Operation Blind Date Page 7
Laney was disheartened but tried to hide it, to keep her tone light. “The ubiquitous Charlie again?”
“Charlie’s got contacts high up in Canada.” Teague flashed her that grin that so turned her insides upside down. “Hell, Charlie’s got contacts everywhere.”
She smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it. She’d hoped they’d find the answer here, that someone would have remembered seeing Amber happily boarding a plane, her distaste for flying overwhelmed by the joy of falling in love. She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. Clearly Teague hadn’t expected it to be; he didn’t seem at all upset. And that seemed to help, somewhat to her surprise.
“We’re just getting started, Laney,” Teague said gently. “This is just the eliminating of possibilities.”
“I know. I just...hoped.”
It sounded silly, now that she’d said it. Naive. Things just didn’t work out that tidily in life.
Not in hers, anyway.
“Quinn wants us back at Foxworth.”
She nodded, not wanting to risk speaking just now.
“We’ll go back on the ferry,” he said decisively. “We can grab something to eat aboard.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling suddenly contrite as she realized Teague had already put in a lot of time on this, from the time he’d tried to do Hayley a favor to now. “I didn’t realize how late it was getting. What time do you get off?”
He flicked her a glance and a grin. “Whenever Quinn says I do. When we’re on a case, there are no limits.”
She blinked then frowned. Foxworth might work for free, but the people who did the work had to eat. “You do get paid, don’t you?” she asked.
Teague nodded. “And it’s a great gig. Sometimes we work like crazy, long hours, sometimes 24/7, for weeks on end, but sometimes we go for a couple of weeks with nothing but free time.”
“Sounds...unpredictable.”
Teague laughed. “It’s no nine-to-five, that’s for sure. I like it that way.”
They continued toward Seattle, taking the off-ramp toward the ferry to one of the islands on the other side, and from there they’d take the bridge to the peninsula and then on to Foxworth. There was a bit of traffic, enough that Laney was glad she wasn’t driving, and she stayed silent to let him pay attention to the process.
His cell phone rang again just as they were negotiating the turn into the ferry holding lots. Again he answered, listened, acknowledged and disconnected, this time all through an earpiece he slipped over his right ear.
He waited until he’d paid the fare and they’d been directed into the line to wait. He glanced at his watch, said they had about ten minutes to go before loading. Then he turned off the engine and twisted in his seat to look at her.
“We know who your guy is,” he said.
Chapter 9
Laney might have been disappointed they hadn’t found answers at the airport, but she was still astonished at how quickly Foxworth was putting pieces together.
“You found Edward?”
He nodded. “We think so. Tyler put all the pieces together in his own little piece of the web, and came up with the right name. Photo’s almost a perfect match to your sketch.”
“His sketch, you mean. He’s the one who did it.”
“From your description. He’s sending a copy of his driver’s license photo.”
He glanced down at his phone, nodded then held it up for her to see. Even prepared, it was a little shocking to see the man’s face.
“Yes! Yes, that’s him, that’s Edward.”
“His full name is Edward Page.”
“Yes,” she said again, this time with a sharp nod. “I couldn’t remember before, but now that you say it I remember Barbara once calling out to him with that name.”
“Then we have him. I’ll call Quinn back and confirm, then it will be only a matter of time.”
Her mind had kicked into overdrive again, Teague could see it. He wondered how long it would take her to reach the conclusion his mind had leaped to when Quinn had said the airplane ticket to Vancouver had never been used. Not long, he suspected. She was smart, and quick, and always thinking.
It was when they were onboard the ferry back to the other side—in addition to the availability of food, he’d thought the pleasant boat ride might be soothing for her—when she finally said something about it, and her words told him she’d realized right away, maybe as soon as he had, the implications of the unused ticket.
“Will the police think this was enough? Would buying a ticket and not using it tip them over into believing something’s really wrong?”
“Might get them to do another round of press releases, might move it a bit higher on the list.”
“Might.”
“Depends on what their caseload is right now. And I’m guessing with that string of shootings downtown, their focus is there.”
She sighed.
“They have to staff for the likely, not the possible,” Teague said.
“I know, I know. Sometimes I even have myself half-convinced I’m overreacting. But it just nags at me, because Amber wouldn’t do this. If it truly was a normal romantic getaway, she’d have been texting me at the least, all about it. We would have made a shopping expedition for clothes. She would have wanted to share her excitement. That’s just who she is.”
“So we keep looking.”
She gave him a sideways look. “I’m going to feel pretty silly if it all turns out to be my best friend having met the love of her life or something.”
“It’s a lot better than some of the possible alternatives.” He probably shouldn’t have reminded her of that, Teague thought. But when she answered, her words and tone eased his qualm.
“And I’ll be delighted to feel silly. Not to have wasted your time, though.”
“If you’re put at ease, it’s not a waste.”
“Foxworth is a most unusual organization.”
“Yes.”
He left it at that, because it was the simple truth.
They left the car and went up from the car deck inside to the small restaurant, quickly selecting a couple of bowls of the famous clam chowder. When they were done with the rich soup, they stepped outside to watch the water slip by. The wind had picked up on the middle of the sound, kicking up whitecaps, but the wide, solid boat churned through with a minimum of fuss or reaction.
“These are the only boats Amber will voluntarily get on,” Laney said. “Anything else makes her violently seasick.”
“They are pretty steady,” Teague acknowledged.
“Amber’s the only person I’ve ever seen who could get queasy standing on a dock.”
Teague chuckled. “It’s all about the idea for some people, I guess. Or maybe the visual.”
Laney smiled. Lifted her hand to brush back an errant strand of dark hair caught by the breeze of their passage. Tilted her head back to lift her face to the sun, still warm in these last days of summer. For a moment she closed her eyes.
She had to be tired, Teague thought, free for the moment to study her openly. Tired of feeling helpless. And responsible. He knew too well how wearing that was. And yet she’d insisted on coming along, when she could have just as easily stayed home and waited. He admired her quiet determination, the fortitude that had enabled her to start a business at a time when there were few riskier things to do, her loyalty to her friend, her gentleness and love for the animals she cared for, her generosity to the creatures not lucky enough to have a home. He admired many things about Laney Adams.
And in that moment, there in the sun, with her thick lashes resting on her cheeks, her thick, dark ponytail waving slightly, Teague admitted there was more to his urge to help this woman than that it was just what Foxworth does.
The warni
ng bell that went off in his mind then was oddly distant, would have been easy to ignore, if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was, in fact, a client. That was a line he didn’t dare cross. He didn’t know how Quinn would deal with that, and he didn’t want to be the first to find out. Hayley may have softened him a bit personally, but the leader was as tough as he’d ever been. He had high standards for Foxworth, and that hadn’t changed a bit. Teague doubted it ever would. It was one of the things that made him proud to be part of it all.
They were two-thirds of the way over when his cell chirped a text message. There was a stretch in the middle of the crossing where reception was almost nonexistent, so he checked the time sent. It had been, in fact, about eight minutes ago. He quickly read the message. When he finished, Laney had opened her eyes and focused on him.
“More confirmation,” he said. “She didn’t go to Canada.”
“What?”
“Those texts you got were sent from here. Or there, rather,” he finished, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder, back toward Seattle.
She took the news steadily.
“Charlie again?”
“No. This was from Liam. You haven’t met him yet, he’s been off at a seminar, but he’s got ways we don’t even ask about so Quinn asked him to check this out.”
“Handy guy to have around.”
“On your side, anyway. He’s a tech head, almost as good as Ty, but also field-trained. He’s our best tracker, both virtually and in reality. Looks as innocent as a puppy, and he uses that, too. He could have easily gone the other way if Quinn hadn’t plucked him out of a mess of trouble and put him to work for us.”
“Your Quinn seems to have a very good eye for talent.”
He blinked. Had that been a compliment, in a subtle way? Or was she just being polite, making conversation?
Doesn’t matter. Eyes on the prize, and that does not mean her.
Chiding himself seemed to work, for the moment at least. Odd, he’d never had a problem keeping things cool before. Of course, with Quinn and Hayley fairly trumpeting love and joy all over, and watching their last two clients, Kayla and Dane Burdette, who had been in love since childhood, nearly lose themselves then put it back together again, he supposed it was inevitable that everyone not settled would feel a bit unsettled.
And that last phrase sounded so silly even in his head that he clamped down further on his errant thoughts.
As they disembarked from the ferry and headed toward Foxworth, Teague pondered the fact that Laney hadn’t mentioned going back to the police with this latest bit of information. He wondered if she thought it wouldn’t make any difference, or if she was concerned about how they’d gotten the data.
“Our concern is finding Amber,” he finally said once they were on the road that led back toward the less populated areas. “And only that.”
“Thank you for that,” she said, her voice wobbling just slightly. Teague went on as much to reassure her as to explain.
“Chain of evidence or procedural protocols aren’t limitations for us. We do things aboveboard and in ways that will help the police when we can, but our bottom line isn’t theirs. We worry about the victims, not what will stand up in court.”
That seemed to steady her. She nodded in almost fierce agreement.
“What about the bad guys?” she asked.
“We have our own ways of dealing with them, too. Quinn’s the toughest guy you’ll find when it comes to people who hurt innocents.”
“Because he was one of the victims, once,” she said.
“And he doesn’t like anybody feeling the way he did then. Helpless. Like nobody’s doing the right thing, like nobody cares about anything except their own agenda or advancement. Backroom deals that make the dealers feel good but hurt the people they’re supposed to protect set him off like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
“I think I quite admire Quinn and his foundation.”
“So do I,” Teague said.
“You’re rightfully proud to be part of it.”
He smiled at that as he made the last turn, onto the road that would take them back to Foxworth.
“Did that make it easier to leave the service?”
The unexpected question threw him. “Nothing could make that easy,” he said, his tone sharp.
“I didn’t say easy. I said easier.”
Abashed, he muttered a quick “Guess I’m still a little touchy about it. But yes, if it wasn’t for Foxworth I probably would have stuck it out. And had to numb myself to the realities of what was happening around me.”
She said nothing more, and a few minutes later he was parking in Foxworth’s gravel lot outside the green building. In less than a minute the door swung open and Cutter came racing out. Seconds later his dark head was at her window, his intense gaze fixed on her as she smiled at the dog.
“Is he always the first to greet visitors?”
“You’re not a visitor to him. You’re his personal concern until this is resolved.”
She blinked. “You really do take him seriously.”
“We’ve seen what happens if we don’t,” Teague said wryly. “Liam’s family breeds dogs.... He grew up with dozens of them over the years. He says Cutter’s not really a dog, he’s some sort of alien form of intelligence that’s taken on dog form.”
Laney laughed as she opened the door and Cutter greeted her happily with a swipe of his tongue over her chin, a wag of his tail, and a short, excited little dance on his paws. She reached out and stroked his head, then curved her fingers to get to that spot below his right ear that made him practically wiggle when she scratched it.
She definitely had the Cutter stamp of approval, he thought.
And he’d be crazier than a loon to make something out of that.
“Teague?”
Quinn’s voice boomed down the stairwell as they stepped inside.
“Here,” he called back.
“Thought that was your bark. Come on up, we’ve got something.”
“Your bark?” Laney asked as they started up the stairs, Cutter leading the way.
He laughed, pointed at the dog, whose reddish-brown tail waved with every step. “He’s got one for everybody. Well, almost. Hayley’s got her own, of course, and Quinn. And Rafe rates his own somehow. The rest of us share one.”
Laney laughed in turn. “And people say I’m too tuned into dogs. But there is something special about him,” she agreed.
“We don’t dwell on it too much anymore,” Teague said. “That way lies crazy, as Rafe says.”
She shook her head, an amused but slightly amazed expression on her face. “Definitely a most unusual organization,” she said, echoing her earlier words.
Teague liked the way she said it. He liked the way she looked when she said it. He liked that she looked at him dead-on when she said it.
What he didn’t like was the realization of how much he liked it.
Chapter 10
They reached the third-floor office and meeting area, and found Quinn and another man waiting. Cutter trotted ahead, stopped at the table where they’d sat before and waited. Only when they’d joined the two at the table and, at Quinn’s gesture, taken seats on the other side, did Cutter walk to his bed beneath one of the expansive windows and curl up comfortably, a dog whose job, for the moment, was done.
“Laney Adams, Tyler Hewitt,” Quinn said by way of introduction.
“Hello,” Laney said in surprise. She’d thought she’d recognized him; this was the man who’d done the composite of Edward with her, but they’d done it via an online connection. He looked even younger in person, like a kid just out of high school, a little skinny, hair looking like he ran his hands through it a lot, and a small patch of—or a try at—beard under the center of his lower lip.
“I was. I got on a plane right after we finished,” the young man said. “I’m installing the new work station. While it’s going through its own diagnostics, they put me to work on your case.”
He sounded excited, Laney thought.
“We’ll make a field agent out of you yet,” Teague said.
“No, thanks.” Tyler gave a shudder that was obviously for effect. “I leave that to you outdoor types.”
“Good thing we have Liam, then,” Teague shot back. Clearly this was a familiar routine to them both; there was an undercurrent of humor in both their voices.
“Hah.” Tyler waved a hand in mock dismissiveness. “He’s good enough for an end user of the system, but if you want one built you need the real expert.”
The reference to the Liam she’d heard about had the tone of a longstanding friendly competition, with the emphasis on the friendly part. It made her believe all the more in the feeling she’d gotten that Foxworth was indeed a family sort of operation, and not one limited by blood.
“You children through?” Quinn asked with a lifted brow. The teasing back and forth stopped instantly. Quinn turned his gaze on Laney. “Sorry. Tyler doesn’t get out of St. Louis much, so it’s an occasion when he does.”
“I didn’t mind,” she said, meaning it. The quick back and forth had amused her more than anything. At least, as much as anything could when the thing truly consuming her was worry about Amber. “I never had brothers, so I missed out on the male sibling rivalry.”
Tyler laughed and gave her a genuine smile, not the slightly awkward one he’d proffered at first. “Quinn said you were really nice. He didn’t say how pretty you were, though.”
Laney smiled; it was impossible not to in the face of the simple compliment. Teague, meanwhile, made an odd sound, as if a little brother had said something to embarrass him.
“Maybe he assumed,” Teague said, “that you would be capable of seeing that for yourself when you met her.”
Laney blinked at that. Tyler’s compliment had been sweet; Teague’s subtler one had sounded more like a challenge. She just wasn’t sure who the challenge was aimed at. Fortunately for her peace of mind, Hayley arrived before she could spend too much time dwelling on it.