who meant something to him—Detective Max Jenkins—someone he might risk coming to see at the Golden Palms Villa Nursing Home. Checking out the nursing home would be worth a shot since he’d come up empty on Harper’s background. And being a private investigator, he knew how to research the kid’s visiting routine, if he had one. Earlier, Luis had called the nursing home to ask about Harper’s father over the phone, getting his room number on the pretense of sending flowers, which he did. The cheapest batch of carnations he could find. The administrative staff had been very accommodating, especially when it came to the kid’s visiting pattern.
Not taking anything for granted, Luis also had done his homework on the Millstone case by searching newspaper archives and making copies to read later. His client might appreciate his initiative if he found something worthwhile in the old news articles.
Now all that remained to track Seth Harper was setting up a vigil both day and night outside the nursing home. Since the kid was more savvy than he’d first thought, he’d have to play it smart if and when he got a second shot at him.
But near dusk, Luis spotted an ugly blue van when he first staked out the facility after cruising side streets looking for a good surveillance spot. From a distance, he’d taken a few discreet photos as he sat in his car. A woman sitting alone had caught his eye, but when she stayed parked, it made him wonder enough to ask for help from an old buddy.
“Yo, Frankie. How’s it going?” He chatted up his cop friend, a guy he’d known since high school, and caught up on family and sports until he got down to business. “Can I get you to run me a tag,
“Sure, dickweed. Shoot.”
He gave his friend the tag number for the blue van. After a few minutes, his old pal Frankie came back with the make and model of the vehicle.
“It’s registered to Seth Harper at Pinnacle Real Estate Corporation. You need the address?”
“Yeah, give it to me.” After he took down the information, he asked, “You sure the van isn’t registered to some chick? Maybe it’s a company vehicle, but if that’s so, business must not be good. It’s a piece of crap, bro.”
“Hey, you asked for the registration, I gave it. You need anything else?”
“
“And if you had a woman, I’d have more to say than fuck off, Dante. Later, bro.”
After the call ended, he puzzled over why a woman would be camped out at the nursing home and driving Seth Harper’s van. Luis kept watch at the location through the evening, looking for the kid and maintaining surveillance on the blue van. The longer the woman stayed, the more she fueled his curiosity.
“What are you up to,
Now he had more to say to his client than merely reporting the van color. And he had a feeling he’d be coming into bonus money if he worked it right. The man answered on the second ring and wasn’t pleased to hear about the added wrinkle.
“A blue van?” the man asked.
“Yeah, she’s still here,” Luis said. “But vehicle registration is under Seth Harper. And there’s more.”
He told his client about Harper’s connection to the old Danny Ray Millstone case, even reading some of the news articles over the phone. The man sounded pleased by what he’d found.
“So what do you want me to do?” he asked.
“She may lead you to Harper. Use your judgment, but your priority is the same. Find him. And call me when you know where he is.”
The man ended the call, leaving it up to him to decide what to do where the woman was concerned. So when she started her vehicle, Luis followed and gave her plenty of room. He didn’t want to lose her or give himself away. But the mystery surrounding Seth Harper deepened.
And his new case just got more interesting.
South Chicago
11:20 P.M.
Burke had a commercial storage unit near the Dan Ryan Expressway off 87th Street. Located amid a cluster of warehouses and local businesses, it was a middle-of–the-road unit. Not too high-end to make his brand of sleaze stand out as a patron, but upscale enough to have decent security measures. The units had video cameras and were gated with keycard access at the entrance and at each unit.
From experience, she knew such facilities gave after-hours and weekend access upon request. But with her twenty-four/seven five-finger skills, she didn’t have to worry about that. All she had to do was figure a way in and not get caught in the flesh or on digital.
Alexa pulled behind her van, no doubt aided by her active tracking beacon, and joined her in the front seat. She dumped a knapsack on the floorboard and slipped on a pair of black gloves and a stocking cap to cover her blond hair. But after getting a good look at Jessie’s bruised face, the woman had plenty to say.
“You look pretty rough. And I know you’re not getting enough sleep.” She turned to face her. “Tracking your friend may take time. You gotta pace yourself.”
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” She looked across the street, avoiding the woman’s stare.
“Suit yourself.” The blonde got down to business. “Burke doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d lease a unit like this. He must have something worth stealing to pay the extra bucks, which I’m expecting to find a little ironic by the time we’re done.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same.” She retrieved the night-vision binoculars from her glove compartment and checked out Burke’s storage facility. “Looks like we’ll have the place to ourselves. I don’t see anyone else on the property, but video poses a problem. It might limit our time.”
“Not so, grasshoppa.” Alexa rummaged through the rucksack at her feet and pulled out her gear. “I’ve got countersurveillance to take out the video. We won’t have all night, but whoever is monitoring will think it’s a power outage, at least for a while.”
“Slick.” Jess tied back her hair and tugged on her gloves. “I saw one of those on eBay.”
“And I’ve got a device to plug into every keycard lock. It’ll pop it in seconds. No climbing over the gate or crowbars.” Now the blonde was just showing off.
“Is this another convincing argument for me to join the team?” She grinned and grabbed the lock device for closer inspection. “’Cause I’m a girl who likes toys.”
“Whatever works, Beckett.” Alexa raised an eyebrow. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 20
Luis Dante had followed the blue van from the nursing home, nearly losing the woman as he maintained a safe distance. Now, as she slowed to park on a deserted street, he doused his headlights and pulled into the shadows a few blocks down and kept watch with binoculars.
Another vehicle pulled behind the van, coming off a side street. A blond woman joined her, dressed in dark clothing and carrying a bag. Luis had no idea what the women were doing, especially at this time of night. Businesses were closed, and there were no bars on the street that he could see. And when they didn’t get out of the van right away, his suspicious nature kicked into high gear.
When his cop friend answered, he said, “Hey, Frankie, I got another tag. You got time to run it?”
“Yeah, give it to me.”
He read the tag and waited on hold while his friend pulled up the record, but when Frankie didn’t come back with a quick answer, he knew something was up. He lit a fresh cigarette, expecting to wait, but the women got out of the van and headed across the street on foot. As they disappeared around a corner, he lost sight of them at an intersection. From where he was parked, he couldn’t see where they went.
