Countdown - Iris Johansen [115]
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.” He turned away. “But you’ll be better prepared if you know what he’s up against. I’ll work on it.”
“Four eight two?”
He nodded. “I’m no good at nurturing and soothing, but give me an abstract problem and I’m in my element. I’ve written down exactly what you told me Jock said tonight, and I’ll try to find a match for his obsession with that number. It may not be easy. Four eight two could be a lock combination, a partial number on a license plate, a speed-dial on a telephone, an address, a lottery number, a code for a security system, a password to get into a comput—”
“I get your point,” Jane said. “And if you continue to go through the options, I’ll get more depressed than I am now. Just do it.”
He nodded. “I’ll take the easiest first and work down.” He paused and put his hand gently on her arm. “Go and get a cup of that coffee from Mario. You look like you need it.”
“Maybe I will.” His touch felt warm and comforting and she didn’t want to move away from it. She gave herself a moment before she straightened away from him. “And I’ll take one to MacDuff too. He’s not going to leave Jock. He’s hovering over him like a mother with a baby. It’s weird to see a man as strong as MacDuff act that maternal.”
“He may have thought he was acting for the best by throwing Jock on his own tonight, but there’s always an element of guilt in situations like this. I’ll get back to you as soon as I come up with a list of possibles.”
Wake up.”
Jane opened drowsy eyes to see Trevor kneeling beside her easy chair, his hand touching her cheek. “What . . .”
“Wake up.” He smiled. “I may have found something. No guarantees, but it’s worth a try.”
She straightened in the chair and shook her head to clear it of sleep. “What’s worth a try?”
“Four eight two. I fooled around with telephone speed-dials for a while and then went to the addresses. You said Jock didn’t start freaking out until you began driving down the stretch of road that bordered the two subdivisions. I accessed the street maps on the Internet. No four eighty-two in the golf community, but Mountain Streams subdivision has a four eighty-two.” He gave her the printout. “Four eighty-two Lilac Drive.”
Excitement surged through her, but she tried to be coolly reasonable. “It could be a coincidence.”
“Yes.”
To hell with being reasonable. She wasn’t going to rob herself of hope. “Could it be Reilly’s address?”
He shook his head. “According to the Net the present residents are Matthew Falgow, his wife, Nora, and daughter, Jenny. Falgow is a local union leader, with a reputation as clean as a whistle.” He handed her another sheet. “Here are their photos at the last union election they attended. Cute kid.”
She nodded absently as she gazed at the photos. An attractive couple in their forties with an adorable fair-haired little girl who looked to be four or five. The dossier on Falgow was as squeaky clean as Trevor had indicated and certainly contained no hint of a subversive taint. “No connection with Reilly . . .”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He sat back on his heels. “Remember everything Jock said tonight. Then approach it from a different direction.”
She met his gaze and a chill ran through her as she realized where he was going.
Stop being a coward. Face it. She’d known it wouldn’t be pretty. Everything about Reilly was corrupt and hideous.
She drew a deep breath and looked back down at the photo of Falgow.
Is he awake?” Jane asked MacDuff, her gaze on Jock. The boy’s eyes were closed but there was a tension about his muscles that showed he was anything but relaxed.
“He’s awake,” MacDuff said. “He won’t answer me when I speak to him, but he’s not catatonic and he knows I’m talking to him.”
“May I try?”
“Be my guest.”
“Will you leave us alone?”
MacDuff’s gaze narrowed on her face. “Trevor wouldn’t like that.”
“For God’s sake,