“A day older than yesterday,” Bob said wearily. “And thankfully, a day younger than tomorrow.”
She pursed her lips, as if warding off tears, the implication setting in. “Well… I’m sorry,” she said. “But that was really scary.”
She’s not built for this. Say something nice. “It was good thinking, driving past the back door.”
She sobbed a little. “I didn’t. I just saw you at the last second, is all.”
Ah, Hell. “Still, good timing anyway,” Bob said. “And you were very brave, sitting there trapped by him.”
She shook it off, wiping a tear away with her sleeve. “What now? The police are going to have camera footage from the restaurant.”
“He attacked me without even confronting you,” Bob said. “They’ll think it’s between us, and they’re already looking for me. If you’re lucky, whoever reviews it doesn’t recognize you. It’s not that small a city, right? If nothing else, we know Baird’s using his own guy for heavy lifting. That gives us another viable suspect.”
“You think he killed my father?” Sharmila said.
“Given what just went down, it’s seriously possible.”
“So we need to find him, make him talk.” She said it with the zeal of a Grand Inquisitor. Then she frowned. “How?”
“Modern medicine,” Bob said. “That and a visit to your clinic.”
“Because…”
“We need someone with access to Jenkins’s medical records, and you mentioned the clinic handled their medicals last year.”
“And…”
“And his records will have his home address. And we know he’ll have medical records, because based on the inhaler in his top pocket, Greg Thomas has asthma.”
50CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
Dawn Ellis stood at the clinic exam room basin as the warm water doused her hands and she stared off into space. She was tired, worried about Marcus, worried she still hadn’t heard anything from Bob after two more days.
What if something happened to him, with Marcus still inside? No one would be there for the boy.
It seemed less convincing every time Bob told her to stay away. She knew his history, had seen the death and pain that could surround him. But it had been nearly a year, and he’d hardly kept a low profile. Where Bob went, trouble followed or quickly reared its head.
And yet, no arrest, no government team hunting them as in DC.
She’d prayed on it the night before, asking God whether a guy like Bob could ever have a semblance of peace. Usually, just asking the question, looking for the answer, offered some measure of comfort. But this time, she’d wanted a definitive answer, and it hadn’t been apparent.
Even if he could just be left alone, enough to have real friends. To make his own family.
“You okay, girl? Dawn!”
“Hmmmnh?”
Her co-worker at the community clinic was snapping her fingers. “You’re tripping about something.”
Dawn shook her head briefly to clear the cobwebs. “I had a poor night’s sleep, Joceyln. My apologies.
The other nurse pointed to the tap. “You’re going to wash your fingers off if you don’t turn that tap off sometime soon.”
Dawn blushed and did as suggested.
The day sped by, and Dawn found herself walking home at twice the normal pace.
The burner phone was in the bottom drawer of her clothes chest, nestled under some old slips she didn’t wear anymore. She’d made up her mind to call back hours earlier but had spent the day worrying Bob would be annoyed.
It had only been forty-eight hours, after all. But he’d promised he would talk to Marcus, and she’d assumed he meant he’d call back and tell her what the boy said.
She got home and hung her coat before the door had swung shut. She hustled back to the bedroom and retrieved the burner from the bottom drawer, then speed-dialed Bob’s phone.
The phone rang twice, then went to a recording. “The number you are trying cannot be reached. Please hang up and try your call again.”
She ended the call, fairly slapping the red button on the screen.
That wasn’t good. He was too careful to just let the phone die. That meant he’d abandoned it.
Or that he was in trouble and couldn’t get to it.
She took her purse off her shoulder and fished for her regular phone, throwing the purse on the bed. She dialed a number.
“Dawn. What’s up?”
“Hi, Del. Sorry to get you after hours. I need to book a few days off. Parent stuff.” Her boss knew she’d adopted Marcus, that it came with challenges.
“You’ve still got hours in lieu owed. I can get someone else in.”
