Gone Missing. Camy Tang
Winchester gave a firm nod. “I can do that. Could I see the video?”
They played it for him, fast-forwarding through the entire eighteen minutes that they were in the store.
“I’ll take the video in,” the officer said. “Jody, I’ll need the originals.”
“Could I get a copy first?” Joslyn asked. “Clay’s lawyer is going to want to see it.”
While waiting for Benny to make a copy for her, she said to Jody, “Thanks again. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been so helpful.”
“Aw, sweetie, I could tell you were really worried. Of course I’d help. Besides, it was no skin off my back.”
“Thank you for doing this for me. For Clay,” Joslyn said to Officer Winchester.
His dark eyes were inscrutable, but he nodded. “I’ll take this to the station, but I’m afraid I can’t do anything else for your friend’s case.”
She knew he couldn’t make her any promises, but she hoped he’d at least do what he said. She was waiting to hear from Liam O’Neill about that lawyer for Clay, and hopefully she could fix this entire frustrating situation.
As she was leaving the store she felt it. That shiver across the back of her shoulders, that suspicion that she was being watched.
She had felt it often a few months ago, when she was on the run from Tomas, who had murdered her father. Most of the time, that feeling had been false, because if someone had been following her, Tomas would have found her a lot sooner than he had. She’d been paranoid and jumpy, exhausted by grief over her dead father and dead...
Her hand automatically went to her stomach and tightened there for a moment. Her counselor said she was making progress, but it still hurt like a physical pain.
Her shoulders tingled again. Was this the same thing, paranoia because of all the stress of the morning? It wasn’t every day she was almost killed by a bomb. She knew she had compartmentalized it—her counselor would use the term coping mechanism—but she’d have to come to terms with it.
Later. Not right now.
“Hello, sweetheart.” She didn’t recognize the gravelly voice, but she recognized the man’s face from the glimpses of him in the passenger seat of the car that had been following them this morning—his curly dark hair and sunglasses. He stood in front of her, blocking her way.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! If she’d been paying attention instead of taking a mental coffee break, she wouldn’t have been surprised by him.
By them. The second man stood just behind his left shoulder.
Maybe she should have paid attention to the feeling she was being hunted.
She reacted quickly, instinctively. She shoved hard at the man and sent out a high-pitched scream. “Get away from me! Help! Officer Winchester!”
The policeman had been behind her when she left the store, but he’d turned left when she’d turned right. Was he still within hearing range?
People around them stopped to stare. When she shoved the man, he’d stumbled backward into a young man, who looked like a college student, leaning against the wall of a store. “Hey, man, watch it!” the student said.
The second man had sidestepped to avoid his partner’s fall, and he moved in quickly to grab her elbow in a painful grip. “Let’s go,” he hissed.
She jabbed her fist into his throat.
He coughed, his grip loosened. She wrenched her arm away and ran back the way she’d come.
She wove through the crowd, her breath harsh in her ears. Was the man following her? Were they both following her?
Two firm hands grabbed her shoulders and stopped her. She was about to scream again when she looked up into Officer Winchester’s stern face.
“Behind me,” she said. “Two men.”
He pushed her aside firmly to head back the way she’d come. She spotted a bench a few yards away and leaped onto it, scanning the crowd. She saw the two men running toward her, their expressions changing when they spotted Officer Winchester. They stopped, but the cop had seen them. They turned and bolted.
Soon the men’s dark heads were at the edge of the crowd, then they tore away at a dead run to the parking lot. She tried to keep track of them, but they ducked behind a large minivan, and then she couldn’t see where they went.
The policeman was too far behind, hampered by the crowds. When he finally got to the parking lot, he looked this way and that, but appeared to have lost track of them. The two suspects were smart and didn’t go tearing out of the parking lot, drawing attention to their vehicle, and the lot was full enough that they could sneak around behind cars and avoid detection.
Joslyn hopped down from the bench and fought her way through the crowd to the parking lot. Officer Winchester was standing near an exit, scanning all the cars slowly leaving this section of the lot, but the men could also have driven out the other exit.
The policeman gave her a grim look. “Sorry, miss. Looks like we lost them.”
It was an unbearably sweet sight for Clay to see Joslyn outside the police station, holding out to him a paper bag with grease stains along one corner.
She smiled. “Fiona mentioned you liked bacon cheeseburgers. Is that still the case?”
“You are a dream come true.”
She laughed, then turned to his lawyer. “I bought one for you, too, Ms. Harnett.”
“Call me Jo.” The blonde lawyer smiled broadly. “And I love bacon cheeseburgers.”
Elisabeth Aday had come through for Joslyn and Clay. Since Elisabeth still volunteered at a local domestic abuse shelter, she knew several lawyers, and one of them had put in an urgent call to his friend Joanna Harnett in Phoenix. Joslyn had given Jo the copy of the video. Officer Winchester had apparently delivered the original video to the detective in charge of Clay’s case as promised, but the lawman had been stubborn about releasing Clay even when faced with clear evidence that he was innocent. Jo had pulled strings, because Clay was finally released an hour later.
They sat on a bench outside the police station to eat their burgers. The salty bacon, melting cheese and juicy beef was exactly what he needed after the frustrating afternoon in police lockup.
None of the people he talked to would believe him. He’d spent two years in jail for being a low-level thug for that Chicago mob family, and he’d gotten a good job as a bouncer for a nightclub in the years since he’d been out, but none of that mattered to them. He felt as if he would never be able to escape his past.
All he wanted to do was to find Fiona, to apologize to her for that last fight they’d had before she left Chicago. To show her that he’d changed. To make up for all the grief he’d put her through.
“The detective will look into the accident,” Jo said around a mouthful of burger. “It wasn’t on a street with many businesses, so there isn’t a good chance some bank ATM camera caught it on film or anything like that.” She had a slight Southern lilt to her voice.
“I don’t understand why they’d do that,” Clay said. “They tried to kill us with that bomb at Fiona’s house, then they followed us, but then they arranged to have me arrested. That’s like a step back.”
“We still don’t know for sure that they’re the ones who set the bomb,” Joslyn said. “But...I think I know why they wanted you arrested—to take you out of the picture. To separate us.”
Clay’s shoulders grew rock hard. “What happened?”
“They