“I know you folks are waiting for good news, but I just wanted you to know we’ve had a break. And in cases like this, we gotta run down every lead.” The trooper cleared his throat. The sound came across far too loud in the quiet room. “Hey, Joe. Long time.”
“Yeah, Fitz. What’s happening? You got something to chase?” Joe kept the man on track, but by using his nickname, he reminded the trooper of their personal connection.
“Yeah, it seems some kid from Anchorage spotted Nikki getting into a car up at River Park around one. He was camping there with friends and he told us Nikki tried to pretend she was using the restroom, but she had a duffel bag with her, hidden in the bushes.”
“And where’d you find this kid? Could he be blowing smoke? Maybe he’s trying to divert the search.” Joe’s take on the case deflated Payton’s fragile spirit.
He knew Joe had made valid points, but only wished that Susannah didn’t have to hear them. She looked desperate and in need of encouragement. Reality would come soon enough. The trooper’s voice broke in and pulled him from his morbid thoughts.
“Nah, some folks in town have seen this kid and vouched for him. And he recognized her from the photo we used to canvass the town. A lucky break, I’d say, ’cause he was fixin’ to leave today. We caught him packed up and eatin’ breakfast at The Moose Nugget, Joe.”
“Did he remember the car? See anyone inside?”
“Too dark to see anyone inside, he said, but he remembered it was a Subaru and gave us a partial on the plate.” Fitzgerald described the Subaru in more detail, then asked, “Any of you recognize the description? Would Nikki know someone who owned a Subaru like that?”
Payton shrugged and looked at his sister, who was shaking her head.
“Susannah says no, Fitz,” Joe replied. “Did you run the tag?”
“Yeah, we did. I got Anchorage looking into it now.”
Joe narrowed his eyes, an uncharacteristic look of concern on his normally stoic face. With the Alaska State Troopers main headquarters located in Anchorage, Payton suspected Anchorage troopers would get involved sooner or later, but this soon? By Joe’s expression, it looked as if he had the same question.
In most states, troopers focused on traffic and highway patrol duties, but due to the limited accessibility and government presence within the state, the Alaska State Troopers enforced all criminal laws too. They served as primary law enforcement for most Alaska residents. For the Anchorage headquarters to get involved so soon after Nikki’s disappearance, Payton drew one conclusion. The troopers had begun to realize that Nikki wasn’t just another runaway.
“Not that I’m complaining, but why is Anchorage involved so soon?” Joe asked.
“It appears we got enough of a partial to ID the vehicle, so we’re running a background check on the owner of record. It’s registered to a local schoolteacher in Anchorage. They’re bringing her in for questioning. I’m heading there now, but before I leave town, do you know any reason why Nikki would get into the car of a woman teacher from Anchorage?”
Payton turned to his sister. By the look on her face, he knew she was thinking the same thing. The implication of Nikki being taken to Anchorage by a stranger chilled them both.
“I want in on this, Fitz. Stay put. I’m heading your way.” Joe didn’t hesitate. Nor did he ask Payton and Susannah for consent to get involved. After all, family didn’t need permission.
Joe ended the call, not waiting to hear the man’s objections. “We need you by the phone, Susannah, in case Nikki calls. Can you handle it alone?”
His sister nodded, her eyes filled with cautious hope. “Do you think she’s there, Joe…in Anchorage? With this teacher?”
“We won’t know until we question the woman, but anything is possible. We’ll call you when we know something.” After Joe gave Susannah’s arm a reassuring squeeze, he fixed his dark eyes on Payton. “You’re driving, hotshot.”
Payton leaned over to give his sister a kiss on the cheek, but before he pulled away, Susannah grabbed his arm.
“Please…find her, Payton. She’s all I’ve got.” Fresh tears filled her tired eyes.
Payton wrapped her in his arms and held her. “You’ve got Joe and me on your side too, sis. We’ll find her.”
He only hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.
Downtown Chicago
The late afternoon sun poked through the clouds, resurrecting her mood from the depths of where it had been, but not by much. Still, it felt good to get out from under the dismal clean-up of her apartment. Sam had helped until her shift at Cop Town. Together, they had made progress, but after Sam left, the task became torturous. Once Jess got her front door replaced and secured, she had to get out. And only one thing dominated her mind.
Baker’s damned laptop. And Seth Harper had it.
With feet planted on the sidewalk of Lake Shore Drive, she reread the street address scribbled in her own handwriting, completely stumped. When she looked up to confirm the number, the exclusive condominium project and the spectacular view overlooking the glistening waters of the Chicago harbor baffled her. Scrawled on a piece of torn paper, the address had been taken from her employment record of one Seth Harper, her first and only new hire. And from the outside of the building looking up, she counted the floors to make sure her suspicions were correct.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” She didn’t believe her eyes.
At the light, she walked across the street, making an effort not to limp. Her body still felt battered, one of the reasons she covered up with a long sleeve tee and jeans. In her condition, she’d be a sure standout where she was going, no matter what she had on. The imposing bright red awning and elegant black and gold double doors loomed ahead. She tried not to be intimidated by the fancy real estate. Seth had Baker’s laptop, and maybe by now some of his secrets.
Once Jess got inside the small foyer of imported marble and inlaid gold, a set of security doors barred her access unless she buzzed the correct residence. Seth had given her number 602 as his place. Just as she thought, the little weasel laid claim to—
“The penthouse, my ass.” She crumpled the scrap of paper with his address, jamming it into her pocket.
Most of the other residents had surnames listed beside a button. Hit the buzzer, say your name, and the security doors opened. Simple. Except suite 602 didn’t have a name listed. She buzzed it anyway. Once. Twice. On the third try, she kept her thumb on the buzzer, replicating SOS in Morse code. Still no Seth to chat her up on the intercom or buzz her in.
“Well, I don’t have all day, Harper. Time to improvise,” she muttered under her breath.
One by one she went down the row, punching buttons, like playing Russian Roulette with the rich and famous.
“Publishers Clearinghouse. Prize patrol.”
No reply. She went on to the next one.
“Candy Gram.”
Still no answer.
“Domino’s Pizza. In thirty minutes, I’m hot and ready.”
Jess rolled her eyes as she caught the door and went inside, still pondering her new hire. Seth probably lied on his job application, but she had no room to cast stones. She wasn’t above stretching the truth herself. Not too long ago she’d gotten the idea to post a job for a “summer intern” with the weekly
Her subtle subterfuge had been completely free of guilt. After all, who would look for a career worth having in a free paper?
Only one applicant applied. Seth Harper.
To legitimize her freelance Fugitive Recovery enterprise, she actually had the gall to interview the kid, giving
