Page 54 of Deliverance
I gave him a small smile and went out into the chilly city. It was almost the dead of winter, and it made me want to escape with Erin to the West Coast or maybe even Hawaii, so not only would there be thousands of miles between Frank and us, but there would be the fucking ocean too.
I left my Escalade parked in the parking structure near Frank's building and took a taxicab to the taxi company. It was easier to get around the city in a cab. If I lived in the city, I would take one to the penthouse, but I lived on Long Island.
The driver found it funny that I asked to go to his place of employment. He thought I was going to see about getting a job as a driver, so I confirmed that I was. During the drive, I wondered if he was the one who had taken Erin from Lock to the warehouse. It could be any of the drivers at the company. It could even be the company owner who drove around for Frank, so no one blew the whistle on his illegal doings. I wondered why Frank couldn't call the men who worked for him to find out where Quinn had gone unless he didn't know which taxi company it was. All of it was too much to worry about. I needed to find Quinn and then come up with a plan to get myself out.
But, if I was the one Frank called to find his wife, who would he send to find me?
The driver dropped me off at the door, and when I walked in, the receptionist looked up. "May I help you?" she asked.
I turned on my charm or at least put on a smile. I didn't think I came off as charismatic. The last ten years had changed me. "Yes, my boss's wife took one of your cars, and she hasn't been seen since. I was wondering if you could tell me where the driver dropped her off?"
A man came around the corner and asked in a Farsi accent, "Is there an issue?"
I tilted my head slightly. Why would he ask that question? I didn't ask to speak with a manager or anyone higher up. I could be anyone looking for any woman. It made me think he was one of Frank's men. "Are you the owner?" I questioned.
"I am," he confirmed.
"I work for Frank Russo—"
"Frank Russo?" he repeated. I nodded. "His wife got into one of my cars and is missing?"
I nodded. "Yes, cab twenty-two."
"Come to my office. We'll look at the logs." I followed him back. "Frank is a good friend of mine. I'll do anything for him"—I had no doubt he would—"but I need to call him to make sure you are who you say you are."
"Go for it."
The guy picked up the phone on his desk, and dialed without needing to look up Frank's number. "Frank, it's Akbar. I have a guy here claiming to be looking for your wife." There was a brief pause. "What's your name?"
"Ric," I replied.
"Yeah, Ric," Akbar said into the phone. "He has the cab number. I'm going to look at the logs." Another pause. "Yes, sir." He hung up.
"Date and time?"
I gave him the info I had gotten from the security recordings, and he scanned the logs.
He looked up at me with a confused look. "She was dropped off at the corner."
My brow furrowed. "What corner?"
"The one by his apartment."
"Are you sure? That doesn't make sense."
He flipped the book around and pointed to the line. "It's right here. Maybe she changed her mind about leaving."
"Except she hasn't been seen for two days."
"I'm sorry. That's all the info I have for you."
I thanked him and left. I thought for sure the log would tell me that Quinn had been taken to JFK or something. Not that she went to the corner and got out. Why the hell would she take a taxi to the fucking corner?
My phone buzzed as I was in the back of a cab heading back to Frank's building.
Frank:Why haven't you updated me?
I took a deep breath. Did he want me to text him my every fucking move? I figured Akbar would call him as soon as I left and give him the info.
