“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go.”
“Ellis believes we have a tail again,” Anchor said. “We’re going to do a little maneuver here just to find out if he’s correct. Just so you know we aren’t lost or going the wrong way.”
Instinctively, I turned around to look out the back window. The parking lot was mostly empty.
“Car’s back on the street,” Kitting said, glancing in the rearview mirror and catching my eye. “Late model sedan. Gray. He’s actually pretty good. Think he was there for awhile before I saw him.”
Lauren sighed and shook her head, like she couldn’t believe all of this was still going on, like she just wanted to be done with it. I couldn’t blame her. We were sleep deprived and a thousand miles away from where we started.
But we were close. I had to keep reminding myself of that. We were closer than ever and we needed to get her back.
We were going to get her back.
Kitting got us out of the lot and we did a slow crawl through a four-block area in downtown. I didn’t see the car at first as we worked our way in a square through the gridded streets. When we took our third right, I caught a glance of the gray sedan, just turning right two blocks behind us.
“I see him,” I said.
Kitting nodded. “Yeah. He’s on us.”
“We’re going to let him tail for a bit,” Anchor said. “Then we’ll see what he wants.”
We headed east through downtown, past the high rises. A few pedestrians milled about but the sidewalks were mostly empty. We reached the edge of downtown and then turned south. We cut under the interstate and weaved our way through neighborhoods that seemed to fall apart as we drove. We were moving from civilization into gang territory and knowing Elizabeth might be somewhere in that area kept me shifting uncomfortably in my seat.
We stopped at a red light, the car idling quietly.
And then all hell broke loose.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Blue and red lights converged on us from all sides, seemingly pouring out of every single street that we could see. Two police cars blocked our path, another parked alongside of us and two more wedged in behind us, effectively boxing us in. Officers emptied out of the vehicles, weapons still holstered, their hands hovering at their hips. All eyes were trained on us.
“Well, this is interesting,” Anchor said, as if we’d just pulled up to an ice cream shop we didn’t know about.
One officer stepped forward and rapped on the driver’s window. Kitting pressed a button and dropped the window halfway.
“We’re going to need all of you to exit the vehicle,” the officer said.
Anchor leaned over. “Why’s that, sir?”
“Because I said so,” he growled. “Now.”
“Can you tell us why we were stopped?” Anchor asked.
“When you get out, sure,” the cop said, glancing at the backseat. “All of you.”
Anchor considered that for a moment. “Are we under arrest?”
“You need to get out of…”
“You are required to notify us if we are under arrest,” Anchor said sharply.
Lauren gripped my arm.
The officer stepped from the window for just a moment, then came back. “You are not under arrest. But you all need to exit the vehicle right now or…”
“Can you tell us why we’ve been stopped, Officer?” Anchor asked, smiling. “And I’m sure you understand that you’re required to answer that as well, if you’d like us to vacate the vehicle.”
The officer’s face tightened. He stepped away from the window again, then returned. “This vehicle has been stopped because it’s been reported to be involved with an active AMBER Alert in the area. Exit the vehicle. Now.” He stepped back from the window before Anchor could say anything else.
“Close the doors after you get out,” Anchor said. “Do not leave them open.”
“Why?” Lauren asked.
“Leaving them open is an invitation to search,” Anchor said. “Closing them means they have to ask to search.” He smiled. “And I will say no. Let’s go.”
I pushed the door open and was immediately greeted by another unsmiling officer. I didn’t say anything and quickly shut the door behind me. The cop directed me to the back of the vehicle.
By my count, I saw seven cars, plus the gray unmarked sedan that had been following us, and ten cops. Their lights were still on and it looked to me as if the side streets had been blocked off with traffic being redirected.
They separated us and I was directed toward the sidewalk, where I was patted down thoroughly. I saw Lauren getting the same treatment across the street, with Kitting and Anchor down the street about twenty-five yards on opposite sides of the road. I wasn’t worried about any of them. Lauren knew enough as a lawyer to give as little info as possible and it seemed that this absolutely wasn’t the first time Kitting and Anchor had been pulled over.
“You got I.D.?” a short, squat officer wearing mirrored shades and named Lasko asked me.
“Rear pocket, right side,” I said.
He stepped around me and pulled out my wallet. He unfolded it. “Joseph Tyler?”
I nodded.
“Any idea why you’ve been stopped?”
“I heard what the officer who approached the car said,” I responded. “That’s all I know.”
“Mind if we take a look in the vehicle?”
“Not mine. Can’t give you permission.”
“And who does it belong to?”
“Have to ask one of those two guys,” I said, nodding toward Kitting and Anchor.
The officer flicked his chin in that direction and two of the officers behind him trotted down that way.
He stared at me from behind the glasses. “So.”
I didn’t say anything.
“We have an active AMBER Alert for this area,” he said. “This vehicle was seen in the area where the missing child disappeared from. Know anything about that?”
“Who reported the vehicle?” I asked.
“I asked you about the alert, Mr. Tyler,” he said. “Please answer the question.”
“I know about the alert, yes.”
“Know anything about the missing child?”
“More than you.”
That caught him off guard and he stood a little straighter. “Excuse me?”
“The missing girl is my daughter,” I said. “She’s been gone for almost ten years. Elizabeth Tyler, currently going by Ellie Corzine. So I know more than you.”
Lasko started to say something, then closed his mouth.
“And this stop on us?” I said, shaking my head. “It’s total bullshit. Whoever called it in is trying to keep me from her. We’ve been on her trail for two days. So think carefully about what you do here, Officer. Because I’m not lying to you. You can verify my name and hers in about forty-five seconds with a call. But this is a bullshit stop. You’re being played.”
Lasko adjusted the sunglasses and looked away for a moment. I looked across the street. Lauren’s arms were folded across her chest and she was stone-facing the officer questioning her.
Lasko looked at my license again, stared at it for a long moment.
“Check it,” I said. “My name should be somewhere in the alert. I’m former Coronado P.D. Woman across the street is my ex-wife and our daughter’s mother. Other two are helping us look for her.” I paused. “Look it up.”
“Be right back,” Lasko said, then walked briskly to his car. He leaned in the window, pulled out his radio and turned away from me.
I knew what he was doing. He was calling in my I.D. He’d see that everything I’d just told him was true. Then he’d wonder just what the hell was going on.
I had a pretty good idea, but I wasn’t going to take the time to explain it to him.
I stood at the curb and waited. Watching the other conversations, I could see that the same confusion that I’d thrown at Lasko was making its way through the rest of the officers. Several walked down and joined Lasko at his vehicle, glancing at me when they got there.
I stood and waited.
After a few minutes on the radio and some words with the other officers, Lasko made his way back to me.
He held out my wallet. I took it and shoved it back in my pocket.
“I’m not sure what’s going on,” Lasko said. “But you check out.”