“You think he’s guilty?” Tawnia asked.
“Not at all. I mean, he’s just an ordinary guy. And standing up the agents a time or two wouldn’t likely hamper the investigation too much. I didn’t think he could possibly have any information of value.”
Autumn was leaning forward, her arms on the seat. “So what do you care that he didn’t show?”
“Well, he was the guy I gave a copy of the drawing to. He was supposed to pass it around. He knows everyone, and they trust him. Yet not one person has seen the drawing or him. That gets me worried.”
“He’s hiding something,” Autumn said.
“Maybe.”
“Do you know where he lives?” Tawnia asked. “It’s still early. We could stop by.”
Bret lifted a brow in surprise. “That’s a good idea. I know where he lives. Well, I have the address, at least. It’s a bit out of our way. Autumn, will you get my PDA from my jacket there? And look up Robert Glen in my addresses.”
“Let’s see.” Autumn went down the names. “Glen, Glen. There it is. Oh, I know where that address is, or at least the general area. I go to yard sales there. Lot of good stuff for cheap. I can get you near it, I think.”
On the drive to Robert’s, Bret’s eyes occasionally drifted from the road to Tawnia’s face. Her face wore a faint smile, and she was staring out the front window with a distracted, faraway look. Was she thinking of that firefighter?
“So what else did you guys do today?” he asked casually.
“Tawnia talked to the woman who took her to Kansas as a baby,” Autumn said, placing her hands on the front seat again. “We’re going to see her tomorrow. She says she has information that Tawnia needs to know about her mother—probably not exactly what we’re looking for, but we’re hoping to shock her into telling us more.”
“What if she’s a convict or something?” Tawnia said, turning toward them. “Or what if she left me a letter saying she never wanted me to contact her?”
“Well, you didn’t start this search because of her, did you?” Bret asked.
Tawnia’s mouth curved into a sad half smile. “You’re right. Somehow Autumn and I are connected, and that’s what’s most important. Yet . . .” She trailed off.
“It would be nice to know.” Autumn exchanged looks with Tawnia, a look that completely excluded him. That didn’t bother Bret as much as it once might have. When he was gone, it would be good for them to have each other.
The thought was so depressing he didn’t say another word. The girls chatted quietly, and he let their voices roll over him, soothing the something in him that ached.
“Uh, I think we’re lost,” he said after a while.
“That’s okay.” Autumn put a hand on the door. “Stop here, and I’ll ask that guy over there for directions. And don’t even give me that macho attitude about finding it on your own. I like meeting new people.”
Robert’s house turned out to be located in an older area, much like the neighborhood where Tawnia was renting, except that it wasn’t quite as well kept. Several houses badly needed paint, and the yards were overgrown. Not so with Robert’s house. His lawn was freshly mown, with the edging finished, and the house was attractive, though Bret didn’t think much of the blue door, standing in stark contrast to the white boards on the house.
“There’s a woman.” Autumn gestured toward the single garage, where a woman in gardening gloves was holding a shovel.
“It’s probably better for me to go alone. I’ll only be a minute.” Bret left the women in the car and hurried up the walk. “Hi,” he called out after only a few steps. “I’m looking for Robert Glen. I’m Bret Winn. From Nevada. I’ve been working with him this week. Does he live here?”
The woman wore shorts and a tank top that showed aging skin on her arms and legs. Her shoulder-length red hair was streaked with white and pulled back into a ponytail. She was older than Bret, probably older than Robert, too. But determining age had never been his forte. “He’s not home,” she said.
“You must be his sister.” Bret wracked his mind for her name. Nora? No, Noreen. He hoped. “Are you Noreen?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I am.”
“I can see that now. You and Robert have the same smile. I’m leaving town soon. I hoped I could see him.”
“Sorry. I’ll tell him you stopped by.”
“When do you expect him back?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s does what he wants. He’s a grown man. Sometimes he stays a few days with friends.”
“I see.”
She looked at her shovel, obviously expecting him to leave.
“I missed him at the county building today,” Bret said. “Like a movie, all those agents. He was pretty upset yesterday. That’s why I’m here. I’m worried about him.”
“Wasted his whole day, that’s what. But then the county is good at wasting other people’s time. When I worked for them, there was hardly a day that went by that they weren’t taking something from the workers. Seemed like, anyway.”
“You worked for them?”
“For fifteen years.”
“What happened?”
Her hand gripped her shovel more tightly, and Bret had the urge to step back out of range. “I’ll tell you what happened. The boss’s son needed a job—my job—so they fired me and gave it to him. Oh, they didn’t say so in so many words, of course. They said it was because I was late to work too many times and that I was drinking on the job. Bridge operators can’t drink, you know. But I never took a drop while on duty, and I wasn’t late more than the boss.” She glared at Bret as if everything were his fault.
“That stinks,” he commiserated. “The boy who took your place, he wasn’t Hanks, was he?”
She nodded. “Yep. And since then I haven’t had steady work. I got depression. If I didn’t have Robert, I would have starved. Robert’s a good brother.”
“He is a good man.” Bret tried to smile, but his mind was reeling with the knowledge that Alec Hanks had replaced Noreen. Was it possible that Robert had wanted to seek revenge? “Look,” he said, “I really need to talk to Robert. He should have my number already, but if he doesn’t, it’s on this card. Ask him to call me, okay? It’s important.”
“He didn’t do anything wrong.” Noreen’s voice was firm. “No matter what you might think.”
How had she jumped to that conclusion? “I didn’t say he did. Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“You should go.”
“Wait a minute. I have something to show you.” Bret sprinted to the car for a copy of the drawing and then back again. “Have you ever seen this woman?”
“No, I haven’t.” She was either telling the truth or she was the best liar he’d ever seen. Bret hoped she was being truthful. For Robert’s sake. “Robert showed me that already, you know. Said you gave it to him.” At least this proved Robert was showing the drawing to someone. Maybe the man simply hadn’t run into the people Bret had met today.
He thanked Noreen and took his leave. As he walked to the car, he drew out his cell and dialed Clay Hanks.
“Hello?”
“Hanks, it’s Bret Winn. Look, I know this is coming out of nowhere, but what do you remember about a Noreen Glen working for you possibly a year or two ago? At least I think her name was Glen. She was a bridge operator.”
“I remember her. Robert’s sister. We had to fire her for drinking.”
“Really?”
“It’s too dangerous letting someone who drinks operate the lift.”
“I understand that. But I’ve been looking for Robert and ran into Noreen. She’s saying she was fired so your son could have a job.”
Hanks barked a laugh. “The woman’s a mental case, a pathological liar. She was fired for incompetence. Nothing more. The fact that my son later took her job doesn’t mean anything.”
Bret had reached the car, but he didn’t open the door. Autumn rolled down the window, obviously not ashamed to eavesdrop.
“What it means,” Bret said, “is motive for revenge. Someone used your son, and like it or not, he’s in the middle of it. I know I said I’d wait, but you have to go to the FBI with the drawing—or I will. I think I know where to find the girl, but we’ll need them to pick her up.”
“I don’t want my son involved.”
“He’s already involved! Tell me what’s worse, having a drink on the job or leaving your post for an hour of flirting? I don’t know, because both could have the same result.”
Hanks cursed. “I should never have trusted you. Well, get this: you’re fired. You aren’t needed here anymore. I’ll clear it with the FBI, and if you go without a word, I won’t send a poor review to your boss.”
“Threaten me all you want, Hanks, but keep in mind that if you aren’t the one to go to the authorities, you probably won’t have your job by the time the dust settles.” Without waiting for a reply, Bret hung up.
Autumn stared at him flatly. “Care to explain?”
As they drove to the dance club, he told them about Noreen. “It doesn’t look good for Robert, but I’m having a hard time imagining him doing something like this. Killing all those people. It’s not like him.”
“How well do you really know him?” Autumn asked.
“I’m beginning to think that’s a good question.”
Tawnia’s face turned toward him. “So are you going to leave? I mean, if they’ve taken you off the job.”
He shrugged. “I was finished anyway. They don’t need me.”
Yet he didn’t want to go. In fact, he’d been thinking of asking for a few days of vacation, if his employer in Nevada could spare him further. Provided, of course, that he even had a job waiting for him after the fiasco with Hanks.
A hand on his arm drew him from his thoughts. “I’m proud of you for standing up to Hanks,” Tawnia said. “You did the right thing.”
He smiled. “Thanks.”
Chapter 21
As she predicted, Autumn had no problem getting into the club without shoes. Neither the cashier nor the bouncer so much as looked at their feet, though a man without a shirt was refused entry. “I told you so.” Autumn winked at Bret, and not for the first time he wondered what she’d thought about his exit last night. At the first chance, he should probably talk to her.
Probably. He was nervous about it, though, because he didn’t know how he felt about her. She was attractive and fun, and he didn’t mind her kookiness in the least, even if it might be hard to take her skiing. Did she wear shoes in the winter? Of course, the added bonus to a relationship with Autumn was that Christian didn’t stand between them.
“Let’s spread out,” Autumn suggested.
Bret drifted through the aromas of body odor and perfume that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. It seemed to come in waves, with one fragrance being stronger than the other for brief instances. People gyrated on the dance floor to the music, while others lined the walls, standing or sitting at tables with cups in their hands. The men ignored him as intently as the women seemed to watch him, their smiles inviting.
He quickly lost sight of Tawnia and Autumn, but after checking out the two largest rooms, he spotted Tawnia talking to a man on the far side. She was shaking her head and showing him the drawing. She walked away from the man, whose gaze followed her until she left the room.
Bret went back to work. He searched each face he passed, without success. Either the mysterious Sheree hadn’t arrived yet, or she looked far different from the drawing. Tawnia had disappeared entirely, but he came across Autumn at the bar showing the drawing. She motioned for him to approach.
“That bartender there says she comes in every weekend, sometimes twice, but he didn’t work last night and doesn’t know if she was here.” She’d barely finished the words when her left arm shot out and grabbed his. “Don’t turn around! Tawnia’s over there, and she just signaled me. Let’s drift apart and see if we can find the girl.”
Bret spied Tawnia, who was moving slowly toward the door. He followed her at a distance. In the first room, he saw the girl in the drawing standing by a friend. Her blonde hair reached halfway down her back, thick and long enough for three women her size. It was her only true beauty because her face was plain under the heavy makeup, and her short figure was sturdy and straight, as though she could hardly be bothered with a waist. The plunging neckline of her blouse did little to enhance her lack of curves. Bret nodded at Tawnia to signal that he’d seen her.
Tawnia came toward him. “Ask her to dance,” she whispered as she passed. “Then find out where she lives. Maybe ask her for a date tomorrow.”
Right. Easy for her to say. Why didn’t women realize how hard it was to ask a woman to dance, much less out on a date? Then again, maybe it was only difficult for him. Christian had never had a problem with it.
Christian bumped his shoulder. “Which one do you want to ask?”
“That girl with the dark hair. She’s really pretty.”
“Then go talk to her. Go on.”
“What if she says no?” Truth was, Bret had been far too busy with his college studies to attend any clubs in the past years. In fact, he hadn’t been to a dance since high school. He’d only come tonight because Christian had teased him into it.
“So what?” Christian said. “Then ask another one. There are millions of women in the world. That’s what makes it so much fun.”
Bret blew out his breath as he approached. Up close he could see the girl was wearing a lot of makeup, looking more like a child who had rummaged through her mother’s things than a woman in her own right. Like half the women at the club, her jeans were so low and form-fitting that her stomach puckered out over the waistband.
She glanced at him, and he began looking for the signs. If she walked away or turned her head, that meant they would have to come up with another plan. But she stared at him boldly, taking in his slacks and rolled-up sleeves with a whisper to her friend. She didn’t turn away.
“Want to dance?” He doubted she could hear him over the music, but she smiled and nodded.
The friend, a lovely dark-skinned girl with straightened hair, gave them a smile and flounced away, her hips weaving a path through the growing crowd.
Only when they reached the dance floor, did he realize how out of practice he was. The girl was shaking and moving all over the place like the young thing she was, and suddenly he felt every one of his thirty-five years. She couldn’t be more than twenty, if that. There was a whole lifetime separating them. She didn’t seem to mind, and neither did any of the other mismatched couples who were also dancing, but he was uncomfortable. What was this music, anyway? Something a bunch of gangsters threw together in their basement? There didn’t seem to be any words he could understand.
He caught sight of Tawnia and Autumn at the edge of the dancers. Autumn was dancing alone with fluid motions and seemed to be enjoying herself. Tawnia’s head bobbed in time to the beat, but she was pointing to her mouth, obviously wanting him to talk to the girl. How could he do that? He couldn’t even hear his own voice.
As he leaned toward her, a lock of her hair whipped over his mouth. The taste was awful. Probably hair spray or whatever women used these days. She stopped moving and swayed closer to him, her limbs brushing against him.
“So, what’s your name?” he yelled. “I’m, uh, Christian.” If she somehow did know Robert, she might have heard his name before.
“Sheree.” She looked at him with lowered lashes, a provocative look, he assumed, but it only made him uneasy.
“Where you from?”
“Portland.” She didn’t ask where he was from, which was just as well because he’d have to make something up.
“Whereabouts?” He hesitated a second before adding. “I mean, I’d like to call you. Or maybe we could go out. I could come over tomorrow.” Would she see right through him? In his world this approach was far too fast. Maybe she’d slap him or walk away.
She laughed and put her arms up around h
is neck, still moving back and forth to the beat. He smiled. Her hand pulled his head down to her mouth. “What’s wrong with tonight?” she breathed into his ear.
Bret looked toward Tawnia and Autumn, who were laughing aloud. Then he stiffened as he saw who was behind them, searching the dance floor with frantic sweeps of her head.
Noreen. Robert’s sister.
He guided Sheree behind some other dancers. “I have to go somewhere later,” he said. “In fact, I was thinking about leaving when I saw you.” He found his PDA in the pocket of his pants where he’d shoved it before leaving the car. “Well? Where do you live?” He hoped she wouldn’t give him just her number, which was really the sane thing to do. What if he was a serial rapist or something?
Sheree looked at the PDA and laughed. “You must be okay. I’ve never seen anyone here with one of those before.” She opened her mouth to say more, but Noreen appeared out of nowhere. She grabbed Sheree, screaming something in her ear. Sheree’s eyes widened a second before the two women ran.
Bret followed, hoping Tawnia and Autumn had seen what happened. He weaved through the dancers, occasionally losing sight of the women, but always finding them again. They were heading to the exit, running full speed now, ignoring the cursing that followed them as they plowed into people. The women ran past the surprised cashier and bouncer, and Bret followed more sedately, trying to hurry without appearing to do so. Once in the open, he was sure he could overtake them. Or at least follow them to their destination.
By the time he was outside, they had separated, and only Noreen was in sight. Bret veered off toward her, ducking behind cars to hide. Where had the other woman gone?
Noreen kept looking behind her, but she was moving slower now, obviously not aware that he was following. She went down the line of parked cars that had overflowed from the club’s lot. She found her keys and pressed the switch. Bret took that moment to come out from behind the cars.
“Wait, Noreen. Please!”
She lunged for her door, dragging it open.
“Wait,” he called again. “I just want to know where Robert is. Please. Maybe I can help!”
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