The Stolen - Jason Pinter [94]
long-term memory."
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Jason Pinter
"That would explain why Michelle and Dan Linwood
had no recollection of their years missing."
"Right," I said. "But whoever took Dan and Michelle,
and now this Twomey girl, knew about their conditions.
And they were prepared for it. They didn't want to kill
these children, they just needed to get them away from
their families for a period of time."
"Why?" Curt asked.
"I don't know yet," I said. "But I'm sure the Reeds can
answer that question for us."
"Well, that was my next piece of information. You owe
me a steak dinner after all this, Henry."
"Come on, cough it up."
"You're lucky it's a slow day. I had a dozen cops calling
every hotel and motel within a two-hundred-and-fiftymile radius of that house on Huntley Terrace. We got an
affirmative for a Mr. Robert Reed at a Sheraton in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. About two hundred miles from
Hobbs County."
"Holy shit, Curt, you're a godsend." I checked my
watch. It was six o'clock. With any luck I could be in Harrisburg by nine. "Listen, I need to call Amanda. I'm
driving up there right now."
"Like hell you are," Curt said. "You have no idea what's
up there. Hell, that's not even my jurisdiction."
"Lucky for me I don't have to worry about jurisdiction,"
I said. "News is interstate. Sorry about that, bro."
"You asshole," Curt said. "All right, screw it. I'm
coming with you. You got a car, right?"
"Sure do."
"Then count me in. And I call shotgun."
"Bitch, please. You think there's any chance in hell
you're riding shotgun over the girl I'm still in love with?"
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265
Curt laughed. "No, guess not, but at least you finally
admitted it."
"What do you want, a cookie? Meet me here in half an
hour." I hung up. Called Amanda. Set the meeting time.
Wondered if somehow Robert and Elaine Reed expected
some company.
34
"Hello, miss, are you still there?"
"Yes, Mr. Benjamin, I'm processing your information
as we speak."
"Thanks a lot, dear. And just to be sure, you got that the
car was loaned to a Mr. and Mrs. Robert Reed?"
"Yes, sir, I heard you the first three times. Now, can you
give me Mr. Reed's date of birth and social security number?"
Raymond Benjamin repeated both numbers to the
woman on the other line. He was standing at a pay phone
at Eighty-First and Columbus in New York City. Vince was
Uptown. He'd called frantically ten minutes ago, saying
Parker, the girl and some black guy had gotten into the
same car they'd been driving the other night and sped
away. Vince said they looked like they were in a hurry. And
that made Ray Benjamin nervous. He had a feeling
somehow Parker had found the Reeds. And if he had,
Benjamin would be in a world of trouble.
No, there was still time. But it meant Ray had to get
creative.
The Ford Windstar had been bought in his name. He'd
never used that stupid Pioneer system, since the last time
he trusted a computer for direction he ended up some- The Stolen
267
where with cows and silos. Not exactly what he was
looking for.
The one thing he did have to be thankful for was reading
the damn machine's instruction book. Just in case. He remembered reading that, in case of an emergency, you
could call a Pioneer technician and receive help in either
starting or locating your car.
When he signed the papers, he'd made sure to authorize Robert and Elaine Reed, as well. They'd be the ones
driving it, and he didn't need them to be pulled over and
have to explain their relationship. Thankfully he knew
everything about Robert and Elaine Reed, from social
security numbers to their son Patrick's birthday.
"Mr. Benjamin, how did you say you lost the car
again?"
"Lost it?" Ray said. "Actually, we think our son took it
out for a spin last night, got drunk and got a ride home
from a friend. When he sobered up he couldn't remember
where he left it. I'd really rather not get the police involved
unless we have to. All I want is my car back."
There was a moment, and then Raymond heard the
woman say, "Mr. Benjamin, according to our tracking