Secure Location - By Beverly Long Page 0,24

possibility of danger in her work space but he wasn’t sure that was it.

“Can you just ask Meg to call me when she gets the chance?” Cruz requested.

Cruz disconnected and used the GPS in his rental car to find his next stop. Ten minutes later, he pulled into a strip mall and located the store. He hadn’t expected to go shopping in San Antonio but in less than twenty-four hours, this would be his second time.

It took him an hour to get what he needed. Ten minutes of that was spent picking out stuff, the other fifty minutes, along with a hundred-dollar bill, was enough for the owner to hem the pants on the spot.

After that, he went looking for Tom Looney. He drove to the address that the hotel had on file but didn’t have high hopes. Meg had said that the word on the street was that Looney had lost his house.

It could not have been much to lose, he decided, once he made his last turn. The narrow street was three blocks off a service road and the houses were double-wides on cement blocks.

He found the mailbox, parked and got out of the car. A skinny black dog, lying near the front steps, looked up but didn’t bother to get up, evidently deciding he wasn’t worth the effort. He knocked on the door and waited several minutes in the blistering heat. Sweat ran down the back of his neck.

Finally, the door opened. An elderly woman, probably mid-seventies, wearing a housedress and no shoes stared at him. “Hello,” she said. Her body might have been frail but her voice was strong, confident.

“Afternoon, ma’am. I’m looking for Tom Looney.”

“You must be a bill collector. I’ll tell you what I told everybody else. I ain’t seen Bertie’s boy since the day I moved in.”

“Bertie?”

“Tommy’s momma. My second cousin. I bought this trailer from them when he started having money trouble. And before you go and ask, I don’t know where Bertie and Tommy went. They didn’t say and I didn’t ask. Good day.” She closed the door.

Cruz could have stuck his foot out, like he’d done with Mason Hawkins. But he knew it wouldn’t do any good. First, he didn’t want to bully an old woman and second, she was either telling the truth and she didn’t know or she was lying and she knew but wouldn’t tell. Either way, she wasn’t going to be helpful.

His cell phone was ringing as he walked back to the car. He glanced at the number and recognized it. As quick as that, his stupid heart started to beat faster. Not so long ago, he’d gotten a couple of these calls every day. Just a quick check-in, a sweet I was thinking of you. “Hi, Meg,” he said.

“I got your message from Charlotte,” she said. Her tone was brisk, businesslike.

He could see her sitting at her fancy wood desk, her short hair pushed behind her ears, maybe a half-empty cup of coffee at her side. No. Scratch that. She’d given up coffee. Just one small sign of how much had changed.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Fine. Busy day,” she said. “How’s it...uh...going for you?”

“Pretty good. I have run into a snag with Troy Blakely and Tom Looney, though. I need more information on them. Previous addresses. Past employers. Stuff that would either be on their employment applications or maybe even background check authorization forms.”

She didn’t respond.

“You still there, Meg?”

“I’ve already given you a lot of information. It doesn’t seem right that I would dig deeper into confidential files to help myself.”

Meg had always been a rule-follower. Had never wanted to use her position to her advantage. Once, when she’d gotten pulled over for a busted taillight, he’d been pissed off that she hadn’t mentioned to the cop that her husband was also one of Chicago’s finest. It was practically a guarantee that she’d have driven on, ticket-free. Everybody did stuff like that.

Not Meg.

“Look, I’m not trying to steal either one of their identities. Once I find them and know that they’re not behind this, I’ll have short-term memory problems and everything I know will be forgotten.”

She sighed. “I’ll have to get the file from the human resources department. Their offices are down the hall.”

“I’ll hold,” he said.

Eight minutes later, he had information he hoped would help. He thought he had enough time to check out a couple of Blakely’s previous employers before he needed to head back to the hotel. “In case I need more