“Yeah. What about you?”
“Unless Veena’s situation is resolved before that.”
He leaned forward. “What have you found out about the threats? Any leads?”
His curiosity was normal, I guessed. Ali and Gage had asked me, too, when Veena wasn’t around. “I can’t talk about it.”
“You could tell me, but then you’d have to kill me, right?”
I smiled sweetly. “Something like that.”
We tucked into our sandwiches for a few minutes. His Reuben was gone in short order, and he settled back in his chair.
“Where do you think you’ll go after this job?” he asked.
“It all depends on—” At the same moment, my watch vibrated, and my phone blared. Not a ring—an all-out alarm. “I’m sorry, I have to go!”
I pulled on my coat, scrambled around Connor, and busted out of the door. I’d worry about how to explain this later. Right now, my focus was on Veena.
And why she pushed her panic button.
Fourteen
I dialed Veena’s number as I ran through the narrow lanes, snow whipping my face. Voicemail. I called Brown.
“I got the notification.” His voice was serious but calm. “Could it be a mistake?”
“I can’t get her on the phone.” I was breathless. Snow stung my eyes. “What about her tracker?”
“I can’t find it,” he said. “Disappeared after the panic signal.”
Which meant it either malfunctioned or was destroyed.
“I’ll call the other team lead and call you back.” He hung up.
I twisted and turned through the streets, my heart and legs pumping with adrenaline. I didn’t know where to go, but I couldn’t stop. Why didn’t I ask where they were eating lunch?
A sick feeling bubbled in my stomach. I’d chalked my unease up to the storm and the wrinkles in our plan, but Bart was right. I should’ve paid attention to that tugging of intuition. I ducked into a ski shop. Clutching my phone with numb fingers, my body buzzing, I waited for Brown’s call. Two minutes later I called Bart, who should be with Brown. He didn’t answer. I couldn’t sit still any longer.
I ran out in the snow again. I’d studied a map of the resort last night. If someone had gotten to Veena, where would they go?
They’d have a vehicle. With the interstate closed west of Copper, the only real way out of this relatively remote mountain town was east on the interstate toward Denver or south on a rural road to Leadville, the highest town in this high state.
Please don’t let them have a freaking helicopter. Could it even take off and fly in a storm like this?
Parking lots surrounded the village, built for the ski traffic that flooded in and out each day. I ran toward the edge of the buildings, darting around a few people whose bodies were bent into the wind. I wanted sight lines, but the snow made it almost impossible. My phone rang—Brown.
“Where is she?” I shouted, cupping the speaker from the wind with my other hand.
“She was with her parents at a restaurant on the east side of the village, The Continental Divide. I’ve sent you the location. She went to the restroom and didn’t come out for ten minutes. Bart’s en route, and I’ve called local law enforcement. The other team’s searching, too.”
“Heading that way.”
I disconnected and sprinted east as fast as I could in winter boots on snowy sidewalks. Veena had used the restroom alone because the Venkatesans’ security team was all male. I cursed. My head swiveled left and right as I ran, watching out for vans, delivery trucks, or SUVs with darkened windows, vehicles they could hide a small person like Veena in. Every time I passed one parked, I checked inside, my heart hammering. They were dark and empty. Few cars were on the road.
Wind whistled in my ears, and blood pumped through my limbs. Despite the cold, sweat wet my shirt. Where was she? Ahead, along a road that bordered the village, the side door thudded shut on one of those Mercedes passenger vans that looked like a mini-bus. If I was a kidnapper choosing a vehicle, that would be it. The left turn signal flicked on as the van’s operator prepared to drive away.
I ran to it, deployed my baton, and jumped up to see through the back window. A girl with dark hair was inside. I struck the back window. It shivered but didn’t break. Damn German engineering. I hit the window again. The van had been pulling away from the curb, but it jerked to a stop.
A moment later the driver was beside me, throwing his arms in the air and shouting in Spanish. I dropped into a defensive stance, limbs loose, baton ready. The guy, middle aged with thinning hair and a ski suit on, immediately backed away, hands up. He stammered.
“Stay there.” I pointed at him and threw the back door open.
The luggage area was filled with . . . luggage. Black suitcases, duffels, skis, poles, and boots. Two pairs of frightened eyes peeked over the back seat. Kids. Two teens stared at me from the middle row. One had a doughnut halfway up to his mouth, and the second was a girl with long dark hair who otherwise looked nothing like Veena. A woman hunched protectively between them, her eyes darting between the four children and me. I scrambled in over the luggage, searched the area around the first pair of kid feet and then the next, while the children shrieked and the parents yelled.
As I crawled back out of vehicle, it hit me: I’d terrorized a perfectly innocent family wrapping up their ski vacation.
I apologized to them in broken Spanish and took off. I’m sure I’d hear about this later from Brown, although my error wouldn’t matter much if we lost Veena.
I ran back toward the village, following the directions to the restaurant that he’d sent, The Continental Divide.
I spotted the restaurant. Two of the Venkatesans’ security guys rushed into a nearby store, probably searching for her. That was
