by Jeff Shelby
Kitting cleared his throat and edged closer to Mikey.
Mikey’s lips twisted for a moment, then he shrugged again, full of arrogance and disinterest. “Yo, she was like all of them. A little freaked out, but not sure what to do. She was crying. Looking around. Some go looking for a cop or a rent-a-cop. She didn’t.”
Anger percolated in my gut. His ambivalence toward her was maddening. I knew he didn’t know the full story, but he was the kind of asshole who wouldn’t have cared, anyway. He was just looking for the quick score and didn’t care what the result was.
“Where’d she go then?” I asked.
“Shit, I don’t know, dude,” he said, rolling his one good eye. “I just had to make sure Jess got clear. I didn’t babysit the bitch.”
My right fist struck his left eye flush, my knuckles cracking against his eye socket. He stumbled backward and fell against the car, then down to the curb.
Lauren touched my arm and Kitting dropped the shades from his head to his eyes, but no one else moved.
“Get up,” Anchor said.
Mikey lolled around for a moment, caught between the car and the curb. He pushed himself to his knees and got up slowly. The good eye, the one that I’d hit, was now swelling and there was another cut on the bridge of his nose, a slow trickle of blood dancing out of it.
“I believe a question was asked. Where did Mr. Tyler’s daughter go after she exited the restroom?” Anchor asked, staring at Mikey.
The arrogance was gone from Mikey, his shoulders slumped, his posture sagging, his bottom lip quivering. He wasn’t nearly as tough as he wanted to be.
“She stood outside the bathroom for a minute,” he said quietly. “Then she walked toward security. Then she turned around and went back toward the bathroom. She sat down at a table at the donut place. She was still crying. She put her head down on the table. That’s when I bolted.”
The image of Elizabeth, alone and crying by herself at a table in some food court, pierced me and it took a moment to catch my breath. If I’d been alone with Mikey, he wouldn’t have walked away. I was ready to empty every ounce of my anger into him.
“The money,” Anchor said. “You have the money from the purse.”
Mikey started to reach for his back pocket, then stopped. “It’s in my pocket. I can reach for it?”
Anchor nodded.
Mikey pulled a wad of cash out of his back pocket and held it out to Anchor. Anchor nodded at me and Mikey frowned, then held it out to me.
I took it and counted it out. Four hundred bucks.
“Take anything else out of it?” I asked, handing the money to Lauren. “Credit card? Anything?”
He shook his head. “Cash only. I don’t mess with credit cards. And there wasn’t nothing else in there to take.”
I looked at Lauren. She dropped the money in the bag and closed it up, then put it over her shoulder.
“Why’d you use the phone?” I said.
He scowled, his entire face wrinkling up with irritation. “I didn’t. Jess did. Which we don’t ever do. But she had to call her friend and tell her about the score.” The irritation faded. “Four hundred was biggest score in awhile. She was bragging.”
Anchor tilted his head toward Kitting.
“That’s accurate,” Kitting said. “Girl confirmed and I checked with the friend. Nothing there.”
Anchor nodded, then looked at me. “Anything else?”
I shook my head.
Anchor opened the door and Mikey slinked back into the car. Anchor closed the door behind him, then walked over to Kitting. They exchanged several words, Kitting nodded and headed for the driver’s side of the Escalade. We stood there silently as the SUV pulled away from the curb.
“I’m sorry there wasn’t more information to be had,” Anchor said. “But at least you have her belongings back.”
I nodded.
“Can I ask a question?” Lauren said.
“Certainly.”
“Do I want to know what your guy is going do with them now?” she asked.
Anchor chuckled, pulled his phone from his pocket and began thumbing away at the screen. “You make it sound so sinister.”
“In some ways, it sort of feels like it is,” she answered.
Anchor made a non-committal shrug. “Perhaps.” He put the phone back in his pocket. “They served their purpose. We have no further interest in them and we don’t need to draw any attention their way or ours. Ellis will return them home safely.”
Lauren exhaled.
“But they will be reminded that they never saw us or met us or had this conversation,” Anchor added.
“How does that happen?” Lauren asked.
Anchor smiled. “You don’t want to know, Ms. Tyler.”
TWENTY-THREE
“Do you want to see what’s in here?” Lauren asked.
We were sitting in the hotel bar. It was late and most of the tables were empty. A group of businessmen sat at the bar, nursing drinks and watching ESPN on the TV mounted on the wall. Anchor had excused himself and told us he’d be back in an hour. He didn’t say where he was going and we didn’t ask. We’d gone to the bar, both of us claiming to be hungry, but judging by the picked over food on our plates, we weren’t starving.
Now, she had Elizabeth’s bag open.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
“There’s nothing crazy in here.”
“That’s fine. But I don’t think so.”
She set the bag on her lap. “Why not?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It just freaks me out.”
“Why?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I said. I picked up a French fry but didn’t eat it. “I just don’t want to see. It doesn’t feel good to me.”
She stared across the table at me. “It makes me feel closer to her. To see what’s in here. To see her driver’s license, her lipstick. Brings her to me.”
I nodded. “Good. I’m glad. It’s just different for me.”
She nodded, but I wasn’t sure she understood. I wasn’t sure I did, either, but I thought it was tied to getting my hopes up. I’d been burned too many times before and I wasn’t going to let the thread of hope I was clinging to morph into anything more. Not yet. I needed to keep some distance.
“Anchor scares the shit out of me,” Lauren said. “If I hadn’t already mentioned that.”
“He’s on our side,” I reminded her. “That’s all that matters.”
She toyed with her fork, moving around pieces of lettuce in her salad bowl. “You think he would’ve killed that guy if he’d lied to us?”
I thought for a moment. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Are you okay with that? With working with someone like that?”
I pulled my napkin from my lap and tossed it on my plate. “Being okay with it has nothing to do with it. He can help us. That’s all I care about.”
“So if he had intimated he was going to kill that guy, you would’ve let it go?” she asked.
“It’s irrelevant,” I said. “He’s not going to kill him. Probably going to kick the crap out of him. Scare him. But that’s it. So it’s irrelevant.”
“I’m asking hypothetically.”
I leaned over the table. “Look, that kid was a scumbag. Who knows what else he’s done to people? He had zero problem stealing from our daughter and leaving her high and dry. He wasn’t sorry, even with Anchor and Kitting standing there. He didn’t care and he’ll run the same game tomorrow. And all I care about is getting Elizabeth back safely. Anchor can help us do that. So do I give a shit if Mikey or some guy like him ends up being collateral damage? No. I don’t. All I care about is finding Elizabeth. That’s it.”
My words came out sharper than I intended, but I meant everything I said. I didn’t care about anyone else, especially some piece of crap thief. And I didn’t have a problem working with Anchor or Kitting, as long as they could get me closer to Elizabeth. I’d come too far to start worrying about the gray ethica
l areas we might or might not have been entering.
Lauren laid her own napkin on the table. “Okay.”
“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bite your head off,” I said. “But she’s the only thing I care about.”
She pursed her lips. “I could never care about just one thing.”
“I know that.”
She started to say something, then stopped. Then she looked at her watch. “He’s going to be back soon. Can we run back up to the room really quick?”
I nodded. “Sure.” I signed my name to the check and we headed to the elevator on the other side of the lobby. We stepped into the car and she punched the number of our floor and the doors closed.
She circled her arm around mine. “I’m not judging. I swear I’m not. This is just a different world for me, Joe.”
“I know that.”
“And I’m glad you’re the way you are,” she said, looking at me. “You’re the reason we’re going to find her. I don’t need to understand it all. As long as you do, I’ll be alright with everything.”
The doors opened and we walked down the long hallway to the room. I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t sure there was anything to say.
Lauren slid the key card into the door, the lock clicked and she pushed on the door.
There was a loud beeping noise that we both heard immediately.
Her hands went to her pockets. “Jesus. That’s my phone. I left it in here when we were hurrying to get out of here.” She strode across the dark room while I fumbled with the light switch. The phone was laying on the table and she picked it up.
“It’s Morgan. A text.”
Blood pulsed in my ears.
Lauren touched the screen. “She has a number.”
“Did she send it?”
“She says to call her.”
“Do it. Now.”
She already had the phone to her ear. “Morgan, it’s Lauren Tyler. Can you talk?” She pulled the phone from her ear and touched the screen. “Can you hear me?”
“Yeah, I can,” Morgan said. “I texted you like half an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Lauren said. “I left my phone in a hotel room.” She shook her head in disgust, like she couldn’t believe she’d been so careless.
“You have a number, Morgan?” I asked.
“She got another phone,” Morgan said. “One of those pay-as-you-go thingies. I don’t know how they work.”
“Give us the number,” I said, grabbing the small scratch pad and pen from the table.
Morgan recited it and I wrote it down.
“Did she say where she was?” I asked.
“No,” she said, the tone of her voice changing.
“Why not?”
“I tried to reason with her,” she said. “I told her I talked to you guys.”
I winced. “Okay.”
“And I think she was afraid I’d tell you. And she was totally serious. She doesn’t want to see you right now.”
My stomach sank.
“There’s something else,” Morgan said.
Lauren and I stayed silent, staring at the phone.
“She saw a postcard,” Morgan said. “In a drugstore or something. Of some blue bridge in San Diego.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“She thinks she’s supposed to go there,” she said. “She said it felt familiar.”
“Was she going there? Tonight?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “She kept saying tomorrow.”
Lauren sat down on the foot of the bed, steadying herself with her hands.
“And she wouldn’t say where she is tonight?”
“No.”
“Okay,” I said. “That’s alright. This is all good. Is she going to call you back?”
“Yeah,” Morgan said. “I made her promise.”
I made a fist. “Good. When?”
“Before she goes to sleep,” she said. “Tonight. I told her that I needed to know she had a place to sleep for the night and the only way I wouldn’t call you guys was if she promised to call me.”
“That’s great, Morgan,” I said. “That’s a great job.”
“Thanks, I guess.” Her voice faltered a bit. “I don’t like lying to her.”
“You’re helping her. Think of it that way.”
“I guess.”
“Here’s the deal,” I said. “Stay close to your phone. We’re going to try and track down the phone. We might need your help. I’ll call you back. If you haven’t heard from me by the time she calls, make sure you call us the second you hang up with her. And if you can find out where she’s at, even better.”
“Okay. I’ll try.”
“I’ll talk to you soon,” I said, and we hung up.
Lauren was sitting ramrod straight on the bed.
I set the phone down on the table. “You okay?”
She shook her head. “No. Not really.”
I sat down next to her. “Talk to me.”
“I’m scared,” she said. “Scared what’s going to happen to her. Scared she’s in danger. Scared she’s going to think all of this is our fault. Scared she won’t love us anymore.”
“It’ll be okay,” I said, putting my arm around her.
She rested her head on my shoulder. “You don’t know that, Joe. You don’t know that.”
She was right. I didn’t know that.
But I wanted to believe it.
TWENTY-FOUR
“I have the number,” I said to Anchor.
I’d sat with Lauren for a few moments, then dialed Anchor.
“Can you give it to me?” he asked.
I read the number off the paper.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m on my way back to you now. I’ll go to work on this as I drive. I’ll pick you and Ms. Tyler up in front of the hotel in twenty-five minutes.”
We hung up.
“He’s on his way,” I said. “He wants us to meet him downstairs in a little bit.”
“Let’s go down now,” she said, standing from the bed. “It feels claustrophobic up here.”
We went back downstairs and sat down on a bench outside the front entrance. The air had cooled a little, a breeze blowing in from the ocean, and I breathed in the salty air. Jet fuel drifted in the air from the planes, and, even at that late hour, cars traveled quickly up and down the airport road, either trying to get to, or away, from LAX.
“Where are we going when he gets here?” Lauren asked.
“He didn’t say.”
“Where was he?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Lovely.
“I feel like I should call the Corzines,” I said. “See if anyone’s made contact with them.”
“You mean Mike?”
“Or anyone else. At least we’d know if there was anyone on our heels.”
“We’re this close,” Lauren said. “I’m not sure anyone could beat us to her at this point.”
“But if she finds her way to Coronado…”
“…we can get there, too.”
“I suppose,” I said. “I’d just like to know.”
We sat there for a few minutes, watching the late-night traffic. A hotel shuttle pulled up and a couple with a little girl stepped off. They looked weary, jet-lagged, but the mother still offered a small smile as they walked past us on their way toward the entrance to the hotel’s lobby. I couldn’t take my eyes off the girl. She looked liked Elizabeth.
She disappeared through the double doors of the hotel, trailing a Disney suitcase behind her. I felt my stomach clench. We’d never gone anywhere on a plane as a family. We’d stayed close to San Diego. She’d never been on a late-night adventure, exhausted and excited like the little girl I’d just seen. I shook my head. One more memory that had been robbed from us before we could even make it.
“What’s wrong?” Lauren asked.
“Nothing,” I said.
A dark red sedan pulled into the lot and cr
awled slowly through the registration area and I was grateful for the distraction.
“This might be Anchor,” I said.
The tinted windows didn’t allow us to see inside.
The car pulled to a halt in front of us.
We both stood.
The driver’s side door opened.
And my blood ran cold.
“Joe, Lauren,” Lieutenant Leonard Bazer said. “Nice to see you.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Even at that late hour, Bazer was in uniform. The joke around the station was that he didn’t own anything else to wear, as no one had ever seen him in anything but the uniform of the Coronado Police Department. His pale gray eyes surveyed us, no expression on his face. Tall, still not an ounce of fat on him, and a clean shaven head. He hadn’t aged a day in the decade since I’d last told him to go to hell.
He held out his hand to me. “Joe.”
I kept my hands at my sides. “Hey, Len.”
He cracked a smile, but I knew he didn’t think it was funny. He didn’t like to be addressed as anything other than Lieutenant. But he was no longer my lieutenant. He hadn’t been since the day he’d hung me out to dry and fed me to the media as a suspect in my own daughter’s disappearance.
“Lauren,” he said, turning to her. “It’s been awhile.”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything.
He dropped his unwanted hand. “You two look well.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, unable to contain my anger at seeing him again. My antennae were up, on guard. Forget the fact that I hated his guts. I was more concerned as to how he’d found us.
And what he wanted.
“I saw the report,” Bazer said. “About Elizabeth.”
“Did you?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes. This morning.”
“And then you just magically found us?” I asked. “Showed up here at the curb?”
His mouth set in a flat line. “No, no magic. I saw the report. I made some calls. Heard you had some trouble in Denver. Made a few more calls. Led me here.”
“Bullshit,” I said, shaking my head. “A couple of phone calls doesn’t get you right here.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “I was able to obtain Elizabeth’s name. I was able to check the flight manifests. I figured if she was here in Los Angeles, you weren’t far behind.”