Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,45
everyone.”
Tabitha’s heart sank. The pub would be packed tomorrow, and there was no way he’d make time to pay her. A sour lump clogged her throat as she thought about waiting another day or maybe two. She’d hardly slept since that phone message. She couldn’t eat. Her nerves were raw, and her stomach seemed to be filled with battery acid.
He glanced up from the file. “Don’t flake out on me, Red.”
“No, I’ll be here.”
But she knew she wouldn’t.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
JACOB DUCKED UNDER the yellow tape and pulled open the door to the liquor store. Kendra stood beside a display of mini tequila bottles near the cash register. She had a notebook in her hand and was interviewing a middle-aged guy on a stool behind the counter as he rubbed his forehead and looked distraught.
Jacob caught Kendra’s eye, and she walked over.
“What do we have?” he asked.
“Two men, both in ski masks. One gun.”
“What kind?”
“A black pistol. Big, according to the clerk.”
Jacob glanced at the man. Any pistol looked big if it was aimed at your face.
“Our witness here says they came in through the back. Someone had left the door propped open, so there could be a third accomplice. They made him empty the register at gunpoint and bumped into his stock boy on the way out and took a shot at him, getting him in the arm. He’s at Seton Hospital. Stock boy says they took off in a dark gray sedan. We don’t have the make and model yet.”
“Cameras?”
“Trujillo’s in the back office working on that. He says the whole thing’s on tape.”
“Good.”
“You see Bailey?” Kendra asked.
“No. Where?”
She nodded toward the door. “Outside. She was talking to some bystanders when I pulled in. Must have caught it on the scanner.”
Jacob resisted the urge to go looking for her.
“She asked me if you were here,” Kendra said pointedly. Then she looked back at the witness, who was bent over the stool, clutching his knees. “I need to finish getting this guy’s statement before he loses his lunch. Meet me in back and we’ll go over the security footage.”
Jacob left the store and ducked back under the scene tape. He spotted Bailey at the side of the building, leaning against the trunk of her white Toyota and talking on her phone as she flipped through a notepad. She ended her call as Jacob approached.
This evening she wore cutoff shorts and flip-flops, and her press pass dangled on a lanyard around her neck. Jacob made an effort not to stare at her legs.
“Hi,” she said.
“They call you back in for this?”
“I was out grabbing dinner. Max picked it up on the scanner.” She looked at the store entrance.
“Is the clerk okay?”
“He will be.”
“I hear the guy at the hospital has a flesh wound,” she said.
She didn’t ask him to confirm, and he didn’t.
“Listen, can you talk for a minute?” she asked.
“Sure.”
She glanced at the patrol officer who was stationed beside the door. He was close enough to eavesdrop, and Jacob followed Bailey to the passenger side, where she rummaged through the glove compartment for a fresh notepad. She set it on the roof of her car and held her pen poised, as though she were interviewing him about the crime at hand.
Apparently, she didn’t want the other cops on the scene to think they had a personal relationship.
“I went back to Villa Paloma,” she said in a low voice.
“Why?”
“Dana Smith spent a lot of time in the library there, using their computers. I checked all the caches.”
Jacob’s irritation battled with his curiosity. He’d been by Villa Paloma and interviewed several people, but he hadn’t thought to check the library computers. Bailey was one step ahead of him, and that didn’t sit well. What if she stumbled into something dangerous? It could have happened already.
“I thought you were done with this story,” he said.
“I didn’t say I was done. I said the story was on hold. At least the profile is. Now it could be scuttled altogether.”
“So, why are you still working on it?”
She tipped her head to the side. “Don’t you want to know what I found?”
“What did you find?”
“Nothing. She cleared all the caches after each use, apparently. So there’s no way of knowing if she visited social media sites that might have tipped off someone searching for her.”
Clearing caches wasn’t a permanent way to erase someone’s tracks, but he didn’t bother saying that. He wanted Bailey to drop the story, not get more immersed.
She eased closer. Just a fraction, but it