Lost and Found

by Allison Brennan

  “So, he has a gambling problem?” R.J. asked.

  “Let’s just say he likes the ponies. Can’t really blame him.”

  “We’re not after money,” R.J. said. “We just need to talk to him.”

  Johnny stabbed a sausage link. “About what?”

  “A mutual friend.”

  Krista mustered a smile. “You have any idea where we can find him?”

  Johnny looked her over, a more pensively now. She’d said “find” not “reach,” and she figured any repo man worth his salt would know what she meant. They didn’t want to call him up; they wanted to corner him into having a conversation.

  “She a P.I. too?” he asked R.J.

  “We’re partners.”

  Krista shot R.J. a look, but he wasn’t paying attention.

  “I haven’t seen him.” Johnny leaned back in his seat. “But I can tell you this. If he doesn’t want to be found, you won’t find him.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” Krista said. “We’re pretty good at finding people.”

  “Jared’s better.” He smiled, flashing the tooth again. “The kid used to work for me. I taught him every trick in the book, plus a few I invented. If he skipped out on a debt, you can kiss that money good-bye.”

  “It’s not about money,” Krista said, getting annoyed. “We just need to speak with him.”

  “About a mutual friend.”

  She nodded.

  “You must mean Riley Campbell, his girlfriend who split town a while back.” He looked at R.J., who managed not to show any response. “Am I right?”

  “How do you know Riley?” R.J. asked.

  He smiled at Krista. “I’m good at reading people. Comes in handy in my job.”

  A waitress came over to refill his coffee mug, and she got the tooth flash, too, along with wink. After she left, Johnny looked at R.J.

  “Great waitresses here, and I always leave big tips. Tipping’s important. I tell my guys, you gotta take care of people. It’s key to any business.”

  Krista huffed out a breath. “Do you know where we can find Riley?”

  “No, but she won’t be any easier than Jared. I’m sure he taught her all the tricks in the business.” He peered around Krista. “And speaking of business, my collateral just showed up.”

  Krista turned to see a black Mustang pulling into the funeral home parking lot. Two young men climbed out, both in dark suits. They had flowers pinned to their lapels, like maybe they were pallbearers.

  She turned to Johnny with a scowl. “What do you do, read the obituaries?”

  He slid from the booth and tossed a few bills on the table. “Simple Google search. He’s listed as one of the survivors.”

  “Very classy.”

  He winked at her. “Hey, it’s nothing personal, honey. Business is business.” He offered R.J. a handshake. “Good to see you again, my man.”

  Krista sat back against the booth, feeling like she’d been slimed. She’d come in here craving breakfast, but she’d definitely lost her appetite now.

  She and R.J. returned to the parking lot and slid into the Porsche. They watched as the purple tow truck snorted to life and oozed across the parking lot.

  “Unbelievable,” she muttered. “He’s really going to tow that poor guy’s car while he’s at a funeral?”

  “Yep.”

  “What a sleazebag.”

  “Best repo man in SoCal. Guy makes a fortune.”

  Krista shook her head. After years in the business, she should be immune to it, but she still couldn’t believe people operated this way.

  R.J. glanced at her. “I think he liked you.”

  “Oh, joy. Can’t wait to add him to my contacts.”

  “You should. He’s useful.”

  “Are you kidding? He told us nothing. We just wasted an hour coming over here and we didn’t even get a cup of coffee out of it.”

  R.J. glanced at her as he started the Turbo. “He told me where to find Jared.”

  “What? When?”

  “He just texted me.”

  “Just now?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why would he do that after stonewalling us?”

  “Because I slipped him a hundred when he left. Didn’t you hear what he said about tipping?”

  “I can’t believe you gave that jerk a hundred dollars.”

  “Nothing personal, honey. Business is business.”

  Chapter Three

  R.J. dialed a number and tossed the phone in Krista’s lap. “Put it on speaker, would you?”

  She bit back a retort and dutifully put it on speaker as a male voice answered.

  “Hey, I need you to meet me at the Huntington Beach Pier,” R.J. said.

  “When?”

  “ASAP. And bring the truck.”

  “You got it.”

  “Anything new since earlier?”

  “Nope, nothing.”

  The call ended, and Krista tossed the phone back at him.

  “Who was that?”

  “Brian.” He looked at her. “You met him on that case for Drake Walker.”

  Krista remembered R.J.’s freckle-faced younger cousin. She’d thought he’d only been in town visiting, but maybe the sand and the surf and the beach bunnies had enticed him to stay.

  “So, Brian’s working for you?”

  “Here and there,” R.J. said. “Turns out he’s pretty good on computers, so I’ve been using him. Now he’s talking about maybe getting his P.I. license.”

  “And why do we need the truck?”

  “Jared Burris works at a brake place in Garden Grove. We’re going to need something a little more low profile.”

  Low profile. Right. Nothing about R.J. was low profile. R.J. turned heads, and it didn’t matter what he drove.

  “You realize it’s almost eleven, right?” He looked at her.

  “And that means…?”

  “You’re a thousand dollars in, and I still haven’t found her. You getting nervous yet?”

  Nervous. With R.J.

  She avoided his gaze by glancing out the window at the pedestrian traffic on Main Street. It was a chilly January day and the sidewalks were packed with young people in ripped jeans and sweatshirts. She spotted a few in wetsuits with boards under their arms. Only the die-hard surfers would be out today.

  “Krista?”

  She looked at him. “You’ll find her.”

  “No doubt. But I should point out—as much as I like your company—that I can do this by myself. You are paying me, you know.”

  “It’s okay.” She tried to sound nonchalant, like the money meant nothing. “It’s good, actually.”

  “Good because you’re learning something? ’Cause it’s fine by me if you want to continue this little apprenticeship we’ve got going.”

  She shot him a look. “Yeah, I’m not your apprentice. Or your partner, either.”

  “Too bad. Business is booming. I’m thinking of expanding.”

  She gazed out the window, trying not to react. He knew her business was limping along right now, and he was just trying to needle her. They’d always been competitive.

  “What? Not interested?”

  She glanced at him. “I wouldn’t work for you in a million years.”

  “What do you mean? We worked a case together last month.”

  “Together. And it was temporary. I would never work for you. You’re much too controlling.”

  “Scarlet’s controlling.”

  “But Scarlet’s not my boss. We’re partners.”

  He darted a look at her. “So, you’re saying you want an equal stake.”

  “I didn’t say that at all.”

  “No, I think you did.” He pulled up to a parking meter and cut the engine.

  “You’re impossible.” She turned to face him. “This is exactly why I wouldn’t ever work for you. Or even partner with you.”

  “What’s that?” He leaned closer.

  “It makes everything complicated. And messy.
”

  “I like messy.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You might, too, if you’d give it a chance.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, and even though she’d seen it coming, it still caught her off balance. Kissing R.J. was like that. All logical thought evaporated and she was left with just… heat. From his tongue and his lips and his hands.

  He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer until she was stretched across the console, almost in his lap. He tasted like coffee and chocolate and all the delicious dreams she’d been having while he was out of town. And she didn’t want to think about that right now because he really, really knew how to kiss, and she wanted to savor it.

  He pulled back, and she blinked up at him, dazed.

  “Here we go,” he whispered.

  “Huh?”

  “He’s here.”

  #

  R.J. pulled his black Ford F-250 into a gas station down the street from Sam’s Brake Stop. It was a busier operation than Krista had expected, with five service bays and at least half a dozen mechanics in gray coveralls.

  “You look worried,” R.J. said.

  “I’m trying to come up with a pretext. If he thinks I’m a cop or even an ex-cop, he won’t talk to me.”

  “Say you used to work at Angelino’s with Riley.”

  She gave him a baleful look. “No one’s going to believe I worked at a strip club.”

  “I’d believe it.”

  “Right.” She was a B-cup, max, and that was with a push-up bra.

  “It’s all how you use it,” R.J. said. “And you’ve got to have the attitude.”

  “Forget it. Think of something else.”

  “I’ll leave that to you.” R.J. glanced around. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll fuel up the truck and then pull around back where I can keep an eye on things. After you finish with Jared, walk over to the convenience store here and then exit out the back near the restrooms.”

  “What if he stonewalls me?”

  “He probably will. It doesn’t matter. It’s not what he says, it’s what he does.”

  Krista cast a glance at the brake place and took a deep breath. She pulled off her Billabong T-shirt, stripping down to only a black spaghetti-strap tank top. She arranged her boobs; tousled her wispy, blond hair; and pulled a lip gloss from her purse for a few quick swipes. It was a neutral color, but better than nothing.

  She flipped down the mirror and checked herself out. “How do I look?”

  “Like you just rolled out of bed.”

  She shot him a glare and shoved open the door. “The bartender from Angelino’s. What’s his name?”

  “Courtney.”

  Of course. No wonder R.J.’s little fact-finding mission had been a success.

  “Go get ‘em, Ace.”

  Krista slid from the truck. “Keep your phone close.”

  #

  Krista approached the brake shop with a nervous flutter in her stomach. She’d never liked car places. She always felt like a rabbit being circled by hungry wolves intent on devouring both her and her credit card. She’d started going to Scarlet’s brother whenever she had car problems because he talked straight with her and could usually diagnose what was wrong, sometimes even offering to fix it for free.

  She passed the service bays, acutely aware of all the male gazes following her as she pulled open the door to the office. The place smelled like tires. Several beer-bellied men lounged around a large TV watching ESPN and scrolling through phones.

  Krista approached the counter, where a bearded man in gray coveralls—who had a certain wolf-like quality—eyed her with skepticism, probably because she’d shown up on foot.

  Krista smiled. “I’m looking for Jared Burris.”

  Annoyance flickered in his eyes. He turned toward the open door behind him.

  “Yo, Jared!”

  No answer. Just the clang of metal and the loud staccato of power tools.

  The man sighed and leaned his head out. “Yo, where’s Burris?”

  Krista strained to hear the muffled reply, and the guy stepped back.

  “He’s on break,” he told her. “Try around back.”

  She exited the office and walked around the side of the building, where she found a lanky man in coveralls slouched against the building with a cigarette. He straightened when he saw her.

  “Jared?” she asked, even though the name was helpfully stitched across his pocket. “Courtney said you were working here.” She smiled and sashayed up to him. “I’m Krista Hart.”

  He looked blank.

  “Riley’s friend? We worked together at Angelino’s a few years back.”

  His gaze dropped to her boobs.

  “We waited tables together. Listen, I’m trying to reach Riley. You seen her around lately?”

  He tossed his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. “Nope.”

  “You have her number? I’d like to get in touch with her.”

  “Why?” He folded his arms over his chest and suddenly looked protective.

  She smiled again. “I’m working in the bar at the Yacht Club now. Down in Long Beach? Much better tips. They have an opening, and I wanted to tell Riley about it, so… you know where’s she’s working now or—?”

  “Nope.”

  “Hmm. Maybe one of your mutual friends might know?”

  “I haven’t seen Riley or her friends in years. We didn’t exactly end on good terms.”

  She sighed. “Bummer.”

  He just stared at her.

  “Well… you think you could ask around, see if anyone’s heard from her? How about I get your phone number, then I can check back in a couple days?”

  He looked at her for a long moment. “How about you give me yours?”

  “Sure. Yeah.”

  He took out a cell phone and waited. Krista rattled off the number of a burner phone she had, and he entered it into his contacts.

  “Thanks! I really appreciate it. It’s a really good job lead, so”—she smiled brightly—“so thanks!”

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  She turned around and felt his gaze burning into her back as she walked away. When she finally entered the convenience store, she blew out a sigh.

  Total bust.

  She made a beeline for the candy aisle and bought a Mars Bar to console herself. For R.J., who took care of his gorgeous physique, she bought a bottle of mineral water. When she slid back into the pickup, he was on his phone.

  “Yeah.” He glanced at her. “Okay, keep on it.” He ended the call and looked at her expectantly. “How’d it go?”

  “Crashed and burned. He knew I was a cop.”

  “You’re not a cop.”

  “He knew I was something.”

  “Did you get a phone number at least? We can run it for an address.”

  “No. I told you, it was a disaster. He made me in the first two seconds.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” R.J. said.

  “I definitely think I spooked him, though. Which makes me think he has something to hide. Or Riley does and they’re still in touch.”

  Krista chomped into the candy bar. R.J. watched her, then reached for the water bottle and twisted off the cap.

  “Who was on the phone?” she asked.

  “Brian. He’s running down some other angles.” R.J. fired up the truck. “Hey, check it out. White Silverado.”

  Krista followed his gaze across the street. “No way. Is that him?”

  “Yep.”

  “And he’s leaving already? Is he really that clueless?”

  “Maybe he’s overconfident.”

  Krista swiveled in her seat. “Are you sure it’s him?”

  “Employees park in the side lot. While you were in there, I ran the plates on all six vehicles. Silverado came back to Joe Burris. I’m guessing that’s Jared’s brother or maybe his dad.”

  Krista stared in disbelief as the Silverado pulled out.

  “Now we know one thing for sure.” R.J. backed o
ut of the space. “He’s definitely spooked.” R.J. pulled into traffic and gunned the engine.

  Krista stuffed the candy bar into her purse and glanced around. “Lot of traffic. But still you need to be careful. God, slow down!”

  He raced through a yellow light as Krista clutched the door.

  “Roll up that window,” R.J. ordered.

  Krista rolled up the window as he switched lanes to pass a delivery truck. The Silverado eased into the right lane. Up ahead was a sign for Interstate Five.

  “He might be going for the freeway,” Krista said.

  R.J. hit the gas again, and they sailed through another yellow.

  “Slow down,” she said. “Don’t you know how to run a tail?”

  He ignored her, changing lanes again to pass a pickup doing a sluggish forty in a thirty-five. The Silverado was now only three car lengths ahead.

  “He’s going to see us, R.J.”

  He kept his speed constant. The Silverado changed lanes. R.J. did, too.

  “R.J., hang back.”

  He glanced at her and eased off the gas. But only a little.

  “Do you really think he’ll lead us straight to Riley?” she asked. “Why wouldn’t he just call her?”

  “You already said why. He made you for a cop. Which means he’s probably worried you could trace his phone.”

  The Silverado hung a right. R.J. followed. It was five car lengths ahead now. R.J. sped up, and Krista looked at him.

  “Seriously, be careful. We can’t blow this lead.”

  “I’m not.”

  The light ahead turned yellow. The Silverado made it through.

  R.J. punched the gas and swerved around a car. Drivers honked. Krista’s heart lurched.

  “R.J.!”

  “Hold on.”

  He sped forward, racing through the red light. Krista glanced out his window as the big silver truck grille zoomed toward them.

  Chapter Four

  Krista screamed. Horns blared. R.J. stomped the gas just in time to miss being T-boned, then swerved around another car. Krista’s stomach did a flip-flop, and she cast a glance over her shoulder to see what sort of mayhem they’d left in their wake.

  Miraculously, no wrecks.

  She clutched her hand to her chest and tried to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding. She looked ahead as the white pickup hung a right and disappeared from view. R.J. raced to catch it, veering around a garbage truck and then taking a turn at full speed. The tires squealed, and Krista gripped the door handle as they fishtailed onto the new street.