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"That the kidnapper is someone you know." He saw her brow furrow. She wasn't following him. He realized that he was skipping around. "The Renoir," he reminded her. "How else would the kidnapper have known about the painting in your hallway?"
She was about to agree, then stopped as she remembered. "The house was photographed for Architectural Digest the year Robert became chairman of the board at International Security. Anyone thumbing through a copy of the magazine in their doctor's office could have seen it."
She was right. Chad blew out a breath as he changed lanes again, pa.s.sing a slow- moving compact. So much for that angle.
It brought him back to the theory that there was a certain amount of jealousy at work here, aside from simple greed. The kidnapper was enjoying being in control, enjoying tormenting her. Whether for personal satisfaction or to keep her off balance was something Chad had yet to determine. He had a feeling it was probably a combination of both.
Still, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that it was somehow personal. He let the hunch simmer.
Veronica tried not to let disappointment get the better of her. "Does this mean we're back to square one?"
He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile, at the same time surprised that he felt the need to do so. G.o.d knows he wasn't very good at it.
"No, it just means there're more squares than we thought."
She made no response.
The intersection of Pacific Coast Highway, more commonly known as PCH to those who were forced to travel it regularly, and MacArthur was busy that time of evening. Eager to make the most of the hours remaining to them, people were hurrying away from work, intent on getting home or stopping somewhere along the way at one of the numerous restaurants for an early drink to unwind from the day's pressures. Spilling out in all directions, the post-six-o'clock traffic made quick travel an impossibility.
Though he gave no indication of it, Chad waged a war with impatience as he slowed to a crawl less than half a mile from their destination. At this rate, he could have walked faster. He hoped that Ben'd had better luck.
Finally approaching the address he'd gotten, Chad saw Ben's car parked by the curb. All the other metered s.p.a.ces were taken. His only hope was the parking lot on the corner.
Ben waved as Chad pa.s.sed him. The ex-policeman was standing by a public telephone. Chad sighed quietly to himself. He'd had a hunch.
"We're here," he told Veronica.
She looked around as Chad guided the car to the back of the store, whose show window was filled with Oriental rugs. "He called from an Oriental-rug store?"
If only it was that easy, Chad thought. He'd seen the frown on Ben's face as he'd driven past him. That meant there were no viable suspects in the area. "I don't think so."
"Then where?" Lowering her head for a better view, she looked across the street.
The intersection crisscrossed with three-lane traffic going in four directions, but there appeared to be a residential development in the distance and what looked like an apartment complex.
Stopping the car in the first available s.p.a.ce, Chad quickly climbed out. Veronica was beside him before he rounded the hood.
"There." Chad indicated the public telephone as they approached it.
A public telephone. It all felt so impossibly hopeless. Like searching for a toothpick in a pile of straw. "Can we dust for prints?"
"We will, but it won't do us any good," he warned her. "There's no telling how many people have used that phone."
Veronica's heart sank.
Chapter 6.
Veronica focused on the tall, broad-shouldered man who stepped forward to meet them. He had a boyish look about him that seemed in direct contradiction to his eyes, which looked as if they had seen a lot. He nodded a silent greeting to her before turning his attention to Chad.
"Did you see anyone?" Chad asked.
Veronica held her breath as she waited for the reply.
There was a trace of genuine disappointment in his voice as the man shook his head. "n.o.body who looked as if they were in a big hurry to get away from the telephone."
After seven years in the force, both in uniform and as a plain clothesman, Ben Underwood could smell a suspect a hundred feet away before he ever joined ChildFinders. The guilty were at times very adept at acting, but there was always some small thing that gave them away. He had scanned the vicinity when he'd arrived minutes after taking Chad's call.
He looked from Chad's companion to Chad, a silent question in his eyes.
"This is my newest client," Chad told him.
Chad glanced at Veronica, realizing she might take offense at the impersonal way he'd referred to her. But keeping a distance was what kept him sharp. Involvement of any kind tended to dull the brain and take the focus off what was important.
"Veronica, this is Ben Underwood. He's with the agency," Chad added, though he doubted it was necessary. As he spoke, Chad slowly scanned the immediate vicinity, looking for anything that struck him as out of place. Some minor anomaly that would register in the back of his mind waiting for him to work through. "Ben, this is Veronica Lancaster. Her son was kidnapped from a birthday party this afternoon."
All their clients were readily identifiable by the anguish in their eyes. This woman at Chad's side was no exception. Ben took her hand warmly in his, giving her the most comforting smile at his disposal. Like Chad, he'd been on the police force before he'd joined the firm. Unlike Chad, his time at ChildFinders had changed him from a man who kept his emotional distance from the work he was engaged in to a man who was moved by every case that came in, and not just those that crossed his desk.
"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Lancaster, but you couldn't be in better hands. Chad's the best. He's got an inside track on these cases."
The annoyed look Chad gave Ben was far from veiled. Veronica wondered at the comment and why it annoyed Chad.
"It's Ms. Lancaster," Chad corrected. "And thanks for coming out so fast."
Ben shrugged. "Hey, if I'd seen someone, then you could thank me." Ben shook his head as he looked at the telephone. "He's got to be a cool one, Ms. Lancaster, calling you from a pay phone in the open like that."
"The cool ones are usually the easier ones to catch," Chad pointed out for
Veronica's benefit. "They get c.o.c.ky, and sooner or later, they slip up."
He looked in the show window of the store. The gla.s.s was heavily tinted to keep the rugs that were hung on display from fading, but he could make out two men inside the store. Since they were behind the counter, he figured they had to be sales-clerks. Could be they saw someone making the call. It was worth a shot.
He turned to Veronica. "You have a photograph of Casey with you?"
Opening her purse, she took out her wallet and showed him. "I've got five photographs."
"Good." He nodded toward the store. "Let's go inside and find out if anyone in the shop has seen him recently. Or saw the kidnapper making the call." He glanced at Ben. "A man holding up an electronic distortion device to the mouthpiece of a phone's got to attract some kind of attention."
"Not necessarily," Ben contradicted. "You forget, this is a beach community. Lot of strange characters hanging around."
There was that, Chad thought. But maybe they would get lucky.
Veronica caught hold of his arm. "You think that the kidnapper had Casey with him when he made the call?"
"No." He doubted anyone was that c.o.c.ky or that stupid. "But maybe he lives in the area and pa.s.sed by here on the way to his apartment. If one of those guys in there was bored, they might have gone outside for some air and seen your son in the back of a car." He looked across the street at the apartment building. The number of units was sure to come in at around a hundred, if not more. That made an awful lot of doors to knock on. "First thing tomorrow morning, we need to canva.s.s the area and pa.s.s around copies of Casey's photograph." That meant he was going to need help. Rusty was free, but he needed more than just one man. Chad looked at Ben.
"You between cases?"
Ben has been waiting for the question. "Just. Wound up one this morning."