34
When they were back at the Suburban, Herb called to report that one of his contacts on Street Twitter had spotted Rudy Cutter. Frost gunned the engine of the Suburban and headed for the 280 freeway, which was the fastest way back uptown. Unfortunately, in late-afternoon San Francisco, there was no way to get anywhere fast. Every route was a parking lot.
“Where are we heading?” Eden asked him.
“The library at the Civic Center. Cutter was there.”
He wondered if it was a mistake to tell her everything about the investigation. He’d already decided that it was safer to keep her close than to push her away, but their interests were likely to diverge sooner or later. He’d sacrifice her book and keep things from her if it meant getting Cutter. She’d sacrifice just about anything if it meant a better story.
Her expression, the wary smile on her face, was obvious. She seemed to read his mind and know that he was doubting her.
“We want the same thing, Frost,” Eden reassured him.
“Do we? I thought you just wanted a bestseller.”
“I want Cutter back behind bars. Or dead, if it comes to that. That’s how the book is supposed to end. With justice.”
“Then you’re right. We want the same thing.”
But he wasn’t convinced, and she knew it.
“Do you mind if I ask you an uncomfortable question?” she said.
“That seems to be your specialty.”
“Why aren’t we having sex? I’ve made it pretty obvious that I’m interested, haven’t I?”
“Yes, you have.”
“Well? Most men don’t play hard to get with me.”
“I think you’ve got the wrong idea about why I suggested you stay with me,” Frost said.
“I don’t think so. Like I said, we want the same thing.”
Frost kept driving with his eyes on the road. “Are you always so direct?”
“Aussie girls aren’t shy about what we want. We usually get it, too.”
“And then you write about it in your book?” he asked.
“Maybe, but you shouldn’t let that scare you. I don’t give performance reviews.” She smiled at him. “Unless you turn out to be Iron Man, that is.”
“You’re a public person, Eden. I’m not. I like to keep it that way.”
“At least let me make dinner for us tonight,” she suggested. “Wine. Candlelight. No book talk. It’s my way of saying thanks for letting me stay with you and being my protector. Then we can see what happens.”
“Sorry, I have a family dinner tonight,” he told her. “It’s my parents, plus Duane and his girlfriend.”
“You mean Tabby Blaine?” she asked with a penetrating stare.
“That’s right.”
Eden was silent for a while. Then she said, “Well, maybe I’ll wait up for you.”
They didn’t talk the rest of the way.
Frost finally exited the freeway and wound through the streets to the Civic Center. He parked outside the library building, and he and Eden made their way into the atrium. Herb was waiting near the elevators with a scrawny black man wearing a jean jacket covered in patches. Herb had a suitcase with him, in which he typically carried his painting supplies.
“Thanks for calling,” Frost told Herb. “I think you’ve met Eden Shay before.”
Herb’s mouth broke into a little smirk. “Indeed I have. Hello, Ms. Shay. And both of you, this is my friend Bike. He’s the one who spotted Rudy Cutter in the computer room on the fifth floor.”
The man in the jean jacket looked nervous talking to a cop. He twisted an old Alcatraz baseball cap between his fingers. “I rode up in the elevator with him first. I was telling him about my motorcycle magazines, but he didn’t say much. Then, yeah, just like Herb says, I saw him again, and he was using one of the computers.”
“When was this?” Frost asked.
Bike glanced at the clock in the atrium. “About two hours ago, I guess.”
“Can you show us where?”
“Oh yeah. Sure.”
Herb leaned in. “I took the liberty of asking the librarians upstairs to take the specific unit offline that Cutter was using. I didn’t want someone accidentally deleting any of the cache.”
“Good thinking,” Frost agreed. He said to Bike, “Did you recognize this man immediately?”
“No, I was thinking he looked familiar, but I didn’t put it together until later, when I saw him leaving. There was some kind of argument in the computer room, and Black Hoodie hightailed out of there fast.”
Eden smiled. “Black Hoodie?”
“Yeah, that’s what he was wearing. Black hoodie, jeans, shades.”
“But you got a good look,” Frost said. “You’re sure it was him.”
“Oh yeah, he’s the guy you want.”
“How long was he at the computer before he left?” Frost asked.
“Not very long. I don’t think it was more than five minutes or so. Like I said, there was an argument. Some other guy reserved the computer, so he basically kicked your guy out. Hoodie didn’t put up a protest. He just left. He looked squirrelly, like he wanted out of here fast.”
“Did he know that you’d recognized him?”
“Hard to say. Like I said, I didn’t realize who he was until he was almost gone. Then I remembered that Herb had posted something about this guy out on Street Twitter.”
“We need to hurry,” Frost said. “Cutter might be coming back, and I don’t want him to know we’re on to him.”
Herb hoisted his suitcase in the air. “I had the same thought. I figured this would be a good time to bring my sidewalk art to the front of the library, don’t you think? I’ve been looking to do a 3-D landscape of Angel Falls in Venezuela. I went BASE jumping there a while back. It’s not for the faint of heart.”
“Is there anything you haven’t done, Herb?” Frost asked.
“I have a fairly long bucket list,” his friend replied with a shrug. “Anyway, I’ll set up shop outside. If I spot Cutter on his way back, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.”
Frost, Eden, and Bike took the elevator to the fifth floor. At the glass wall outside the computer center, Bike pointed to the unit that Cutter had been using. The computer was turned off, and a handwritten sign had been taped to the monitor that read, “Out of Service.”
Frost thanked Bike with a twenty-dollar bill, and then he and Eden found the nearest librarian, whose name tag said Wally. Wally could have been an inspiration for his namesake in the Dilbert cartoons. He was short, round, bald, and wore glasses. Frost showed him his badge and spoke in a low voice so that the other patrons around them couldn’t hear their conversation.
“Thanks for keeping everyone off that machine,” Frost said.
“Of course. Herb said it was important.”
Frost smiled to himself. Everyone in San Francisco knew Herb.
“Do you remember the man who was sitting there?” Frost asked. He found a photo of Rudy Cutter on his phone. “Is this him?”
“I wish I could tell you, but I can’t,” the librarian replied. “There was a disagreement about the computer being reserved, but I didn’t see the face of the man who left. He wore some kind of hooded sweatshirt.”
“Has anyone used the machine since then?” Frost asked.
“Well, the other man didn’t stay long. Another ten minutes or so. There may have been one or two other users who sat down before Herb asked us to take the unit offline, but no more than that.”
“Okay. Thanks. If this man comes back, don’t approach him, and don’t give any sign that you’ve recognized him. But send me a text right away.” He handed the librarian his card.
“I will.”
Frost and Eden sat down in chairs in front of the computer. He peeled off the sign and booted up the machine. They sat shoulder to shoulder. He was aware of the perfume she wore.