Operation Blind Date (7 page)

Chapter 9

L
aney 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 warning 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

T
hey 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 thought you were in St. Louis,” she said.

“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.

Laney watched as Quinn greeted Hayley, felt the warmth between them as if it were so big and encompassing it spilled over onto others. She felt a twinge of longing she quashed firmly; this was not the time to moon over what she didn’t have.

“Go over what you found, Ty,” Quinn said when Hayley had pulled up another chair and joined them.

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.” The young man reached for a tablet computer that sat in front of him. “I did some digging after we found out who the guy was.” His gaze flicked to Laney. “The Edward guy, I mean. That is his real name.”

She kept her wince inward. It hadn’t occurred to her he might have lied about that, and she didn’t like feeling so naive.

“And he works at North Country Enterprises, just like he said.”

“Well, that’s something, after that elaborate story he gave me about his office being so beautifully remodeled.” She was feeling a bit of relief that she hadn’t been completely conned.

“In fact, that’s what got me started. Quinn pointed out that with that big government grant they got last year, he should be making decent money, but there wasn’t much sign of it. He lives in an apartment in back of his aunt’s house, and drives a car that’s in her name, judging by the parking tickets I found.”

“Maybe she asked him to live there, to help her out,” Laney suggested. “And the car’s a sort of payback.”

“We can’t say that’s not part of it, it may well be,” Quinn agreed. “But tell her the rest.”

Tyler went on then. “I found a string of ATM withdrawals of cash. Lots of cash, sometimes thousands at a time. And if there wasn’t enough cash to cover it, he went for a cash advance on the credit card linked to the account.”

Laney frowned. “From whose account? His own?”

Quinn gave her an approving nod, as if he were pleased she’d asked. “His aunt’s. Household account, mostly used to buy groceries, pay for repairs, that kind of thing.”

“You think he’s ripping her off? His own aunt?”

The idea left a nasty taste in her mouth. From Teague’s grimace, she gathered it did him, too. He leaned over to look at the display on the tablet.

“Can’t prove she doesn’t know,” Quinn answered. “He has full access, so it could be with her knowledge.”

“We need to talk to her,” Hayley said.

“Yes,” Teague said. Quinn nodded, but told Ty to finish first.

“It’s where the withdrawals were made that turned out to be interesting,” Tyler said. “I didn’t get it, because I’m not from here, so the names didn’t mean anything to me. Except that I couldn’t pronounce half of them right.”

Teague had been reading the list, and just as Tyler finished speaking he let out a low whistle.

“Casinos,” he said.

“Exactly,” Quinn agreed.

“So he’s gambling with this money?” Laney asked. She wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse.

“And he’s in deep,” Tyler said. “Those cash advances, the interest alone would pay my car payment.”

“And yet he keeps doing it,” Teague said with a shake of his head. “He’s headed for big trouble. He can’t not see that.”

“Willful ignorance?” Quinn said. “Or addiction.”

Laney leaned back in her seat. “He’s obviously got a problem. But how does this tie in to Amber’s disappearance? Money? It’s not like she’s rich. She has a small trust fund from her grandfather, but she doesn’t get all that much from it. And she can’t access the principal for another five years yet, when she’s thirty-five.”

“That’s tough,” Tyler said.

“Amber didn’t think so. He made his money the hard way, he didn’t want her to have everything just handed to her,” Laney said. “She used to complain, but as she got older, got the satisfaction of making it on her own, she realized it was for the best. But the trust is rock-solid, there’s no way anybody could get at it.”

“Let’s make that call to his aunt,” Quinn said. “We’ll keep it low-key and anonymous for now, don’t want her warning him if she’s in contact.”

They decided to have Hayley make the initial call to Edward’s aunt—or great-aunt, whichever she was—to keep Laney out of it for now, on the chance Edward might have complained to the woman about her turning away his interest. She would make the call as a prospective client of Laney’s mentor.

“I’m a big-dog girl,” Hayley said with a laugh, “you’ll have to quickly educate me on the appeal of the little ones.”

Laney answered several questions from Hayley, things that would let her sound as if she knew what she was talking about. And then she sat and listened as Hayley made contact, and slowly but cleverly worked the call around from her own nonexistent Yorkshire terrier to Mrs. Reed’s nephew.

“She’s pretty protective of him,” Hayley said a few minutes later as she disconnected the call. “She wanted off the phone in a hurry.”

Quinn looked thoughtful. “Too protective?”

“You mean like she knows there’s something to protect him from?” Laney asked, trying not to read too much into it.

“More like she doesn’t want to hear anything bad about him, I think,” Hayley said.

“Which makes you wonder if she suspects she might, if she listened,” Teague put in.

“Sometimes people know things, in their gut, that they won’t consciously acknowledge,” Quinn said.

“Because the price of knowing is too high,” Hayley said. “Sad. But the only worthwhile thing I got was that she’s a little peeved with him just now. He hasn’t been calling as he should, and apparently hasn’t been home in days. I think she’s worried.”

“Collateral damage,” Teague muttered.

“We may have to go back at her again later,” Quinn said. “We’ll keep Laney in reserve for that.”

Laney nodded.

“What’s this?” Teague asked suddenly, pointing at the tablet, where he’d swiped through a couple of pages of Tyler’s research.

“Just an automatic notification. I sent him an anonymous generic type email from an ISP stripped address, just to see what happened. That’s what I got back, just before you guys got here.”

“Teague?” Quinn asked. “What? I haven’t seen what he got back.”

“It says Page will be out of the office until further notice.”

Laney’s breath caught. She was trying very hard not to jump to conclusions, but her mind was screaming this was proof they were together. What it didn’t resolve was the question of whether Amber was there voluntarily.

Teague read the displayed automated response again as he pulled out his cell phone. He glanced at the time, then dialed a number he was apparently reading from the bottom of the email.

“Hi,” he said when someone picked up, “Edward Page, please.”

There was a pause while he listened.

“He didn’t say anything to me about this. He’s supposed to be handling a transaction for me.”

Again a pause.

“This is really irritating.” He sounded exactly like a demanding customer who was not pleased. “When do you expect him back?”

He listened for a moment longer, muttered a thank-you that sounded less than sincere, and disconnected. Laney was impressed. Whoever had answered, confronted with an apparent unhappy customer, would focus on calming them first. Which meant they were much more likely to answer questions than if he had simply called looking for the man.

But her feelings shifted quickly to dismay when he spoke, his voice grim.

“He’s on an unscheduled, unexpected leave as of two weeks ago, something about taking care of a sick relative. They’re not sure exactly when he’ll be back.”

Laney’s breath stopped in her throat. Two weeks ago. A week after she’d introduced him to Amber.

And almost exactly when the odd texts had begun.