“You’re not doing it alone.” Janie knew her friend was trying to reassure her, but it just made the sense of failure clog in her chest again, tighter and darker than before. It had been her idea to approach Newman about the photo shoot. But on Wednesday, she’d managed to get only as close as the hall outside his office, which was in the grungy storage room where the time clock was kept. She’d stood there, heart racing in her chest like a runaway locomotive. Palms sweating. Body shaking. Even if the man wasn’t inside, she’d known all she had to do was press a button mounted on the wall that would summon him.
And she’d realized that even if she saw him, she wouldn’t be able to utter a word. Janie was finding it hard to forgive herself for that.
The next day Alyvia had accompanied her. A deep fountain of shame welled up at the memory. Her friend had done the talking. It had been all Janie could do to stay in one place when her mind and body were screaming at her to bolt. Alyvia had had to yank her inside when Newman had insisted they go into his office to talk in private.
I’m sorry, Kelsey. After all these years, she hadn’t been able to manage a simple conversation, even if it might help them learn something about her sister’s disappearance. The fact that a photo shoot had been set up, one for Alyvia rather than Janie, should have comforted her. Somehow it just made her more miserable.
“Why are we waiting here?” Alyvia leaned forward and took the cigarettes from the glove box. Lit one and handed it to Janie. Her fingers fumbling, she drew deeply from it. But it didn’t decrease the anxiety clawing through her. Not this time.
A car pulled up beside them. A shaggy-haired boy got out, rounded the hood with a box in his hands.
“Janie Lyn Willard. You’ve been holding out on me.” Typical Alyvia, she wasn’t pissed when she recognized Cole Bogart, just intrigued. Reaching over, she snatched the cigarette back and placed it between her lips. Puffed. “Don’t tell me he’s going to be our bodyguard.”
“No.”
Cole opened the rear driver-side door and slid inside, pulling it shut behind him. “This thing’s a beauty. It’ll take care of all your needs and more.” He looked at Alyvia. “I’m Cole.”
Janie twisted around in her seat to face him. She hadn’t been able to speak to Newman, but she’d managed a conversation with Bogart on Wednesday. She’d figured he’d have the expertise they needed. And if the guy thought he owed her something, he’d be likely to agree to her request without demanding too many details.
She could feel Alyvia’s gaze on her. Then her friend drawled, “I’m Alyvia. Why don’t you tell me how you figure into this little scenario of ours?”
“Janie said you wanted a listening device. Or something that would record without a person knowing they were being recorded. I’ve checked out Ohio’s law, by the way. It’s a one-party consent state, so you’re in the clear if you want to use the recording in some way.”
Alyvia looked impressed. “Janie’s always been the smart one.”
“I need to know where you’re going to use it.”
“No,” Janie said clearly. “You don’t.”
Cole looked impatient. “Look, I don’t give a shit what you’re doing. But I have to know some details. What kind of distance do you need? Where is the transmitter going to be? The settings have to be adjusted accordingly.”
“We’ll both be in the same room with the person.” From there Janie’s plan got a bit murkier. Get Newman to agree to take photos similar to the ones on the website. Once they—rather, Alyvia—had convinced him she was serious about the session, the man had opened up a little. Told them he’d taken “artistic photos” for dozens of girls in the area. Which made Janie even more certain that he was the one who’d taken Heather Miller’s photos.
And Kelsey’s.
“You have to be really careful with this equipment. I used my mom’s credit card for it, and I want to get it sent back before she sees the charge on her statement.” His voice grew more animated as he pulled off his gloves and opened the box. “These are sweet devices. Since I wasn’t sure how they were going to be used, I got more than one. You can record a conversation while you’re in proximity to the person, or you can transmit the conversation to the recording mechanism from thirty yards away. So it makes a difference how you want to set it up.” He stroked the contents inside the box with affection.
Alyvia lowered her voice. “That means you could wait in the car, Janie. I’d be fine with him, and you’d still get to hear the whole conversation.”
“Wait.” Cole looked up, his eyes narrowed. “You’d be fine with who?”
“It’s whom,” Alyvia informed him airily. Then frowned. “I think.”
“No, I’ll be there with you.” Janie wasn’t that big a coward. At least, she’d hate to think she was. “You’ll be safer with me in the room.”
Cole looked from one of them to the other. “Okay, so you’re going to be inside and not outdoors? Any chance this guy you’re meeting has a jamming device?”
“A what?” Janie asked. She reached for the cigarette again, noticed that her fingers were trembling. Damned the physical responses she’d never had total control over.
“A jammer. If the guy you’re meeting is technologically savvy, he might have the equipment to scramble the signal of your transmitter.”
Alyvia snickered. “Doubtful. I’m surprised this guy even knows how to run a camera.”
“A cam . . .” Concern filled Cole’s face. “Hey, you aren’t by any chance meeting Herb Newman somewhere, are you?”
Turning more fully in her seat, Janie narrowed a look at him. “What do you know about Newman?”
“Other than the fact that his personal grooming sucks and he can live for a week off the food caught in his beard?” He shrugged. “Maybe I started doing some digging when I found those pictures of Miller on the web. I figured Ferin might have taken them, but I can’t see him uploading them to that site I found. At least not while he and Miller are still hooking up. I asked around. Heard Newman’s name mentioned. The guy claims to work for some sort of talent agency. Takes head shots and stuff and submits them for modeling jobs.” Janie couldn’t read his expression. “Is that what he told you?”
“Something like that,” she admitted.
“And you want proof he’s doing it,” Cole said slowly. “So you can . . . what? Turn him in for taking skanky pictures?”
She needed to find out whether he’d taken the pictures of Kelsey. And if he had, she wanted him investigated to see if he’d been involved with her sister’s disappearance. But she wasn’t going to explain any of this to Cole. Despite the favor he’d done her by obtaining the recording device, she had no reason to trust him. And Alyvia, for once, was keeping her mouth shut, as well.
“So you don’t want to tell me.” He lifted a shoulder, started lifting equipment out of the box. “That’s cool. But here’s the thing . . . he’s been using that empty lake house on Fuller Road. And since that party got busted there last month, the cops are doing a ton of drive-bys. Even Ferin stopped going there for a while, which hasn’t been good for his business.”
No one said anything for a moment. Then Cole shook the hair out of his eyes and pulled out his cell. “Janie, give me your number.”
Immediately wary, she asked, “Why?”