No One to Trust - Iris Johansen [77]
The wheel started again and the occupants of the top boat came into view.
Two teenage boys.
“Let’s go,” Galen said. “We’ll split up. You start at the shooting booth and I’ll scout the opposite direction. We’ll meet at the front entrance.”
“Right.” She was already moving, searching, listening for Barry’s voice in the crowd. She passed a catch-the-fish booth, a tent advertising hoochie-coochie dancers, a spinning-cup ride. Where was he, dammit?
It took only fifteen minutes to make her way back to the ticket booth at the front entrance.
“Nothing?” Galen asked.
She shook her head dejectedly. “Maybe we were wrong about this being the carnival. Or it could be that—”
“Jesus.” Galen’s hand closed on her arm. “That’s Judd’s truck pulling out of the parking lot.” Galen was running toward their car. “He must have seen us. He’s peeling out.”
Elena looked over her shoulder as she jumped into the passenger seat. She caught a fleeting glimpse of a black truck with two occupants. One man, one little boy.
Barry!
Then the truck was gone, traveling at high speed down the road.
“Catch him.” Her hands clenched into fists. “We’ve got to catch him.”
“I know.” Galen’s wheels screeched as he backed out of the parking space. “Fasten your seat belt.”
By the time they reached the road, Judd was almost out of sight.
Galen’s foot jammed on the accelerator and the car jumped forward.
Faster.
Gas stations, convenience stores.
Faster.
She couldn’t see the black truck any longer.
One mile.
Two miles.
Where was that damn truck?
“Where is he?” she whispered.
“We lost him. He must have turned off somewhere.” He turned around. “We’ll go back and go down some side streets.”
They spent the next hour crisscrossing the main road.
No black truck.
No Barry.
Galen finally pulled over to the side of the road. “He got away from us.”
“I know that.” Her disappointment was so sharp it was almost physical. “We were so close.”
“We’ll get there again.” Galen moved the car back into the flow of traffic. “What now?”
She tried to think. “Motels. They had to be staying at a motel in the general area. Let’s find a phone book and go check them.”
“A slim chance.”
“So was the carnival.”
“Good point. I’ll pull over at the first convenience store and we’ll go through the phone book.”
They called thirteen room clerks at various motels before they struck pay dirt. Ten minutes later they were standing in front of the check-in desk.
“That’s Mr. Donovan,” the woman said. “Real pleasant gentleman, and his son was a charmer.”
“Did you hear him call the boy by name?” Galen asked.
She wrinkled her forehead. “Larry, I think.”
“Barry?”
She smiled. “That’s it.”
“What room is he in?”
“Forty-two. But he checked out earlier this evening.”
“Could I see the room and look around?”
She lost some of her friendliness. “Why?”
“I’m hoping to find some clue to where he’s going next. I need to find him.” He gestured at Elena. “They’re in the middle of a very nasty divorce and he’s taken their son.”
The woman glanced at Elena. “I’m sorry. I could see you were upset.”
“Yes, I am. Could we see the room? We’ll be only a few minutes.”
“I’ll have to go along and stay while you’re there.”
“Fine.” Galen turned toward the door. “Let’s do it.”
The motel room was really a suite with a living room, bedroom, and kitchenette. The maids had obviously not cleaned up. There were newspapers on the coffee table and soda glasses on the sink.
And on the nightstand a piece of paper with a tiger and flowers scrawled in orange crayon. She picked up the paper and agony shot through her.
I saw lions and tigers.…
“Take it easy,” Galen said beside her. “There’s an envelope underneath it.” He picked it up and opened the envelope. “It has my name on it. It seems we were expected.” He scanned it and handed it to Elena. “No help.”
Galen,
Sorry we missed you. Good work, though.
Judd
“We can’t do anything more here,” Galen said gently. “Let’s go back to