Keeping an eye on the man, Al moved closer to the dumpster and saw the edge of a small plastic bag sticking out from under the dumpster. He picked it up and saw it contained approximately ten pills, two rolled joints, and a white chunk of what Al was pretty sure was meth.
“Yeah, I can see you were having a little smoke,” he said. “Turn around and keep your hands in the air.”
The man turned. Al pegged him late twenties, maybe early thirties. His hair hung below his ears and blended in with the sparse facial hair he’d probably started growing to hide the meth sores. His brown eyes darted between Al and the entrance to the alley as he calculated whether he should try to make a run for it.
Al held up the baggie.
“You want this?”
“What?” The man looked at the baggie and then at Al.
“You want your goodies? Because I’m not interested in them—or you. I’m interested in the phone you stole.”
“I didn’t steal no phone.”
“Oh? Maybe you found it? In the last hour or so?”
The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed several times. Al could see him calculating whether he should pretend he didn’t have the phone or whether he should admit it.
“Well, yeah—I found one,” he finally said. “I was gonna turn it in, though, if I couldn’t find the owner.”
“Sure you were. Where did you get it?”
“It was just layin’ on a shelf at Walmart,” the man said. “By the TVs. It wasn’t in a package or nothin’.”
“Give it to me.”
The man lowered his right arm and started to reach into his jeans pocket. He stopped.
“You ain’t gonna shoot me, are you? Like on the news all the time when those cops say they thought the cell phone was a gun?”
“No, but I might shoot you if you don’t give me that phone. Now!”
“Okay, okay.” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He held it out to Al. One look at the phone told Al it was Will’s.
“Get out of here.” Al motioned with his weapon toward the street. “Go to church and say thanks for your good luck.”
“What about my stuff?” the man whined.
“Oh, you want your stuff? Well, maybe if you ask the judge real nice after your trial, he’ll give it back to you. You want to go that route instead of just leaving, it’s okay by me.”
“Hey, hey, forget it.” The man started backing toward the street, hands held in front of him. When he’d gone half the distance between Al and the street, he turned and ran.
Al opened the baggie and dumped the contents, grinding them into the dust and grit with his shoe before heading back to his car. Once inside, he called Lonnie.
“I got the phone,” he said. “It was left on a shelf at Walmart, and some lowlife picked it up.”
He heard Lonnie curse.
“Hey, we expected something like this,” Al said. “Did you find the car?”
“Yeah. Parked and empty over on Crestview. I’ve got unis on the way to canvas the neighborhood to see if anyone saw where Will went.”
“Bet some of those folks have security cameras.”
“I’m sure they do, but it doesn’t look like many of them are home. I’ve got dispatch trying to get info on the ones closest to Will’s car. If we can find out where they work and that they’ve got cameras, we’ll get the feed.”
“So it’s up to the medallion and the insoles,” Al said. “Have you heard from Don?”
“No. He’s been quiet since we left the station,” Lonnie said.
“That’s odd. Do you think he got made?”
“Let’s hope not. He’s got the only tracker for the medallion and insoles.”
“What should we do now?” Al had never felt more helpless. While he’d had the phone to track, he’d been able to avoid thinking about Jen, but now images of her lying beaten and broken like Trish and the others kept forcing their way into his thoughts.
“I dunno.” Lonnie sounded as helpless as he felt. “Just drive around and keep a lookout for Anderson. I’ll call as soon as we get something on the car or I get hold of Don.”
They disconnected. Al slumped back in his seat for a few minutes, trying to think of something else to do. Walmart. The man had said he found the phone at Walmart by the TVs. He’d go there and talk to the clerk. Maybe he’d learn something, maybe he wouldn’t, but at least he’d be doing something. He started the car and pulled away from the curb.
CHAPTER 58
Will grabbed the phone on the first ring, stabbing the green button so hard he nearly knocked the phone from his hand.
“Go out to the car,” the robotic voice said before Will could say anything. “Leave everything but the phone. Don’t hang up.”
He saw them as soon as he opened the driver’s door. Two cheap canvas slip-on shoes sitting on the passenger seat. He managed to stifle a groan. Artie was taking no chances. And Will had no doubt he was enjoying the game as well.
“Put them on,” the robot said, “and leave your other ones in the lot.”
Will laid the phone on the dash, and sitting sideways in the driver’s seat, he did as he was told. Making a guess that Artie’s view was at least somewhat blocked by his body, he quickly slid the insoles out of his shoes and into the canvas ones. He picked up the phone.
“Now what?” he said.
“Now you hold your shoes up in front of the radio,” the robot said.
So the camera is somewhere in the center of the dash, Will thought. He tried to spot something different about the dash but couldn’t. He hesitated, knowing Artie was likely to see that the insoles were missing. They were an intense blue color like those sold in every drugstore, while the inside of his shoes was a dark brown.
“Do it. Now.” The robot
