“Alright. So we head to the downtown depot?” Anchor asked.
I stared out the window. We were so close, but we couldn’t catch her. And it seemed like each time we missed her, things got a little worse. The mugging. Aaron Simmons. The AMBER Alert. Now these girls. I wasn’t sure how many more chances we were going to get to catch her.
“Yeah,” I said. “Hurry.”
THIRTY-SIX
The clouds had cleared and the sun sat directly in front of us as we drove southward. The northern part of San Diego County had exploded since I’d last spent any real time there, nearly every empty space filled with homes, businesses and people. What used to be considered a place that you only went when you had to was now where many San Diego residents called home. And with the surge in population in the northern counties, the southbound traffic on I-5 had snarled even further and even in the middle of the day, we were doing less than the speed limit, stopping and surging every few minutes.
Lauren clung to my arm in the back seat, her arm snaked around mine as she stared out the window. Something had changed in her body language and I couldn’t read it. I assumed it was just the tension of knowing that it seemed likely that Elizabeth had been strong-armed into boarding the train in Oceanside. It had unnerved me, too. It was one thing to think of all the terrible things that could happen to her when I didn’t know where she was or what she was doing. It was entirely different to actually see it on video, to see her alive and see something uncomfortable happen to her and be powerless to stop it from occurring.
We cut through the canyons south of Del Mar and the hillsides disappeared, the bay and the beach communities appearing like they’d suddenly been dropped there. A thin layer of afternoon fog hung over the water, shrouding everything in a damp white haze.
The old Santa Fe Depot was in the northwest corner of the downtown area and had remained the same for as long I could remember. Huge Spanish arches, dark wooden benches, homeless people with full shopping carts skirting the building. When I was a kid, we’d taken the train up to Los Angeles several times to see my grandparents, my father thinking it would be more fun than driving, and there was always something exciting about walking into the depot and knowing you were going to board a train. It was different than the airport. It felt like stepping back in time and that the possibilities of where you might end up and what you might see were far more exciting.
Kitting parked the Escalade in the blacktop lot and stayed in the car while Anchor walked with Lauren and me into the depot. The long, narrow building was nearly empty, a few passengers spread out amongst the wooden benches, looking tired and worn out. Each of them glanced our way, then went back to being tired.
“I’m going to go see what I can find out about security cameras,” Anchor said. He headed for the ticket window.
“I don’t see her,” Lauren said.
“I didn’t think she’d be here.”
“Me, either. Just stating the obvious.”
We meandered through the benches, more to kill time than thinking that we were going to find anything. I stopped at the vending machine and bought a cup of coffee. Lauren shook her head no when I asked if she wanted one.
I blew on the surface of the coffee as we walked outside toward the tracks and boarding area. A few more people were scattered along the platform areas, sitting on roller bags, staring to the north, wondering where their ride was.
Lauren’s hand touched my elbow, then gripped it tightly. “Look.”
I followed her gaze up the tracks. Sitting on a bench, back away from the platform and up against the building, were the two girls we’d seen on the security footage from Oceanside. They were tucked close to one another, one of them holding a bag of chips that the other had her hand in.
“Stay right here,” I said. “I’ll go talk to them. If they try to run, I’ll send them this way.”
“I’ll get Anchor,” she said, ducking back into the depot.
I walked slowly toward the girls, not wanting them to be spooked by my approach before I was close enough to corral them. But if they noticed me, they didn’t show it, munching on the chips and chatting between themselves until I parked myself in front of them.
“Hi,” I said.
They both looked at me in the way only indifferent, arrogant teens can, with slight distaste and a mountain of condescension. Both had long black ringlets of hair and light brown skin. Heavy eye make-up in an attempt to make them appear older than they were. The one on the left might’ve been older, bright green eyes and a tiny diamond stud in her nose. The one on the right had hazel eyes and a tiny scar on her chin. They both had on black skinny jeans and gray hoodies, the only difference being that the one with the pierced nose had a faint purple design on the front of her sweatshirt. Both had on black canvas sneakers. Maybe sisters, maybe cousins.
They both stared for a moment, then went back to their chips.
“Where’s Netty?” I asked.
That got their attention.
Pierced Nose raised her chin at me. “You know Netty?”
“Yeah. Where is she?”
“How you know Netty?”
I shrugged. “Don’t remember. She here?”
The younger one squinted at me. “He don’t know Netty.”
“You two enjoy your ride down here from Oceanside?” I asked, looking at each of them.
They exchanged anxious glances.
“How’d you know that?” the younger one asked.
Pierced Nose grabbed her by the arm. “Shut your mouth, Luz.” Then she looked at me. “You a cop?”
“Nope,” I said. “Far worse.”
“Worse than a cop?” she said with a frown. “Doubt that.”
I squatted down like a catcher, looking at each of them carefully. “I’m going to give you one chance here. So listen carefully.” I nodded down toward the direction I’d come from. “See the dude down there?”
They both looked. Anchor was standing there with Lauren, staring back at us.
“That dude is most definitely not a cop,” I explained. “He’s like the anti-cop. And if I wave at him, he’ll come down here and take you both away to someplace where no one will ever find you. Take a good look at him. Because if you don’t give me the answers I want, he’ll be the last thing you ever see.”
The younger one visibly tensed up and the older one swung her eyes back to me. “Who the hell are you?”
“Just a guy with a couple questions,” I said. “Feel like answering?”
“We don’t have to do shit,” Pierced Nose said, giving me a sour look.
I shrugged and looked at the other one. “How about you? Feel like talking? Or you wanna go for a ride with my friend?”
She was still staring at Anchor, who was returning the stare with a dead face.
“Let’s go, Luz,” Pierced Nose said, starting to stand up.
I crowded her and she sat back down on the bench. “Asshole.”
“You have no idea,” I said, then tapped the other girl on the knee. “Hey. You.”
She whipped her head to me. No time to hide the fear in her eyes.
“What?” she said.
“Shut up, Luz,” Pierced Nose snapped. “You don’t have to say nothin’.”
“You shut up, Blanca,” Luz snapped back. “That white dude looks crazy.”
Anchor did, in fact, look a little crazy.
I focused on Luz. “You rode down here with Netty and another girl. Where are they?”
“Who are you?” Luz asked, but her tone was different from Blanca’s. Not defiant. More worried.
Which was good.
“My name’s Joe,” I said. “And I’m looking for the girl with Netty. All I want is to know where she is. Not looking to hurt you or your friend here or Netty. Just looking for the other girl.”
Blanca kicked out at me, her foot striking my knee, but I was ready. She came off the bench and I was already up. I caught her by the arm and shoved her roughly back down on the bench.
“Bad idea,” I said. “You get up again, I’m bringing my friend down here.”
Blanca’s defiance lost a little bit of strength and she looked away from me, her chest heaving.
I turned back to Luz. “The girl. Where is she?”
“She went with Netty,” Luz said.