Jason sipped his third cup of coffee and checked his watch for the twentieth, or was it the fortieth?, time. Damn it, Vallon and de Varga should be here by now. Hell, they should have beaten him here.
If they were coming.
Around him the quiet porcelain clink and the voices of people getting off graveyard shifts were white noise in the Denny’s. You didn’t get the tourists at this time of day, nor the truckers in this location. It was more of a neighborhood restaurant than most Denny’s.
If they were coming. Or it had all been a plan to ditch him because he knew too much, had seen too much. His fist squeezed the coffee cup until it groaned in his hand. He set it down and sat back. Just what had he been part of? Was it really possible to change things in the world with your mind?
“Can I warm that up for you?” The middle-aged waitress with a thousand-watt smile held a pot up for him, to explain why she was here. She glanced around at the three other places at the table. “You still think they’re coming?”
“God only knows.”
She hefted the pot at him again, but he waved her off. His nerves already jangled enough.
As if in answer to her question, the cell phone chose that moment to buzz. He scooped it off the table from beside the gawd-awful cup of coffee and managed a smile at her as she turned away. He picked up the phone.
“Bryson.”
“Where the hell are you? I’ve been calling your place the past twenty minutes.” Clint Blacklock’s voice held the edge of excitement that always came when a case was about to blow wide open. Jason straightened and tried to pull himself away from the ruminations about change and possibilities.
“Sitting in a Denny’s drinking coffee.”
“And you’d do this, why?”
“Thought I might meet interesting people.”
Silence, and then, “Anyone in particular you’re hoping for, Slick?”
“Nah. Just fishing.”
“Never figured you for a Denny’s kinda guy.”
“And I never figured you for a partner who’d call me at this ungodly hour. Are you in the office?” He checked his watch. As he thought, barely coming to five a.m.
Blacklock was silent again. “Can we can the crap?”
Jason sighed. Blacklock was in the office and that meant things were breaking. “I will if you will.”
“You with the Drake woman?”
That made Jason sit up straighter. “Nooo. Why?”
“Because I just got a call back from my contact in Homeland Security. The AGS has had another death, and apparently Vallon Drake is linked to this one as well. Trouble is, when they went to pick her up, she’d bolted. They’re looking for our help to bring her in.”
Jason sat rigid in his chair. Had there been another incident? Had Vallon done what Homeland Security said? Hard to think that was the case, given what had happened tonight. But to dispute what Blacklock told him would be proof positive Jason had been where he shouldn’t be for the second time in as many days.
“Interesting. Any idea where she’s headed?” He had to find her. Something not kosher was going on here, and it obviously had something to do with Homeland Security. Which meant that, with Blacklock’s leanings toward that agency, Jason was pretty much working solo.
“Not really. Apparently they lost her heading north on I-5.”
So she had exactly no intention of meeting him. But that made no sense. She’d been pretty adamant about getting her cat, and that didn’t suggest she wasn’t going to show. Which meant de Varga was at the heart of this. Kidnap?
“So she bolted.” This was the dangerous part—for Vallon and for him. “I wonder if she had help. Someone must have tipped her off.”
“My sentiments exactly.” Silence over the phone. “Slick, you haven’t gone and done something you shouldn’t have, have you?”
Only everything in the world.
“What d’you think?” A beat. “Hold on a minute—don’t answer that—because I know I screwed up. But I didn’t help Vallon Drake disappear, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Nope. He was looking for her, too.
The sigh of relief was audible over the phone. “I’m sorry I had to ask, but, well—you get this look in your eyes when you talk about her.”
“That was before I got my head on straight.” He waved his hand at the waitress for the bill. “Look, I’ll be in there in a few. In the meantime, could you do some checking for me? Remember that guy I told you seemed to be following Vallon Drake? De Varga? Well what if he’s in on this? Could you do some digging? Also check whether any information has come in on that company he works for.”
“I’m on it, partner.”
Jason signed off and left a two-dollar tip for the waitress, then headed for the door, not looking forward to the squalling cat in his car. But at least he’d find Vallon. Even if it meant he also betrayed her.