The 6:20 Man(118)

Campbell had texted him that their APB had so far turned up no leads on the man.

Where the hell are you, Will? Back in Moscow getting a medal from Putin?

He was about to go up to his room when the phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number but decided to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Devine?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Emily Spanner.”

“I’m afraid I don’t—”

“I’m Jill Tapshaw’s mother.”

“Oh, Mrs. Spanner, I’m sorry. I looked up the faculty at Caltech but didn’t see a Tapshaw listed. So I just left a message on the department receptionist’s voice mail for Professor Tapshaw.”

“It’s all right. Spanner is my maiden name. That’s happened before and I finally got your message. But what has happened? Is Jill okay?”

“She’s fine. There was a gas leak in our town house. I’m one of her roommates. But we all got out okay. They took Jill to the hospital for observation, but the last time I checked she was fine.”

“Oh my God, I had no idea. You’re sure she’s in no danger?”

Devine wasn’t quite sure how to answer that, since it was clear someone had tried to kill them. Or maybe just me. But he didn’t want to unduly worry the woman.

“No, she’s fine. Really.”

“Do you think I should come out there?”

“From a health perspective I don’t think it’s necessary, but I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

“I’m not too sure about that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s just family issues, Mr. Devine. We’re all dysfunctional in our own way.”

Devine thought of his own family. Truer words were never spoken. “I didn’t have any contact info on Jill’s father, or even his first name.”

“George is in Canada. We’re divorced.”

“And I couldn’t find any contact information for your son.”

“Dennis?”

“Yes, I thought Jill’s twin might want to know about what happened to her, too.”

“I’m sure he would have.”

“Would have?”

“Dennis is dead. He passed away nearly nine months ago.”

“Oh my God, I had no idea. Jill never mentioned that.”

“Does Jill have her phone with her in the hospital? Can I call her?”

“No, but I can get it and take it to her.”

“That would be very nice, thank you. And thank you for contacting me.”

“Jill is a really wonderful person. She works really hard.”

“Yes, Hummingbird has been her dream for a while now.”

“It’s been very successful.”

“She could be working anywhere, you know, with her skills and mind. She could be teaching at UPenn or Stanford.”

“But this makes her happy. Bringing people together.”

“Yes, I suppose it does. Well, thank you again for letting me know.”

“Sure, thanks for the call back. And I’ll get Jill’s phone to her.”

“I appreciate that. Goodbye.”

Devine put his phone back in his pocket. Why hadn’t Tapshaw mentioned that her twin was dead? But then again, he hadn’t really talked to his roommates about his family. Still, he wondered how Dennis Tapshaw had died.

He climbed the stairs to Tapshaw’s room and went inside. A search of her things revealed no phone. He wondered if she had left it at work. He’d noticed that she hadn’t had it with her at the bar.

He looked around and saw a set of keys on a brown file folder. He picked them up and saw her car key on there. There was another key on there, too, but he knew it wasn’t to the office. She used an electronic security card to get into her space like they did at Cowl and Comely. He knew that because she had taken him for a tour once and had used her security card to get in.

He had a sudden thought and went down to the garage and unlocked her Mini Cooper. He searched through it and found the RFID card in the console. This should get him into the office okay. He decided he might as well drive her car the short distance to the office rather than firing up his motorcycle. He also searched the car to make sure she hadn’t left the phone in here. But he didn’t find it. He called the phone to see if it had perhaps slipped down between the seat and the console, but he heard no ringing or vibrating.

There were some stains on the front seat that he wiped away with his hand. Tapshaw was not the cleanest or most organized person in the world. When they had ridden over to the bar in her car, he had been in the backseat with Valentine. His feet had been resting on top of mountains of old fast-food containers and used Starbucks coffee cups. And her car’s interior smelled like a Dumpster.

He drove over to the strip of shops where Hummingbird was headquartered. The RFID card did its magic and the door unlocked. He went inside and flicked on the lights. Since Tapshaw had given him a tour through the office he knew the layout.

There was a large, open work area with a dozen computer screens flashing the Hummingbird home page, smartboards on the walls, desks and iPads and stacks of papers and marketing materials and files, copier machines, a water dispenser, a small kitchen and bathroom, and everything else one would normally see in an office.