Page 140 of Putting Out
“What kind of car was he driving?”
Luke turned to stare at the man with the mustache. “What’s your name?”
“Look, sir, I need you to pull it together. If we’re going to find her we need to know what car Leonard was driving.”
Luke nodded. “A Camry. Dark maroon.”
The detective relayed the information to the dispatcher and called for an APB on the car.
Luke knew it was a wasted effort. This man was smart. This man had fooled them all. Why hadn’t he called Bob to verify who he was? Why hadn’t he checked the damn badge number?
Because Mark made it all sound so real. There’d been nothing suspicious about him. Nothing alarming. He joked about the lack of security at the gate to the development and Luke hadn’t once suspected a thing.
He’d been attracted to Reilly. That was obvious, but who the hell wouldn’t be. He said he was a fan. She had fans. Maybe on a gut level Luke hadn’t trusted him, but because he saw him as a threat. He was handsome. Charming.
And a psycho kidnapper.
“It’s doubtful he’ll keep the car. He has to know he’s been discovered by now.”
“Yeah. Probably,” the detective admitted. “But if we find the car we’ll have a starting point. There aren’t a lot roads leading out of this town. We’ll start there and take the most direct route that leads out of state. It will be his first goal.”
What would the second goal be? Would he stop to rape her? Or would he wait until he was sure they were safe? What kind of sick bastard was he? Would he torture her? Kill her? What happened when an obsessed stalker had his target in his grasp?
Luke saw the speedometer spike over 80mph. They were moving fast, but they weren’t moving in the right direction. They were headed back to the course while Reilly was headed away from it.
Another call came in over the radio and the detective reached for it. The dispatch person was reporting suspicious activity and spouting out roads and crossroads Luke had no idea about. The urge to take the damn radio and smash it to pieces was strong. He didn’t want to hear about other problems in the area. He wanted the man to concentrate on finding Reilly.
“Okay, we’ve got something.” The detective was eyeing the rearview mirror even as he told Luke to hold on.
Luke reached out to grab the dashboard while the car spun into a 180-degree turn. Luke heard car horns beep and tires squeal but soon they were facing the opposite direction and going faster than they were before.
They passed car after car using the shoulder as the detective called for backup. Backup to what? Luke wanted to know.
“What the hell is that?” Luke muttered.
A paper flapped in the air in front of him until it landed on the windshield. The image of her swinging a golf club seemed to mock him. He rolled down the window and reached his hand out to grab the picture before it flew off.
“It’s Reilly.”
“I know. There was a report of pictures flying out behind a van. They’re all of her.”
“You think she’s pulling a Hansel and Gretel?”
“You know her. Do you think she could keep her head together in a situation like this to do that?”
A situation like this? Kidnapped by a man she’d seen shoot another man in front of her. How would Reilly deal with that? The best way she could.
“She’ll keep her head together. This absolutely could be her.”
Reilly reached her arms farther up her back along the door of the van and tugged at the picture. With her arms lifted higher than they wanted to go she had to work a little more, but the tape caved against her strength and the picture was in her hands. Slowly she lowered what felt like a magazine page this time to the space between the floor and the van’s back doors. She could tell by the way the wind battered them about that the lock wasn’t secure.
More likely there was a piece of wire or a chain holding them together from the outside, leaving a slip of space perfect for a picture to fall through.
It had been a while since she’d heard any cars behind them. Not that it was easy to hear anything over the engine’s rumble echoing in the empty back shell. She had no idea if anyone was seeing the parade of pictures she was slipping out between the doors. Or if they did see them would anyone have any idea of what they meant other than they were traveling behind a crazed Reilly Carr fan.
* * *
“No. No. No!”
