Page 47 of Chasing a Kidnapper

“Unfortunately.” He leaned down to stroke Peanut for a moment. With a sigh, he holstered his weapon and turned to look at Trish. “I really want to know how this guy knows where to find us.”

“If he killed Bryan and dumped his body here, he may have assumed we’d show up sooner or later.” She scowled. “It’s as if he’s baiting a trap, scattering breadcrumbs for us to follow, then lying in wait to make his move.”

It made sense, similar to what had taken place at the apartment building. “Yeah, that must be it.” The situation nagged at him. It was always a problem when criminals didn’t act in a logical manner. He bent down to scoop Peanut into his arms. “You okay, girl?” He ran his fingers over her fur, but didn’t find any indication she’d been injured.

“She’s really good about not bolting at the sound of gunfire,” Trisha observed.

“Well trained,” he agreed with a nod. He opened the rear hatch of the SUV to put Peanut inside, then closed the door. “We need to get out of here.”

“Without reporting the shooting?” She asked.

He shrugged. “We’ll let Doug Ross and Dan Slater know. But there’s no reason to stick around.”

“Fine with me. What about lunch?” she asked.

“First call Laurel, make sure all is well back at the safe house.” He couldn’t shake the feeling they were missing something. “It might be better to grab something to go.”

“We can’t just give up the investigation,” she protested. “What about checking to see if we can get that search warrant for the storage facility? Or stopping at the bus station?”

He hesitated, torn between wanting Trisha to be safe and doing his job. And since when did he let a woman get in the way of his career? He had to remind himself she was a cop.

“Okay, we’ll head to the bus station first.”

“Let’s grab something to eat on the way. For some reason, being shot at makes me hungry.” She sounded cranky as she wrenched her door open and slid into the passenger seat.

He couldn’t help but chuckle as he went around to the other side. “Okay, how about a drive-through burger? Will that work?”

“Fine.” She sighed and ran her fingers through her auburn hair. “I feel like we’re no closer to getting the answers we need.”

He nodded, sharing the sentiment. “I hope this guy isn’t waiting for us at the bus station.”

“Anything is possible, so we’ll need to be on high alert.” Her brow furrowed. “If the stash is in a bus locker, then a storage unit is probably too big.”

He shrugged. “Just because storage units are large, doesn’t mean you can’t hide something smaller inside.”

“True.” She sat back with a sigh. “It’s driving me crazy that I don’t know where this key is or what it opens.”

“I feel the same way.” Could there be more than one guy involved? It didn’t seem likely, but that was another possibility. Maybe the owner of the personal items that were taken had hired muscle to get it back.

Too many unanswered questions, he thought grimly.

He chose a chain hamburger place for lunch. They each ordered cheeseburgers, along with two bottles of water. Trisha called Laurel to check in at the safe house. She chatted with the older woman for a few minutes before hanging up.

“No issues back at the safe house?” West asked when she slipped the phone into her pocket.

“Laurel sounds tired and said she’s still a bit sore, but otherwise things are good.” She grimaced. “Maybe having her take care of Gabriel wasn’t the best idea. I worry she’ll have a relapse.”

“Would you rather skip the bus station?” he offered. “I’ll drop you off at the safe house now, and just go with Peanut.”

“No. You need backup.” She took another bite of her cheeseburger. “Besides, we’ll have to head back to the safe house when that’s done. It’s not like we have any other leads.”

They didn’t, although he was hoping they’d have some additional evidence to go on by now. He finished his burger as they approached the bus station. This could be a wild-goose chase, but he wanted to see the lockers for himself. The key to a storage unit was much like that of a house key. The locker keys could be smaller, or maybe even a padlock style.

But if a padlock had been used, then why was the gunman looking for a key?

Were they on the wrong track checking the bus station?

Maybe whatever Trish’s ex had taken was large enough to warrant a storage facility. He abruptly glanced at her. “What sort of vehicle did your ex-husband drive?”

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