“You know, if you’re looking for something else new, I’ve got friends around the industry, and could probably pull a few strings. It wouldn’t be what you’ve done in the past, but it would have to be better than working in a garage.”
“I like the garage, Ruth. But thanks.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment.
“So, are you calling just to say hi?” she asked.
“I’m calling because…” He paused. “Because I need a favor.”
“You are trying to get me in trouble.”
“It’s not a big deal. I just need a license plate checked.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Someone piss you off and you’re trying to track them down?”
“Something like that.”
“What’s the number?”
Logan gave her the plate number of the sedan he’d chased out of Cambria, then told her his cell number since it was different from the one he used to have.
“Mine’s still the same,” she said. “But don’t use it unless it’s an emergency, and, please, don’t call me on the office phone again.”
“In other words, don’t call you?”
“It would be better if
“I understand. I appreciate the help, Ruth.”
“You’re welcome.” She paused, not hanging up, then said, “I’m…I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch.”
“I haven’t been in touch either.”
“Yeah, but…well…sorry.”
He could sense she wanted to say something more, but before she could he said, “I’ll wait for your call,” then hung up.
10
Traffic began building up on Washington Boulevard as Logan neared the ocean. It seemed strange to him. As far as he could tell, the area was mainly residential, so he figured most of the cars at that time of morning should have been heading in the other direction. But the closer he got to Pacific Avenue, the more congested it became. Then, two blocks short of where he’d been planning to turn, he came to a complete stop.
After the car in front of him made a U-turn and headed back in the other direction, he decided to do the same, then turned on the first side street he saw and parked. From there, it was only a few minutes walk to Aaron’s place.
Before he reached the intersection with Pacific, the reason for the delay became clear. Two police cars were pulled across the road, blocking off Pacific Avenue north of Washington.
Logan felt a tingling sensation at the back of his neck, and picked up his pace. When he reached the corner, he spotted several emergency vehicles parked just down the block. He could also see half a dozen fire fighters rolling up hoses and packing equipment back onto their trucks, their work apparently done.
Like the street, the sidewalk that ran in front of Aaron’s place was also blocked, but the one on the other side only had a small area taped off directly across from the fire trucks. Some people were gathered along the part that was clear, watching the action, so Logan headed there.
In his gut, he already knew what he was going to see, and he wasn’t disappointed. Where Aaron’s little house—his bungalow—had been, there was now a charred pile of debris. The side that had once been part of the property wall was gone, leaving a gaping hole. Logan could see the rest of the property through it. Though it looked like the fire had spread, the other buildings appeared to have received only minor damage.
Apparently, just cleaning the house hadn’t been enough for Aaron. He’d decided to burn the place down to make sure there was no trace of him left. Logan had no proof of this, of course, but once again, he wasn’t buying the coincidence.
Moving further down the sidewalk to get a better look, he could see that there was no part of the bungalow left untouched by the flames. If Aaron had left anything behind that could have helped Logan find Elyse, it was completely destroyed now.
Logan’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Expecting it to be Ruth, he was surprised to see his dad’s name on the display.
“What?” he asked, not in a particularly talkative mood.
“What was Elyse’s boyfriend’s address? Don’t think you gave that to me.”
Logan eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Well…em…when I told Tooney what you said when you called last night, he wanted to come down and see it himself. We couldn’t talk him out of it.”
“So you let him go?”
