levels spiked. She changed her approach as she changed her stride. She was headed for her car, and he was going for his.
She fished the car keys from her purse. He either didn’t notice her behind him or he didn’t turn around to look. He stopped at a gleaming Cadillac Escalade. With her phone out and held in front of her at an angle, she launched her camera app and managed to snap a picture of the license plate as she passed.
He was definitely leaving. Taillights came on as he reversed out of his space and drove by Angie at a good clip. Her car was parked near the ramp on the east side of Union Station, while he had entered from H Street. He would be long gone by the time she retrieved her vehicle.
Still, she tried. She paid at the ticket window and pulled out into traffic. The Escalade was nowhere in sight. Gone. Long gone. She pulled over where it was safe and used her phone to access the DocuFind portal.
DocuFind provided licensed private investigators with a wealth of useful data. The movies made this process look so easy. Jot down a plate, hop on a computer, and wham-o, there’s your guy. A real license plate search was not as straightforward. Free websites frequently provided out-of-date or incorrect information. The DocuFind results came straight from the DMV, but instant was to the DMV as animated was to a mummy.
Angie entered the data into the website forms and submitted her request. The results could come back in an hour or a day. Soon, though, she could begin to build a profile of this man, gathering bits of his background the way a bird builds a nest, piece by piece. Date of birth, current address, criminal record, properties owned, that sort of thing. Who was this man? Did he know Nadine’s whereabouts? Was Angie even watching the right person? Maybe the entire exchange between Mr. Baldy and Nadine was innocuous.
Angie was on a fishing expedition of her own. She had cast her line with a good-sized hook and some tasty bait on the end.
All she needed was a bite.
CHAPTER 22
Excerpts from the journal of Nadine Jessup, pages 38-40