guess. She didn’t really remember.”
“So now what? Can we go talk to Randy?”
“Or is it time to call the cops?”
“Um, Eric?” Britney was calling him.
“She knows your name?” Casey said.
Britney was still talking. “The guy you were asking about? Randy?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s right over there.” She pointed toward the street.
Randy Pinkerton was driving away in a red Camaro.
Casey stood up so fast her coffee spilled. Eric caught the cup, so his hands weren’t free to stop Casey this time.
“Come on, Eric!”
She ran out to their car and waited impatiently for Eric to catch up.
Thornville peeked out at her from his window. Obviously, he had called and warned Randy Pinkerton they were coming.
“Do you want this?” Eric ran up holding out her half-full drink.
“Eric, get in the car!”
He tossed the drink in a trash can and beeped open the car. They jumped in and sped after Randy Pinkerton.
Eric squeezed past a yellow light. “Where do you think he’s going? Home? To warn Les Danver?”
“Which direction are we headed?” Casey grabbed Eric’s iPad and pulled up the GPS. “We’re not going toward Galveston Bay, where Les works.”
“Where’s Pinkerton’s house? See if he comes up in the white pages.”
She struggled to figure out how to find that information, but eventually came up with an address. “Nope. Not going toward that, either.”
“Brothers? Girlfriend?”
“How do I know who his girlfriend is?” But she knew his brothers’ names. “I guess it could be the older brother. Zeke. He lives sort of out this way. Do we think he’s involved?”
Eric groaned as a bakery truck pulled out in front of him, blocking their view of the escaping Pinkerton brother. He rode the truck’s bumper, waiting for a break in the solid yellow line.
Casey flipped through several hits on the iPad. “From what I’m seeing here Zeke is Mr. Upright Citizen. So is Dan. Can’t really find much about Randy. The most recent photos that involve the business just show the older two brothers, but that fits with what Thornville said.”
“Dang it,” Eric said, “where did he go? Do you see him?”
Casey looked up. “We lost him?”
“No. There he is.” They could see the little red car darting around a corner. The bakery truck lumbered straight, so Eric was free to turn after Pinkerton.
“He’s turning again,” Casey said.
“I see him. Why does this look familiar? Did we drive past here before?” Eric realized he was too close, and slowed to put more distance between the cars. “He’s on his phone.”
“Talking to Thornville, maybe?”
“Who knows. Maybe he’s calling his brothers. Or Les Danver. Or even the other guy.”
The Other Guy. Marcus Flatt, the one who creeped out Britney just by stepping into the coffee shop, and who made Thornville shudder, and Elizabeth leave if she saw him coming. A man with shark’s eyes.
“I think I know where we’re going,” Casey announced suddenly.
“You do? Where?”
She held up the GPS and pointed out their route. “We did drive past here before. We’re going back to Harbor Houseboats.”
Chapter Forty-three
Eric let the car drift farther back. “Why would we be going there?”
“A couple of reasons. He’s either going to hide or get something he doesn’t want us to find. He’s meeting the other guys to tell them about us. Or he’s leading us into a trap.”
“Lovely.”
Eric drove even slower.
“If they’re going to hide incriminating evidence we have to get there first.”
“Impossible. He knows where he’s going. We don’t. And they’ve had almost twenty years to get rid of whatever you’re imagining.”
Casey plugged the address of the boat garage into the GPS. The first route it offered seemed to be the one they were already taking. She asked for an alternate way. The one that came up would be less mileage, but was supposed to take seven minutes longer.
“We don’t have a choice,” she said. “You’ll just have to speed.”
Following Casey’s directions, Eric turned at the next intersection, then flew along the town’s streets, slowing at crosswalks and roads, but ignoring posted speed limits. They managed to get close to the boathouse without crashing or getting a ticket, and parked a couple of blocks away. Casey didn’t see Randy’s car, or anyone at all, except for an older couple walking slowly down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, arm in arm, so she got out of the car and began walking toward the boat garage, angling through people’s yards and hoping they didn’t have those big guns Chief Kay had been talking about.
They snuck up on the boathouse the back way, going as quickly as they