She looked at the other two documents and noted that Harper lived on the central coast of California, and worked as a-
“That can’t be right,” she muttered.
But it didn’t appear to be a typo. Harper was an auto mechanic. She’d expected something in law enforcement, even private investigator, not some grease monkey who specialized in changing oil.
So why are you even here, Mr. Harper?
Whatever that reason was, the answer wasn’t in the information in front of her.
She brought the map back up and saw that Harper’s car was on the move. She watched the dot until it merged onto the interstate heading west.
“And where are we going this morning?”
Shifting into reverse, she pulled out of her parking spot and headed for the freeway.
Fifteen minutes after she hit the interstate, Clausen called.
“You’re going to find this interesting.”
“What’s that?” Erica asked.
“The guy who got beat up was just released from the hospital.”
“Were you able to talk to him?”
“Not yet. But that’s not the interesting part.”
Erica frowned. She didn’t like games. “Then what is?”
“One of the two men who picked him up is named Neal Harper.”
Her mind flashed onto Harper’s military history. His next of kin-wasn’t it a Neal Harper? Yes, it was.
“Did you hear me?” Clausen asked.
“Sorry. I did. Older? Younger?”
“Older, definitely. I’d say seventysomething.”
Logan Harper’s dad?
“So how would you like us to proceed?” Clausen asked.
Erica thought for a moment, then smiled, and told him exactly what she wanted them to do.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Logan and Dev reached theWilliams turnoff just before nine thirty a.m. They followed Diana’s instructions and headed north on State Route 64. Logan had been hoping to hear back from Ruth by now, but she hadn’t called.
Around the twenty-minute mark, Dev started glancing at the odometer. Finally he said, “That’s twenty-eight miles.”
Logan focused on the edge of the road, looking for the white X, but there was only a solid white line, three feet from where the asphalt ended.
“Twenty-nine,” Dev said, slowing some more.
Still nothing.
“Twenty-nine and a half.”
White line.
“Twenty-nine point seven…point eight…point nine…and here comes-”
“There it is,” Logan said, spotting the marker.
“-thirty,” Dev finished. He pulled the El Camino to the side of the road.
Logan had seen similar Xs on roads before, and knew precisely a mile ahead they’d find a second one. The Xs were markers highway patrol helicopters could use to gauge a car’s speed.
Logan looked around. The area was covered with low shrubs for as far as he could see. In the distance, hills and mountains sporadically jutted up from the ground, altering what would have been an otherwise flat horizon.
Logan checked his watch. It was a few minutes shy of ten a.m., more than thirty minutes left on Diana’s deadline. He’d been hoping she was waiting for them, but unlike in Flagstaff where the forest surrounded the road, there was nowhere here for anyone to hide. Logan and Dev were the only ones around.
Logan opened the door and got out to stretch. Though he couldn’t see it from here, not too much farther to the north was the Grand Canyon. The only real indication of this was the constant traffic on the road.
He looked at his watch again and then chastised himself. Checking the time wouldn’t bring Diana here any faster.
If she’s coming at all.
He gritted his teeth and tried to push that thought away, but it wouldn’t disappear completely. He walked several feet into the brush and considered giving his dad a call. He did owe Harp an update, but his pay-as-you-go phone didn’t come with call waiting or voice mail and he didn’t want to chance missing Ruth. He looked back at the unevenly spaced traffic on the road, each car merely another blob of paint and metal racing by.
“Come on, Diana. Where are you?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“Are you hungry?” Barney asked.
He and Harp had brought Pep back to the Desert Inn, and given him one of the beds in their room.
“I’m fine,” Pep said.
He carefully lifted his legs one at a time onto the mattress, then leaned against the headboard, his arm wrapped around his damaged ribs.
Barney grimaced. “I still can’t believe they let you go.”
“Don’t worry about it. They kept waking me up at the hospital. At least here I might be able to get some sleep.”
Though Barney didn’t want to admit it, it was a fair point.
“I could use some water,” Pep said.
“Let me,” Harp offered.
While he disappeared into the back sink area where they were storing the bottled water they’d bought, Barney picked up the TV remote from the nightstand and held it out to Pep.
“Feel free to watch whatever you want,” he said.
Pep smiled. “Thanks.”
As the TV came on, Harp reentered the room holding two bottles.
“This is all we have left,” he said. He gave one to Pep and tossed the other to Barney. “Why don’t I go over to that store across the street and get some more?”
Barney reached for his wallet. “You need some money?”
Waving him off, Harp said, “I got it.” As had become his habit anytime he left the room, he tucked the copy of Lost Horizon under his arm before opening the door.
“Oh,” Barney said as Harp stepped outside. “Get some Gatorade, too. That’ll be good for him.”
“Anything else?” Harp asked.
Barney and Pep shook their heads.
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as the door closed, Barney stretched out on the other bed and made himself comfortable. On the TV, the images flew by as Pep flipped through the channels, searching for something to watch. He ended up stopping on Judge Judy.
“Really?” Barney asked.
Pep chuckled. “These people are all idiots. I love watching them make fools of themselves.”
It was definitely not the show Barney would have chosen, but Pep was the patient, and the patient got what he wanted. Barney leaned back and closed his eyes, figuring he’d catch a few minutes’ rest before Harp got back.
When he opened them again, he felt like his body was covered in molasses. It took extra effort to sit up. He always felt this way if he slept for more than fifteen minutes.
On the other bed, Pep was snoring, the remote moving up and down on his chest. A gunshot rang out from the TV, causing Barney to look over. Though the channel number was the same as before, Judge Judy was gone and a rerun of some cop show was playing.
He checked his watch, and thought perhaps it was broken. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. It said the same thing-12:07 p.m. When Barney lay down, it had only been a little after eleven.
“Harp?” he said, holding his voice down so he wouldn’t wake Pep.
There was no answer.
He got to his feet and walked to the bathroom.
“Harp?”
No one was there.
Must have gone back out when he saw we were asleep.
But if that was the case, where was the water or the Gatorade?
Barney slipped on his shoes, grabbed his phone, and went outside. From the walkway he could see the store where Harp was headed, but Harp was nowhere in sight.
With growing anxiety, he called Harp’s phone.
Two rings, then voice mail.
“Hey, where are you?” Barney asked once the beep sounded. “Thought you were coming right back. Just…well…call me.”