JD crossed his arms. “I know. All it took was one person talking . . .”
“And that’s all it might take again. Someone spoke to the reporter. They could talk to someone else.”
“That’s why you’re looking for that person,” JD said pointedly.
Kline frowned. “We’re rectifying that situation, but how about you don’t add to it?”
JD stared at him, and for a moment, Kline thought he might’ve crossed the line. He was able to speak to his boss in ways that no one else could, but even he had to tread lightly sometimes. Especially around this.
“Yes, you’re right,” JD said. He moved back to his desk and sat down. “I’ll work on it.”
Kline relaxed a little and moved to another subject. “We’re still trying to find a new driver for your wife.”
JD tapped the desk. “It’s proving difficult, I know, but we need to find the best for her.”
“Perhaps she’s being a little too picky?”
“I’ll talk to Lydia,” he said. “But she needs the best. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“Of course,” Kline said.
His boss looked deep in thought for a moment. “She seems a little on edge lately. You don’t suppose she knows anything?”
Kline considered that, rerunning in his mind how Lydia had been on the drive home from the party the previous evening. Then he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
JD arced an eyebrow. “You’re sure?”
“I’ll tell you if there’s anything to worry about.”
He glanced at his Rolex watch. “Thank you. I hate to rush you out, but I have another meeting.”
“You need me again at four?”
“Yes.”
Kline nodded and got up. He had plenty to occupy his time. First, finding out what else the police knew.
JD was already on the phone again as he stepped out of the office.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jo raced through Melanie’s backyard, burst through a wood gate, and headed down an alley. She’d been a track star in high school, and she stayed in shape. Her brain fired thoughts at her as she reached the end of the alley. Melanie would tell the officers where she’d gone, and they’d be following. More law enforcement might show up as well, and that gave Jo little time. She had to get to her car before anyone realized where it was parked.
She glanced behind her and saw an officer in the alley. He looked the opposite way, motioned to someone, then ran in that direction. Another uniform appeared and headed her way. Jo ran close to the side of the house at the corner of the block, then stopped and peeked into the street. A sole squad car was parked across from Melanie’s house, and Jo’s SUV was between the squad car and her.
She ran to the SUV, hopped in, flipped a U-turn, and tore down the street. She stayed low as she reached the intersection, just as the uniform reached the end of the alley. He looked her way, then spoke into his lapel radio. She didn’t know if he’d spotted her license plate, but it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t take Holton long to put pieces together and realize who had visited Melanie Gorman. A BOLO would be issued for the SUV, so all officers would be on the lookout. Dack had provided her the vehicle, and it couldn’t be traced. Again, that didn’t matter. Find the vehicle, find her. She had to stay out of sight as best she could, at least until she could get more answers.
She drove several blocks away, watching to see if anyone followed her directly. Everything seemed okay. Then she frowned. She should’ve realized that Melanie had been in contact with the police. That was a mistake, but she didn’t plan to make any more of those.
Jo spotted a four-story parking garage near a shopping complex and headed in. She backed into a space near the exit, where she could see the street and any vehicles that entered, but a driver searching for her would have a harder time seeing her vehicle in the shadows. As she gathered her thoughts, her heart finally stopped racing, and her breathing returned to normal.
She hadn’t done anything wrong, hadn’t broken any laws, but Holton would be suspicious of her. The detective would wonder why she was asking questions. She doubted he knew all about her, that he’d discovered what had happened in Colorado with the biolab. He wouldn’t know that Dale and his cronies might be after her. However, that didn’t make her feel any better. There was now more attention on her, just based on what had happened at Melanie’s. Jo stared at the garage entrance, her mind on what Melanie had told her. Trent had been working on something big, and then he’d been murdered. Not only that, of course—a robbery had occurred at a bank where he had a safety deposit box, one day after he died.
What was going on?
One thing was certain. If she was going to get caught up in Holton’s investigation, at least she was going to get more answers before talking to him. She wanted to speak with John Atchison to see what he knew about Trent. That might prove difficult, now that Holton would probably be looking for her, but she was going to try.
Jo sat in the vehicle and googled Atchison. He was forty-five years old and had worked at the Dallas CBS station for several years after receiving a communications degree from Columbia. His social media accounts were focused on his work and news stories from the station. Nothing she read seemed remotely odd.
In the photos of him she found online, he had wavy blond hair, blue eyes, and a beard. She memorized his features, then checked some other information sites. It didn’t appear that he was married, or that he had children. He lived in a blond-brick house on Hillsdale Lane in Garland, east of the station.
She looked up a number for CBS 11 and called. When a receptionist answered, Jo asked for Atchison and was told he was tied up, but that she could leave a message on his voicemail. She waited until the woman transferred the call, and then she hung up. That gave her one answer she was looking for—Atchison was currently at the station. She didn’t know what hours news producers kept, but she suspected he’d be there most of the day, possibly into the evening. She’d try to talk to him there, and if that didn’t work, she’d keep a low profile for the day and talk to him when he went home. At least she hoped she would.
Melanie was sure to tell the police everything she’d told Jo, which meant that the police might be watching the station, wondering if Jo would show up to talk to him. They’d likely watch the station entrance, but they wouldn’t have resources to look everywhere.
Jo looked up the address. CBS 11 was located in the CBS Tower, a tall, cement-and-reflective-glass building on North Central Expressway. Other office buildings, a hotel, and an apartment complex stood nearby. She studied the area using the street view. Above a breezeway, a walkway connected the station offices from a parking garage, which was probably where Atchison’s vehicle would be. That presented a potential problem. If she had to wait for him to leave, how would she spot his vehicle? She checked the area from every angle visible, then formulated a plan. If Atchison used the parking garage, he could exit onto either the North Central Expressway, or onto Coit Road. The hotel sat across from the tower, where she could see the breezeway. If she spotted Atchison, she could follow.
Her Escape was a problem, though. She debated leaving it and renting another vehicle. But what if Holton—or worse yet, anyone else who might be after her—were monitoring her credit card activity? They’d know what vehicle she rented. She shook her head in disgust. It was a risk to keep driving the SUV, and a risk to rent a vehicle. After careful consideration, she settled on the SUV. That way, she wouldn’t have to waste time at a car rental agency, and she could focus on talking to Atchison.
Next, she searched online for a Walmart, finding one a few miles away. She started the SUV and exited the garage, taking a series of right turns to circle the building, but she didn’t see any cars tailing her. On the way to the store, she kept a watchful eye for any surveillance or law enforcement. She parked among the other vehicles in the lot, then went inside the Walmart and bought black tape, snacks, and water. After using the bathroom, she returned to the SUV, and when no one was watching, she altered a number and a letter on the license plate. Upon close inspection, it wouldn’t fool anybody, but if a squad car passed as she was driving, they might not notice the tape.
When she finished, she headed to the CBS Tower, keeping to the speed limit and following traffic rules, careful to not draw any attention to her vehicle. On the way, she saw a squad car approaching in the opposite lane. She turned her head as it drove by, then looked in the rearview mirror. It slowed, but then kept on.
Jo made a right onto a side street and meandered north, not seeing any more law enforcement vehicles. Once on US-75, she hit a snag in traffic, and several minutes later, she neared the CBS Tower. She exited the highway and approached on Coit Road, parking in the nearby hotel lot as she’d planned. She quickly spotted a sedan with someone inside parked down the street. It stayed put, and she guessed it was an unmarked vehicle.
She kept an eye on it, and the CBS Tower, as she called CBS 11 once more, asking for Atchison. He was still there, still busy, and she was offered his voicemail again. She declined and ended the call.
Across the street, the sedan remained in place. Jo stayed low and used the binoculars to study the vehicle. A man she didn’t recognize sat behind the wheel, a bored look on his face as he eyed the area. After watching for a few minutes, she knew he was a plainclothes detective, on surveillance. Looking for her? Trees shielded her vehicle, and she was sure he hadn’t noticed her. She hunkered down, ready for a long wait. Cars entered and exited the CBS Tower parking garage, and she was able to get good views of the drivers with the binoculars. Shadows grew longer as the sun lowered in the sky. Then a black BMW emerged from the parking garage, headed toward Coit Road. A man with blond hair and a beard was driving.