Living with the Dead Page 32


"I doubt this guy is that good. He keeps looking around, but hasn't so much as glanced over his shoulder."

A pause. "Not once?"

"Never. I bet it hasn't even occurred to him that I could be following. A total amateur. But I promise if he decides to stroll into any abandoned warehouses, I won't follow."

Another small laugh, but this one tight. "This guy, can you describe him?"

"Well, let me tell you, he looks like one dangerous dude." Had she really said dude? "He's maybe five nine, early twenties, skinny, though he's not going to stay that way if he keeps scarfing down mega banana splits."

"What?"

"Banana split. That's what he's eating right now. A totally dangerous guy. He broke off pacing outside my door to go grab some ice cream."

A moment of silence. "Did you notice whether he drove to the motel?"

"I didn't see him until he got to the door. But I doubt it. He just walked four blocks for this ice cream. Maybe we have a PI who lost his driver's license."

Hope didn't answer. Karl said something in the background, too low for Robyn to hear.

"I know," Hope said, voice distant, as if she'd pulled the phone from her mouth. She came back to Robyn. "Stay there, okay?"

"That's what I planned. Like I said, no long walks into abandoned buildings."

"No, seriously. Stay right where you are. If he leaves, abandoned building or not, don't follow him. Don't go back to the motel. Stay put. Do you have an address?"

She gave Hope the name of the nearest store and the street number.

"We'll find it. Now, stay right there."

"In this phone booth?" Robyn tried to sound light, but could hear the edge in her voice.

"No, find..."

A murmur from Karl.

"Are you sure?" Hope's voice was muffled, as if covering the receiver. Karl said something else. Then Hope returned. "Karl says if you're comfortable watching him, keep doing that. Just don't – "

"Follow him anywhere. Got it."

"We'll be there in fifteen minutes."

 

ROBYN

 

Maybe it was the ice-water splash of Hope's concern, making Robyn feel foolish for her PI fantasies, but the stakeout quickly lost its appeal. She watched the young man eat and drink and eat and drink...

Every now and then he'd break the routine to lift his head, not looking around, just tilting his face up, as if checking the weather. Then, while he was scraping the bottom of the banana boat, he stopped, spoon raised. He scanned one way, then the other, chin lifted. It looked like he was... sniffing. As if he'd picked up a strange smell and was trying to locate the source.

Robyn took a deep breath and caught the faint whiff of garbage. If he was downwind of that, she didn't blame him for perking up. Probably glad he'd finished eating first.

The young man's lips curved, not in a moue of distaste, but what looked like a smile.

 

He started to rise, stopped midway and glanced in her direction. For a moment, she swore he was looking straight at her as she pretended to read a real estate flyer. Her heart thudded. Hope had been right. He had known –

His gaze swung away and he pushed up from the umbrella table. One last look in her direction, then he set out at a quick stride, heading around the ice cream stand.

He'd known she'd been following him. But how?

The answer was there, a few feet away, her dim reflection in a store window. At some point on the way there, he'd glanced at a window or shiny surface and seen her behind him.

See, Bobby, a true detective doesn't need to look over his shoulder.

That's what Hope had meant, that if he was a professional, he wouldn't be gawking back to check for a tail. At least Robyn could save some face now by not doing something truly stupid, like following to see what had caught his attention.

Ah, you're catching on.

It had been a clever move, pretending he'd seen or heard something, piquing her interest, then hurrying away from the populated area.

Since she was sure he'd made her, there was no reason to hide in the shadows. She folded the flyer under her arm, walked to the ice cream stand, ordered a small vanilla shake, then found a table near where he'd been sitting.

She imagined his surprise when he came back and found his target sitting right out in the open. Then what would he do?

Well, for starters, he could call the police and report seeing a wanted fugitive enjoying a milkshake.

The first sip blasted her stomach and she shivered. In the excitement of playing PI, she'd forgotten her own predicament.

Maybe that's where he was right now – making that call. She was scrambling up when she heard, "There you are."

Hope was weaving through the tables, curls escaping her ponytail, breathing hard, as if she'd run from wherever they'd parked. Robyn glanced past her.

"Where's Karl?"

"He took off after the guy. That was him, right? Red ball cap? Leather jacket?"

"Karl's going after him? I – I don't think it's the kid you guys saw yesterday. After he left, I started wondering if it could have been Judd's killer. That was a young man about his size. You should call Karl. Warn him."

"Karl's careful. He used to do security, remember?"

Robyn had a hard time picturing Karl in a rent-a-cop uniform. No, not a hard time – an impossible one. Either he'd done it a very long time ago, or Hope meant a different kind of security, like designing or managing systems. Neither was going to help him in a face-off with a killer.

Maybe Robyn wasn't the only one enjoying this too much, getting overconfident, taking risks...

"We'll wait here and let Karl handle it." Hope started moving toward the ice cream stand. "If he needs me, he'll call." She reversed direction, backtracking to the table and setting down her notebook, cell phone on it. "Can I get you anything else?"

Robyn said no. While Hope got in line Robyn glanced at the notepad. She'd love to see what was inside. Maybe if she nudged that phone off, the breeze would blow it open...

She shook her head. Like she could read Hope's notes anyway.

"So did you find anything?" she asked when Hope returned with a Coke.

"We're making progress."

"Do I get a hint?"

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