Mean Streak(78)

Chapter 26



The phone deep inside his coat pocket vibrated.

He took it out, read the LED: BLOCKED CALL.

He answered but didn’t say anything.

“It’s me,” Rebecca said.

He’d lied to Emory about not having a cell phone. He had dozens, off-brands he bought in the supermarket, the kind that sold for practically a dime a dozen, disposable. They were used only to communicate with his sister.

Each time he called her, he gave her the number for the next phone, then destroyed the one he’d just used. That way, she always had an untraceable number to call if she needed to reach him in an emergency.

He braced himself to receive bad news. “What’s happened?”

“Special Agent Jack Connell came to call.”

He hadn’t seen that coming, and for a moment he was speechless. Then, in a stage whisper, “Are you f*cking kidding me?”

“I wish.”

“When was this?”

“Today.”

After four years, Connell had showed up today. The day Emory was returned to her husband, when she’d been surrounded by law enforcement officers and media. Coincidence? The two events had occurred three thousand miles apart. What possible link could they have to each other? Only one. Him.

“What did he want?”

“What do you think? You.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“He’s still got the puppy dog eyes,” she said.

“Don’t trust them.”

“Oh, I didn’t. Not for a minute. He’s as manipulative as ever, but he really needs to brush up on his surveillance skills. He was parked down the street when I came home from work yesterday evening.”

“Why didn’t you call me then?”

“I thought he would give up and go away.”

“Fat chance of that.”

“I waited twenty-four hours before busting him.”

“He came alone?”

“Yes.”

“How long was he there?”

“Here in the house, for about fifteen minutes.”

“You let him in?”

“For fifteen minutes,” she repeated testily. “Then I sent him packing.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not still watching you.”

“I don’t think he is.”

He had to trust her on that. She was savvy and elusive. Or had been until now. He asked the most pertinent question. “How did he track you all the way to Seattle?”

She explained how her former coworker at Macy’s had spotted her on a newscast. He began to relax a little when he realized that there was no connection between Emory and the FBI agent’s unheralded visit to his sister.

“It was stupid of me to participate in the protest,” she was saying. “I realize that now, but I never thought it would merit national news coverage.”

“But you’ve changed your appearance.”

“Not enough to fool Eleanor, it seems.”

“I remember her. You two were close.”

“She had a mad crush on you, I think. Before…”

What she’d been about to say was before Westboro. Everything had changed after that, but it was a waste of time to discuss what they both already knew, and prudently they shouldn’t talk too long. Especially in light of Jack Connell’s recent reappearance. “You didn’t leave him alone, did you?”

“Only to go to the bathroom, and—before you panic—I listened at the door. He peed and washed up. He wasn’t in there long enough to do anything else. But I thoroughly checked the room after he left anyway.”

Good girl. “What did you two talk about for fifteen minutes?”

“He mentioned Salt Lake City. Texas and Kentucky, too.”

“I don’t suppose they were vacation destinations on his bucket list.”

“Don’t be cute. He asked what I knew about a soccer coach. I played dumb, but of course he didn’t buy it.”

No mention of North Carolina or even the region. No mention of an Atlanta physician who’d gone missing for four days. Breathing more easily, he switched subjects. “How’s Sarah?”

“We’ll get to her. How are you?”

“All right.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t bullshit me! You don’t sound right. Are you sick?”

“Healthy as a horse.”

“Then what’s going on?”

Rebecca had always been able to detect an evasion. A lie she could spot from a mile off. He should quit while he was ahead. “Look, I’d better go. Thanks for the heads-up about Connell.”

“I had to warn you. He’s still on your trail.”

“If he was hot on it, he wouldn’t be pestering you. One thing, though. You’re sure it was your friend who put him on to you? He might have been lying about that.”

“He wasn’t. I checked. After he left, I called Eleanor.”

Rebecca was scrupulous about covering her tracks, and thereby his tracks. It took him aback that she had reconnected with her friend in New York.