The Stolen - Jason Pinter [91]
purse and stood up. "Good luck, guys." She spent an extra
moment looking at me, then she left.
Curt waited until the door had closed, then he said, "So
what's going on with you two?"
"Nothing," I said. "Absolutely nothing."
"You sound like you're as happy with that situation as
I am with my mortgage."
"Just don't know what to do. I broke up with her, but
not a day goes by I don't regret it. In my mind I can erase
that mistake, but expecting her to... I wouldn't expect
that."
"You think maybe part of the reason you're working
this story so hard is to be close to her?"
"I don't know."
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"That's not a no."
"No, it's not."
"Part of me don't feel right letting her do some of the
dirty work on this. I mean, look at you, man. Seems like
every few months you get beat up. You really want her that
close to you?"
"That's why I broke it off in the first place," I said. "I
took the decision out of her hands. But she's been with me
every step of the way on this. Relationship or not, she
wants to be here. And it's not my place to tell her not to."
"That's a selfish way to look at the world, especially if
she might be in danger."
"I'd kill myself if anything happened to her, Curt," I
said. "But she's a hell of a strong woman, and I know that
anything I can take, she can, too. Probably more so. She
works with kids every day, and she's seen some of the most
terrible cases of abuse you can imagine. She doesn't talk
about it much, because, well, who wants to bring that kind
of work home with her? But don't be fooled into thinking
she's in this for me, or for the adrenaline. This is a cause
for her. And I respect that."
"So if it's a cause for her, and it's about my job for me,
what's it about for you?"
I thought about that for a moment, then said, "The truth,
man. It's about the truth. That's my job."
"So since we're both on the job," Curt said, "how the
hell do we find the Reeds? They obviously jetted from
Huntley before smokey the pyromaniac got his hands on
the house. They're registered with Verizon, but the phone's
going right to voice mail. No luck tracking it down just yet.
There are no known family members for either Robert or
Elaine Reed, and we're checking their phone records for
friends and acquaintances."
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"They won't be at a friend's house," I said. "Benjamin
got them into the house on Huntley so they could keep
private. That place was like a fortress. You don't go
through all that trouble only to have Elaine spill the beans
to someone in her knitting group. You said they have a
minivan, right?"
"Yeah, a Windstar."
"Nobody buys a minivan for one kid. I'm getting more
and more sure that they've kidnapped another child.
Anyway, I'm betting they're staying at a motel somewhere. A place where nobody knows them, and nobody
knows where they are except for Benjamin and his crony."
"There's a lot of motels in this country, man. You can't
expect us to cover all of them."
"No, but if you're a parent with two bawling kids in a
minivan, do you really think you're driving ten, fifteen
hours for the same kind of motel you can get within a few
miles? My bet is they're still in the state. Say a four-hour
drive, make it an even two hundred and forty miles, and
that's your radius from Huntley Terrace. They'll stay away
from major cities and metropolitan areas."
"There's still a shitload of fleabag motels in that
range, Henry."
"Christ, Curt, you're a cop. Don't you guys do this all
the time?"
Curt smiled at me. "I'm on it. Go run some more of
your magic. I'll give you a ring if we get any more info on
the Reeds or other missing children."
"Thanks, Curt, appreciate it. You want to sock me in
the eye once, gain a little street cred among your fellow
boys in blue?"
"Tempting, but tell you what. Leave the building like I
broke you down into tears, we'll call it even. Deal?"
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"Deal."
I left the 19th Precinct with a sullen look on my face,
as if Curt Sheffield had just ripped