Back Track (10 page)

The drug boss was almost crazy with fear now, shouting under the tape, his head knocking against the glass so much Bishop thought it might crack. But Bishop just gripped the rope with one hand, and with the other started to make slow cutting motions with the knife. Then after a few moments he frowned and turned to Gaspard. As though he were deciding whether to give him another chance or not.

He released the rope and walked over to the railing. ‘Scream and you drop,’ he said. Gaspard stopped struggling and nodded twice. ‘Last chance. If you got something to say, speak. And it better be good.’ Bishop reached down and ripped off the tape again.

‘Please,’ Gaspard said breathlessly. ‘Don’t do this, man. You’re making a big mistake. I’m telling you the truth, I swear to God. When I heard about the crash I was on cloud nine, I admit. At first I thought it was Addison’s doing, but he ain’t smart enough. Like you said, I put it all down as a gift from the skies. Look, man, I understand about revenge, but it was an accident. That’s all. Just an accident. I had no hand in this, I swear. Come on, pull me up. Please, I’m begging you.’

Bishop looked at him and already knew he was telling the truth. If Gaspard had been behind Selina’s kidnapping, he would have offered to swap her for his life by now. No question. And Bishop couldn’t see him kidnapping her and then offing her. Not when it was simpler just to smother her in her bed. No, Gaspard wasn’t the man he was after.

Which meant Bishop was right back at square one again.

The town of Saracen, Arizona was located off Route 60, about a hundred miles northwest of Phoenix. With the I-10 running almost parallel about fifteen miles to the south, there was never much traffic on the 60 and today was no different. Bishop was driving a rented Chevy Impala this time. That’s all the National guys had left at the airport, but he didn’t really care as long as it got him where he wanted to go. He’d actually planned to get here yesterday, but every flight except the one this morning had been full. Even in first class.

At 13.03, he passed the town limit sign –
Welcome to Saracen, Arizona. Pop. 10748. Home of the original desert-dwellers!
– and a short while later made a left onto Saracen Road. He carried on for a couple of miles, drove through the centre of town and out again, and took a few more turns until he reached the Heritage Apartments.

The complex looked much better in the sunlight. Like a little green oasis in the desert. Bishop parked up in the same spot as before, grabbed his overnight bag from the passenger seat and got out. After the air conditioning of the car, the heat was like a short slap in the face. Not that he was complaining. Heat was always preferable to the cold in Bishop’s opinion, and at least there was no humidity. Anyway, he wasn’t here for the climate.

Yesterday, after leaving Gaspard hanging for his men to find, Bishop had considered his next move. And it hadn’t taken long to figure out the only avenue left was to return to Arizona, follow in Selina’s footsteps and see what he could dig up. Because Bishop was now sure her disappearance had nothing to do with her previous life. Which meant the people who’d taken her only knew her as Selina Clements, newly arrived resident of Saracen. They’d seen her around town, found out where she lived and grabbed her for reasons as yet unknown. So Bishop would stay here until he discovered those reasons. And from there, the road was sure to lead to Selina. One way or another, he’d find out what happened.

Bishop passed through the open gate at the rear and followed the same route as before. Since the rent was already paid up for another five months, Bishop saw no reason to let Selina’s apartment go to waste.

Along the way he passed an elderly couple on the ground floor, sitting in chairs outside their front door. The woman smiled and said, ‘Afternoon,’ as he approached. Bishop returned the greeting. The man said nothing, just watched him as he passed.

Bishop climbed the stairs and let himself into No. 40. He picked up two envelopes from the doormat, both addressed to the previous tenant. One was an invitation to apply for a Visa card, the other plugging an obscure overseas lottery.

Bishop showered, then pulled a grey T-shirt, a white button-down shirt and some fresh black chinos from his bag and put them on. Then he went next door to No. 39 and rang the bell. Thirty seconds later the door opened and a wide-hipped, dark-haired woman in her mid to late thirties glared back at him, holding a mug of something hot. She had prominent bags under her eyes and didn’t look too happy. But maybe she always looked that way.

‘Help you?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, sorry to disturb you, but I’m from No. 40 next door. My name’s Bishop.’

‘Congratulations.’ She leaned against the wall of her hallway and gave him a half-smile. ‘Mine’s Andrea. So you’re my new neighbour, huh?’

‘Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Do you know the woman who was here before?’

Andrea frowned. ‘Quiet, blonde girl? Selina, wasn’t it?’

‘That’s her. Selina Clements.’

‘We spoke a couple of times. Why?’

‘She’s my girlfriend. I was supposed to join her here, but I haven’t talked to her in a month and there’s no sign of her in the apartment apart from a few clothes. I’m real worried.’

‘You haven’t talked to her in a month?’ Andrea raised one eyebrow as she took a sip of her drink. ‘That sure don’t sound like no boyfriend I ever heard of.’

Bishop gave a strained smile. ‘I did try, but her cell phone’s out of service and she hasn’t had a landline put in. I’ve been overseas finishing up a contract job, and this is absolutely the earliest I could get away.’

‘What about her folks? You could have called them and they could have maybe filed a missing persons report or something.’

‘Selina hasn’t got any family. There’s just me.’

‘Oh, okay. Well, like I said, I only talked to her a couple of times. She was pretty shy and kept herself to herself. And I work nights, so our paths didn’t cross that often. I do know she worked in one of the diners in town, though.’

‘You know which one?’

Andrea shook her head. ‘I don’t eat in town much. Just pass through it on the way to work and back again.’

‘Can you remember the last time you saw her?’

She looked at a point above Bishop’s head as she took another sip. ‘It was about a month ago, I think. I know it was the day they arrested that drugged-up rapper in LA for crushing his girlfriend’s skull with a pipe. I was coming home from my shift after hearing it on the car radio and Selina was just going out to work. She said guys like that should go straight to the electric chair without passing
Go
. I remember being surprised, ’cause that was totally unlike her. She didn’t usually have much to say, although she was always polite to me. And don’t ask me for the exact date, ’cause I couldn’t tell you.’

Bishop didn’t need to. He remembered reading the story in the
Times
. It had been May 15. And Selina was scheduled to call her mom the next day. Which meant she must have been grabbed that same night. And it was now June 12, making it four weeks to the day since she’d been taken.

‘And she didn’t seem worried about anything else when you spoke to her?’

‘It was just a quick conversation, that’s all, and I was pretty tired. But she didn’t seem any more nervous than usual, if that’s what you mean.’

‘Was she dressed in her work clothes when you saw her?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘You remember the colour of her uniform?’

She furrowed her brow as she took another swallow. ‘Uh, it was light blue, I think. Yeah, that was it. Light blue, with white collars.’

‘Okay. Can you let me know if you remember anything else? If I’m not in, you can leave a note under the door.’

She shrugged. ‘Sure, but I really don’t know anything more. Look, don’t forget to go to the police and file a missing persons report, okay? Maybe they can help.’

‘I won’t forget,’ he said and turned to go. ‘Thanks.’

As Bishop drove back into town, he thought back to Andrea’s parting suggestion. She meant well, but filing an official missing person’s report was about the last thing on his mind.

Selina’s new name would hold up under a certain amount of scrutiny, but there was no telling how much damage a full-scale investigation might do. And any detective who dug deep enough would eventually find himself with a lot of unanswered questions. Like how come the missing person has a credit history that only goes back a year? And how come she has no relatives and no friends? And even if by some miracle the cops
did
locate her, where would that get him? They never reveal the missing person’s whereabouts or give out any kind of contact information. They’re not even allowed to pass on a message.

No, this wasn’t something he could trust to the police, even if he wanted to. Bishop needed to do this himself. He wouldn’t be able to rest otherwise. He possessed enough self-awareness to know the obsessive gene in his DNA was calling the shots now. He’d screwed up by not staying in regular contact with Selina. Now he needed to make things right again, if he could.

He reached the outskirts of the main part of town, found a space on the street and parked. He got out and started walking, breathing evenly. Working off the anger he felt at his own stupidity and thoughtlessness. It was still lunchtime, but the streets weren’t exactly crowded. With an area covering fourteen square miles, Saracen was one of those mid-size Arizona towns with too much space and not enough people. But he guessed that was all part of the state’s attraction. That and the slower pace. And the weather, of course.

Feeling somewhat calmer, Bishop stopped outside a dingy antique store. A fat guy in his fifties was sitting on a chair beside the entrance, reading an old crime paperback with a man’s bandaged face on the cover.

‘Good book?’ Bishop asked.

‘Better than most,’ the man said and looked up. ‘What can I do you for?’

‘I’m looking for a diner around here where the waitresses wear light blue uniforms with white collars. You know the one I mean?’

The man brought his eyebrows together. ‘Seem to me that’d be Tod’s Café. So you’re into uniforms, huh?’

‘Not so much these days. Where can I find this Tod’s?’

‘Just keep going down here two more blocks, then take a right into Willingham. You’ll spot Tod’s down on the left. They do a mean chilliburger if you’re interested.’

‘I am now. Thanks.’

Bishop followed the directions and found Tod’s Café less than five minutes later. Situated on a large lot, it was a typical single-storey building with lots of glass at the front and a tall, bold-lettered sign outside. He walked in and saw the place was already half full. He checked his watch. 14.06. The lunchtime crowd was still going strong.

He took a booth next to the window at the end and sat with his back to the wall. Old habits, dying hard. One of the waitresses, a heavyset brunette in her late twenties, came over and handed him a menu. Her nameplate read
Sandy
. He said, ‘The guy outside the antiques store said you do a great chilliburger here, Sandy. That right?’

‘Flynn? Yeah, he’s dead on. He recommend a side order, too? Because our onion rings are something else, believe me.’

Bishop handed the menu back and said, ‘Looks like my choice is made, then. And can I get an iced tea with that?’ She nodded as she wrote down the order and Bishop said, ‘Tell me, Sandy, did you know Selina when she worked here?’

She paused and looked at him. ‘She was a pretty, blonde girl, wasn’t she?’ Bishop nodded and she said, ‘We said hello to each other a few times, but you really need to talk to Gloria. They used to time their breaks so they could go out back together.’

Bishop looked around and saw three other waitresses. ‘Which one’s Gloria?’

‘See the woman over there serving the old couple, about my age with longer hair? That’s her.’

Bishop saw her. ‘Do me a favour, Sandy. Ask her to come over when she gets a spare moment?’

‘Sure thing. I’ll be back with your drink.’

Bishop watched Sandy walk up to Gloria and say something while pointing in Bishop’s direction. Gloria looked over and gave a brief reply before moving off to another customer. Sandy hadn’t said so, but Bishop assumed she smoked during her breaks, which caused him to wonder if Selina had started smoking too. Bishop wouldn’t have been surprised. He knew waitressing was pretty high on the list when it came to stressful jobs.

A minute later, Sandy returned with his drink and said, ‘Gloria said she’ll stop by when she can.’

‘Thanks.’

Bishop sipped at his drink and studied the room. Like him, there were plenty of guys on their own. Manual workers as well as guys in shirts and ties. A few joked with the waitresses as they passed by. Regulars, probably. There were also one or two women dining alone. One in the booth across the aisle kept sneaking glances his way. Without looking directly at her, he could see she was both attractive and of Latino extraction. Probably waiting for her boyfriend. He gave a mental shrug and turned his thoughts back to Selina, wondering how many customers had joked with her when she worked here. The way she looked, guys probably came here when they weren’t even hungry, just so they could talk to her. Maybe more than just talk. A few of them must have worked up the courage to ask her out. Had she turned them all down, or had she decided to risk a date with one? It didn’t seem likely, but he couldn’t discount the possibility.

‘Sandy said you wanted to speak to me?’

Bishop looked up to his right. The thin form of Gloria was standing at his side with one hand on her hip, head tilted slightly. Her blue-grey eyes were focused on his. There was a hint of defiance in them that he liked.

‘I’d just like to ask you a few questions about Selina, if you don’t mind,’ he said. ‘I hear you two were friends.’

‘Are you a policeman or something? ’Cause you sure don’t look like one.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment. No, I’m just another friend who’s concerned for her welfare. She’s been missing for a month now and I want to find her.’