Dead Even - Mariah Stewart [57]
“They checked the train and bus stations?”
“Carson said they showed his photo around. One of the clerks said he could have been in one day last week, then again, maybe not. There were no credit card sales in his name. Not so surprising since it’s unlikely that Archer has a credit card.”
“So if he bought a ticket, he paid cash for it.” Will digested this. “And since we figure he was in Ohio three days ago, it looks like he may have gone to ground somewhere. He has to be staying someplace, he has to be eating. Where’s the money coming from?”
“Good question.”
“Before I forget, I just pulled the old file on the Jenny Green case. The taped interview with Curtis Channing is MIA. As so often happens around here.”
“Damn. It could be anyplace. Could have fallen out in the file drawer, could have been left on someone’s desk, could have gone out in the trash accidently in a pizza box with the remains of someone’s lunch, for all we know.” Miranda bit the inside of her lip. “Well, so much for going to the source, though frankly, I don’t know that it would have helped us all that much in the long run. It was a good idea, but I don’t know that there was anything on it that would have broken the case.”
“Am I interrupting anything?” Anne Marie stuck her head through the cubicle’s opening.
“No, not at all.” Miranda waved her in. “Come in and join us.”
“Well, actually, I’m a little short of time this afternoon. I have a lecture to prepare for tomorrow. “ Annie touched Will’s arm. “So. Ready for lunch?”
“I was just waiting for you.” He straightened up and nodded to Miranda. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Sure.” Her eyes flickered from one to the other. “See you later. Bye, Annie.”
“Bye,” Annie called from the hall.
Well. Miranda twirled a pen around slowly. What was all that about?
She continued to twirl the pen between her first two fingers for several moments. Then she stood up, went to the window, and looked out at the parking lot. Annie and Will were almost to his car. They walked close together, close enough that their shoulders touched every few steps. A small cold spot in her chest began to spread little by little.
I thought that Annie and Evan . . .
But Annie and Will? She sat back down and swiveled her chair from side to side slowly, wondering when that had happened.
Maybe all those times I thought he was playing it cool . . . maybe he just wasn’t interested.
That gave her pause. Well, he did say he wanted to be friends, didn’t he? When a man really cares about a woman, he doesn’t go all buddy-buddy on her, does he?
She sat so still, she could almost hear the beating of her own heart.
You’re jealous, a tiny voice inside accused, and she turned the thought over and over in her mind.
The admission surprised her.
Why, yes, I suppose I am. Shit . . .
Unexpectedly, John Mancini’s voice shot through the intercom, jarring her out of her reverie.
“Miranda, you still in there?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Stop in my office when you get a minute, if you would.”
“Sure. I’ll just be a minute.”
“Take your time.”
Miranda stood and gathered the notes she wanted to take home with her, as well as copies of the letters she’d brought back from Landry’s. She’d been looking forward to discussing the Unger and Landry cases with John, so she was pleased to have an opportunity to do so. She’d have preferred to have had Will along, but as he was otherwise engaged, she’d go it alone. On her way to John’s office, she made copies of the letters.
Ten minutes later she was sitting in John’s office, her chair pulled up close to his desk, her elbow leaning on the right corner. John sat back in his well-worn leather chair, one eye on his computer screen, his printer spitting out a stack of documents, the phone up to his ear.
“Okay. Thanks. Keep trying.” He hung up, his expression unreadable. To Miranda’s eye, his coloring appeared a shade or two paler than normal.
“So. What’s the latest with your three amigos?” he asked.
“Lowell is missing. We’re thinking he’s on the run after having killed Unger in Ohio.” Miranda