Distortion (Moonlighters Series) (19 page)
Time was running out. Juliet grabbed Amber’s phone out of Holly’s hand and pulled her cap low over her hair, then opened the door and got out.
“Juliet!” Holly whispered harshly.
Juliet ignored her and walked through the Zaxby’s parking lot, crossed the Enterprise Rent-A-Car lot, and reached the bank. As she passed parked cars, she checked to see if anyone was in them. No one waited there.
But could Amber be watching through the bank windows?
As Juliet approached Amber’s car, she heard the baby crying. Her heart melted. She went closer, pretending to get into the car next to Amber, then acted as if she’d dropped something. Stooping, she opened the back door and looked in at the baby. His little face glistened with tears. He looked at her, his feet kicking, his fists punching the air.
“It’s okay, Robbie,” she said, setting the phone and battery on the floorboard in front of him.
What kind of mother was this woman? What had Bob seen in her?
She forced herself to close the door and kept stooping as she crossed behind the cars on that row. Then she stood and headed back to her van.
She had to do something. She couldn’t let the baby stay in that hot car.
When she got back to the van, Holly looked ready to jump out of her skin. “Where’d you put it?”
“On the floorboard in the backseat. Give me your phone, Holly. I’m calling the police, but I don’t want them to see my name on their caller ID.”
“So you’re letting them see mine?”
“You weren’t married to their most recent murder victim!”
Holly handed Juliet her phone. Juliet called 911.
“Bay County 911, what’s your emergency?”
Juliet cleared her throat. “I’m at the Bay Bank and Trust on Krieger Avenue, and there’s a baby that someone left in a white Lexus. It’s crying and sweating, and it must be over a hundred degrees in that car.”
They asked her name, and she said she’d rather not give it. They would get Holly’s number and think it was Holly, but that was all right. The last name of Cramer wouldn’t raise red flags like Cole would.
Juliet and Holly waited in the car, watching. Within minutes, a police cruiser pulled into the parking lot—just as Amber came out the back door of the bank.
“Uh-oh. She’s going back to her car.”
The cop got out and met Amber at the car, looked at the baby through the window, and seemed to be giving Amber a lecture. She got into the car and turned the ignition, probably
turning the air conditioner on. She was smiling, flipping her hair, explaining, and the cop seemed to be listening. Finally, he turned and went back to his car.
“Oh man,” Holly said. “He’s just giving her a warning.”
“Well, maybe it’ll make her quit doing it. That poor baby.”
Amber pulled out of the parking lot, and Juliet gave her a head start, then tailed her again.
“Thanks for putting the phone back,” Holly muttered. “I could have done it myself.”
“I didn’t want you doing it.”
“You’re not my mother.”
Juliet didn’t answer. She just tried to concentrate on Amber’s car.
A
mber tried not to panic. Where was her phone? She had just realized that it hadn’t rung in a long time, and when she reached for it, it was gone. She racked her brain, trying to think back.
Had she left it at the first bank? The second?
Robbie wouldn’t stop crying, and she looked back, found the pacifier, and stuck it into his mouth. He spat it out and kept screaming. “Hold on!” she said. “Just wait! Mommy will feed you when we get home. I have to think!”
But her voice and tone only made Robbie cry harder. She turned the air conditioner on high, hoping the cool air would calm him down. Could she have dropped her phone? What if someone had picked it up at the bank? She was supposed to hear from the transporters. If they couldn’t reach her, they might get spooked and not make the delivery. Her heart pounded. What was she going to do?
She pulled over into a parking lot, unfastened her seat belt, and looked on her floorboard and under her feet. Nothing. She searched between the two front seats, then went around the car and looked on the floorboard of the passenger seat. No, she hadn’t dropped it.
Why hadn’t she locked her car?
Robbie kept screaming. She got into the backseat and dug through the diaper bag for a bottle. She found a half bottle of formula from earlier that morning. Hoping it hadn’t soured, she stuck it in his mouth. He hushed and took the bottle in his own hands, sucking desperately.
Think!
Trembling, she got back into the driver’s seat, trying to decide what to do. She’d just have to retrace her steps. When was the last time she’d seen it? She tried to remember. Lenny had called before she went into the first bank, and he’d told her he was going to call back. What was he thinking now?
They had never fully accepted her. But hadn’t she proven herself, setting up Bob’s murder? She had told them where he would be and when. Still, if anything went wrong, they would question her loyalty, or her competence. It was a terrible day to lose her phone.
As she drove back to the first bank, she turned the air conditioner vents on herself. She was sweating.
Had she taken the phone in with her? Why was this such a hard thing to remember? She was always misplacing her keys too. She just had too much on her mind. Bob always chided her for that, and for not locking her car door when there were valuables inside.
He’d noticed that one time when the baby was in the car. “Anyone could kidnap him,” he’d told her. “When our kids were babies, Juliet would never have left them alone in a car.”
That had enraged her. “I don’t care what Juliet would do, so stop throwing her up to me.”
“You’ve got to do better than this, Amber. You’re a mother now.”
Grudgingly, she had promised him that she wouldn’t leave Robbie in the car anymore without at least the air conditioner running, and she would lock the car. But she often forgot.
That was probably why he’d never given her access to the bank accounts.
She pulled into the lot of a convenience store, looking for a pay phone, but there wasn’t one. Had the phone company taken them all out? Frantic, she drove up the long, busy road until she spotted one. She got out and hurried to it, but she didn’t know how to use it. Then she found the slot for her debit card, slid it in, and waited for the dial tone. When she got it, she dialed Lenny Miller’s number. He didn’t pick up, probably because he didn’t recognize the number, so she left a message: “Lenny, it’s me, Amber. I’ve misplaced my phone. I don’t know what happened to it, but I need you to call me at this number. I’m on a pay phone. I’ll wait a few minutes until I hear from you.”
She hung up, waited, hoping he didn’t ignore his messages. If he was trying to get in touch with her, maybe he would listen. She paced in front of the car until Robbie started crying again. Why had she brought him with her? He was driving her nuts. She should have taken him to the daycare center in spite of his fever, or gotten a babysitter. She had too much on her mind—she couldn’t worry about him too.
She opened the car door and leaned in. “What is it? What do you want?”
Vomit dribbled down his chin. She cursed and reached into the diaper bag for a wipe, scrubbed the mess off his face and
chest. She would need to change his clothes now. This was getting ridiculous.
And his incessant crying was like a sledgehammer on her skull.
She unhooked his safety strap and pulled him out, trying to avoid getting vomit on her clothes. Suddenly the pay phone rang. She carried Robbie with her to answer it, but he wouldn’t stop crying.
What a nightmare. What was she going to do?
She couldn’t risk missing the call, so she picked up the receiver and tried to hear over the wailing. “Hello?”
“Amber?”
“Lenny! Finally!”
“What’s going on with you? What do you mean, you lost your phone? On a day like today, when we have to communicate?”
“Don’t lecture me!” she said. “I don’t know what happened to it. I was going to the banks and somewhere along the way my phone disappeared.”
“I’ve been trying to call you for an hour. Have you looked in your car?”
“Yes, and it’s not there.”
“Well, look again.”
The baby was screaming; she bounced him, trying to distract him. “Why were you calling?”
“I wanted to know if you’d heard from them yet. Apparently you haven’t, since you lost your phone like some ditzy teenager.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind!” she bit out. “I doubt you could do better. I’m on top of things.”
“Really?” he asked. “You got the baby with you, I can hear him. How could you be on top of things?”
“He’s sick,” she said. “I couldn’t take him to daycare. He’s throwing up—they just would have sent him back home.”
“Then get somebody else to take care of him. You need your head in the game.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Amber said. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Well, if you don’t find the phone in the next few minutes, come by my place. I have some extra Go Phones. You can use one of those.”
“All right, I will.”
“What about the accounts? Any luck?”
“No. They want all sorts of paperwork to prove I’m his wife. I need to forge some documents before I go back.”
“This isn’t going well, Amber. You led me to believe you could get into those accounts. I went out on a limb for you.”
“I never told you for sure I could. I told you I’d try.”
“I’m losing faith in you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Lenny, I think I’ve proven myself. I just need a little more time. Work with me here.”
“We can’t mess this up. And you have to communicate with the transporter. You’re the only one he knows to contact. We have to change the delivery point. The feds will be looking for properties Bob owned. We can’t use that place again.”
“I know,” she said. “You don’t have to remind me. Just calm down. I doubt they’ve tried to call yet.”
She hung up and put Robbie back in his car seat, vomit and all. She didn’t have time to change him. She got back in behind the wheel, searched her purse and the front floorboard again, and then gave up. She would just have to go to Lenny’s and get one of his prepaid phones. Then she’d work on getting another phone from her cell company so her regular number would be running again.
At least her voice mail would still be working, even if she couldn’t access it yet. But would they dare leave a message?
They probably wouldn’t, for fear of being caught. The whole operation was so segmented and compartmentalized that none of the major operators even knew who the others were.
She knew the transporter only because Bob sometimes couldn’t take calls, so he set her up as a secondary source. And she knew only first names. Lenny was the only one she knew personally, because he had recruited her.
If she messed this up, she could wind up like Bob. She had to come through today so they wouldn’t distrust her.
Except that in this line of work, nobody trusted anybody. Results were all they cared about. She had to make sure she got them.
M
ichael checked his watch. So far, his surveillance of the Harper brothers had been a waste.
His income-producing work was piling up, and here he was doing virtually nothing. But this was one of the few leads he had.
His phone vibrated, and he touched the Bluetooth in his ear. “Michael Hogan.”
“Michael, Sid Griffin here. How’s it going, man?”
Relief flooded through him. The owner of the security company he’d been trying to get in touch with. He took a few minutes to catch up with the man he’d been a cop with in their younger days, before Sid had left to start his company. Then Michael told him what they needed.
“Yeah, I remember that. Kind of a weird job, but it’s none of my business. He paid a pretty penny for it.”
“So what do we need to do to get his wife access?”
“When I get back, I’ll sit down with her. I’ll need proof
she’s his next of kin, but once I have it, I’ll reconfigure the codes and scans so she can get in.”
“Any way we could e-mail you the proof and get the codes over the phone?”
“No, won’t work. This place has fingerprint and retina scans. I’ll have to scan hers and put them into the computer so his system will recognize her. It has to be done in person. I can’t get any of my staff to do it because I’m the only other one with access. But I’ll be traveling back tomorrow.”
Michael let out a sigh, but he knew Sid wouldn’t budge. “Okay, but can you at least give us the address?”
Sid paused. “You don’t know the address? How’d you know about the place?”
“We found a business card with your info on it. When I called your office, they confirmed that they had wired something for Bob. But we need to see the place.”
“Sure. It’s 542 Court Boulevard.”
Michael frowned as he jotted it down. Court Boulevard. That was a residential neighborhood. Not what he’d expected.
When he got off the phone, he put the address into his phone’s GPS. Just as he thought—it was in North Bay, near the Hathaway Bridge and Pretty Bayou.
He drove across town and found the subdivision. It was called King’s Point. The homes were on the bay, with boat slips and private docks. They must be seven-figure homes.
He counted down the numbers on the mailboxes, slowing as he grew closer. It was an even number, so it would be on the water side.
He finally came to 542. The house wasn’t visible from the street. It hid behind painted block walls with an iron gate at the entrance. He pulled up to the curb, got out, and peered
through the black bars. The house was Spanish ranch style, not as attractive as the others in the neighborhood. Past the house, he could see a canal behind it, an offshoot of the bay. From where he stood, he didn’t see a boat.
He shook the gate. It was solid, unmoving. Probably remote-controlled by whomever lived here. There was a button to push to communicate with the house. He thought of ringing it, coming up with some pretense for being here, but then decided to do a little more homework first.