Living with the Dead - By Kelley Armstrong Page 0,45
I saw a pay phone number and thought the local cranks with alien abduction stories had tracked me down already. It usually takes them—” She stopped. “Why are you calling from a pay phone? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Well, nothing I can’t handle.” Oh yeah, one hour on the job and she was bragging already. “There was a guy hanging around our motel room—”
“What?” The alarm in Hope’s voice rose. “Did he knock? Try to break in?”
“No, no, he just skulked around.” Skulked? She was picking up a new vocabulary, too. “At first I thought it might be the kid you saw last night.” Smooth. She thought it was a harmless kid, no need to mention Judd’s killer . . . “So I wanted to see where he went.”
“You followed him?”
“Carefully.”
Ooh, you sound ticked off, Bobby. How dare she question your skulking competence.
She shushed Damon’s voice and hurried on assuring Hope that she’d been very careful, staying in public, populated areas.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I remember my stranger danger classes.” There was a lightness in her voice she hadn’t felt in a long time.
As if surprised by Robyn’s tone, Hope gave a soft laugh. “Okay, then. Remember, though, just because he hasn’t given any sign that he knows you’re following him doesn’t mean he doesn’t.”
“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