“No, no, this is great. I’ll alert SLOPD about Robbins and the girl. Good work.”
“Computer algorithms. All technology. I had nothing to do with it. The facial rec—”
“Dude. Dude. Not important. We can talk about that later.”
Hill hung up, called SLOPD and forwarded the traffic cam capture, gave them the location, and set the wheels in motion. He thought about calling the FBI’s Los Angeles Division office to request two agents, but figured they would be dispatched from the Santa Maria Resident Agency, which was a great deal closer. He phoned them directly.
Minh was returning to his desk when Hill jumped out of his seat, grabbing his FBI windbreaker in one motion. “We got a hit.”
“A hit? On Robbins?”
“Yeah, Timo just called me. Traffic cam, facial recognition. Positive ID. And we got a ping on Loren’s radio. Near Soledad. Grab your stuff. We’re going to San Luis Obispo.”
“Us? Aren’t they coming out of…that would be LA.”
“Santa Maria RA. But this is our case. And it’s Loren. I want to be there to find out what the hell’s going on, look her in the eyes.”
“Soledad’s about an hour and a half, two hours from SLO, depending on traffic. You really think that’s where Loren’s headed?”
“Yep,” Hill said as he started down the corridor toward the elevators. “I’d put money on it.”
74
“Mickey Keller, you’re under arrest for impeding a federal investigation. Obstruction of justice. And impersonating a police officer.”
He closed his eyes as she patted him down and extracted a suppressed handgun.
“What the hell’s this for?”
“Protection.”
“With a suppressor?”
“Quiet protection.”
“Mickey.” She shook her head. “Registered?”
“Negatory.”
Loren switched on the radio. There was chatter but nothing that interested her.
She tugged on the handcuffs to lead him back toward her car when a thought occurred to her. She stopped suddenly. “Was I right? About Amy being a loose end that needed to be eliminated?”
Keller shrugged. “Ask the Ellises about that. They’re the ones threatened in your scenario.”
“I’m just saying. A suppressed .22. Quiet protection or quiet aggression?”
“Key concept here is quiet. Don’t wanna get stuck in a police station answering questions.”
“And yet that’s exactly what you’ll be doing.”
“Curious, Loren. Who’s arresting me, an FBI agent or a concerned sister-in-law?”
A chirp came over the Bureau radio. “Suspect Amy Robbins located on traffic cam. Melissa Ellis in her company, does not appear to be in distress. Last seen getting into a taxi.”
Loren froze. “Shit.”
The dispatcher provided the address, then said, “Agents en route. Local PD being notified. Attempting to contact cab company to determine driver’s destination.”
Loren gave Keller another tug and they started moving quickly toward her car. She did not want to leave the radio on but did not see a choice. She had to know what was going down.
This was worse than bad. The Bureau would have dispatched agents from the Santa Maria Resident Agency, about thirty to forty minutes away.
But San Luis Obispo police would be pulling over Amy’s cab a lot faster than that—or snatching her when she got out.
And Loren had no way of warning her.
75
Amy and Melissa had finished eating their pizza when the driver’s phone rang.
He pulled the device off the holder to the left of his windshield, where his GPS was telling him to maintain his course for another mile and a half.
“Yeah, bro. Whassup?”
The man listened a moment, then said, “Sands…Yeah, in SLO.” He was quiet, then said, “Yeah, I got it. No, that’s fine. About three minutes… Nope.” His eyes found the rearview mirror, where Amy was looking. He moved his gaze back to the road. “Okay, I can do that.”
He hung up, then placed the handset onto its magnetic holder.
“Everything okay?” Amy asked as she repositioned Melissa’s mask.
He kept his focus on the road ahead. “Just my boss. He checks in on me coupla times a day. Annoying, but he’s the boss, ya know?”
Amy had no reason to suspect anything untoward, but the exchange, and the driver’s reaction, were a bit off. Her experience reading jurors’ body language gave her reason to become suspicious. And Loren had once told her that a little paranoia can be a good thing.
Well, she was now properly paranoid. Problem was, there was nothing she could do about it, short of getting out of the cab. They were almost at the motel, but she decided to follow her gut.
“Pull over.”
“Huh?” The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “We’re not there yet.”
“I know. This is good. Stop the car.”
“Are we here?” Melissa asked, trying to sit tall to see over the seats.
“Yeah. Couple of blocks away.”
He pulled to the right and stopped at the curb in front of La Cuesta Inn motel on one side of the street and the Apple Farm boutique hotel on the other. A gas station stood on the opposite corner.
Amy would try calling Loren from there. Unless she had stopped somewhere, she should have arrived in SLO by now.
“Twenty-two dollars.”
Amy dug into her purse, shielding all the cash and extracting two bills. “Sorry, I don’t have anything smaller.”
“How much you want back?”
“Keep five.”
The man pulled out his wallet and started counting off the money, but he kept glancing up, peering out the windows.
“You know what? Keep the change.”
“Wow, thanks. Need a receipt?”
“I’m good.” Amy sat forward in the seat and grabbed the door handle. In that instant, a police cruiser became visible, approaching at high speed. And its light bar was lit up.
76
Loren yanked on the handcuffs, pulling Keller along, as they neared her car. They had run farther than she thought during the foot pursuit.
She put Keller in the backseat and got in.
“Really?” He looked around and snorted. “This isn’t a BuCar,” he said. “You’re rogue. Protecting Amy. That’s why you’re wearing a wig and colored lenses.”
“Shut up, Mickey. You’re under arrest, in federal custody. That’s all you should be concerned about.”
Loren started the Ford, turned the light cube on, and screeched a U-turn on the two-lane road. She increased the gain on her radio and sped toward the Sands Motel.
“Suspect in a white taxi,” the dispatcher said. “License plate seven niner kilo tango zulu five two. Stopped at 2074 Monterey Street. Police cruiser approaching. FBI ETA twelve minutes.”
“Would be good if you just let me go,” Keller said.
“And why would I do that?”
“Tarzana.”
Loren did not respond—but she was all too familiar with the reference. It went back several years to her early days with the Bureau. Keller was still with the LAPD and they were working a case together. Something happened…or more like went wrong because of Loren. And Keller had her back, saving her an embarrassing—and potentially career altering—disclosure.
He was calling that chit due. And now Loren had a decision to make.
Or was it a threat? He would come clean and she would lose her job because she failed to divulge it to her squad supervisor—and even worse, because she filed a false report. She could be prosecuted.
As Loren sped down Grand, she reached out and switched off the light cube and pulled it into the car. She still did not want to be identified a
s law enforcement—because that would mean revealing herself and being placed at the scene.
However, if she had Keller in custody, she could always argue that he was the focus of her efforts and the reason for her trip to SLO. No one would buy that, of course. While she had breached procedure, they could not prove she deliberately went dark—or so she hoped.
However, OPR would look to make a lot more trouble for her. How much? At the moment, she did not even want to consider it.
She hung a left onto Monterey—where she saw a police cruiser approaching the white taxi. And in the backseat of the cab sat her sister-in-law.
Shit, Amy. Now what are we gonna do?
77
Amy froze. The police had somehow found them. She had her left hand on Melissa’s, her right on the doorknob.
But it would make no sense to run. Melissa would not understand—but would have the crap scared out of her. She did not want her to grow up thinking the police were bad.
“Honey, I have to be honest with you.”
Judging by the expression on her face, Melissa knew something was about to happen—and it was not going to be good.
Amy took both her hands in hers. “Your parents don’t know you’re here with me. I didn’t tell them. I didn’t tell Giselle. They’ve been looking for you. I did a bad thing.”
“But I was having fun.”
“I know. I was, too.” Well, except for the stress. And the mental anguish. “I’m sorry for lying to you. That was wrong. All of this was wrong.”
“Then why’d you take me?”
Amy looked up and the police car was getting close. She did not have much time.
“This is too hard to explain, but I think I’m your mother and I was just trying to do the right thing—”
“But how could you be my mommy? I have a mommy.”
“Like I said, it’s too hard to explain. When you get older you’ll understand.”
Amy realized she was making a confession in front of a witness—the cab driver, who was staring at her in the rearview mirror. But she did not care. She was never going to see her daughter again. She knew that now.
And there was so much to tell her.
Yet there was no time to say it. And how does she make a little girl who just turned five understand science, technology, and the nuances of profound loss and severe mental anguish?
“You’re probably not going to remember me when you get older. I don’t remember much before I was ten years old. A few scattered memories when I was six or seven.” She laughed through tears as she fought to keep her composure. “But I hope one day when I get out of prison I can find you and we can be friends.”
The two police officers were approaching the taxi with their handguns drawn, one on either side of the cab.
Melissa saw the men and grabbed Amy’s forearm, pulled her close. “I don’t want you to leave me!”
Amy’s eyes teared up and her voice broke as she spoke. “I know, honey. I don’t want to leave you either.”
“Who’s going to take me to the zoo to see the elephants and bats?”
Amy could no longer keep the tears contained and she started to weep. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby. I should never have done this to you.”
Melissa looked to her left at the officer, who was yelling something through the window. She squeezed Amy’s arm harder.
Amy forced a smile. “Giselle will take you to the zoo. I’m sure if you ask her she’ll make it happen.” She looked at the cop outside her window, then at Melissa. Tears were rolling down both their cheeks.
“C’mon, sweetie. It’s time.”
78
Loren pulled to the curb half a block away. Frozen.
She slammed an open hand against the steering wheel. “Shit. Shit. Shit!”
“You’ve gotta help her,” Keller said. “She doesn’t deserve this.”
“What am I supposed to do? Bust in there with guns blazing?”
“That’d be suicide by cop.”
“So what am I supposed to do? She’s seconds away from being taken into custody.”
“Obviously, you have to get her out of custody.”
Loren laughed sardonically. “How am I going to do that?”
“You’re not going to do that. I will.”
“And why would you do that?”
“I’ve always liked you, Loren. Respected you. And yeah, although this case didn’t start out this way, looks like I ended up working for the bad guys. But after I found them the first time, when I could’ve grabbed Melissa and left…I found out about all the shit Amy’s been through. The car accident, her family…the arson at the clinic.”
Loren watched as one of the cops gestured at the window. He wanted Amy to open the door. “What do you have in mind?”
“First, remove these.” He twisted in the backseat to reveal the handcuffs.
Loren snorted.
Keller groaned. “Dammit, Loren. We don’t have a lot of time here.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“Gimme a minute. I’m working on it.”
Loren pulled out her handcuff key. “We don’t have a minute.”
79
Loren figured they actually had about seven minutes before the agents from Santa Maria arrived. But it could be five. Or nine, depending on traffic, lights, and a number of other unrelated issues. She had to work fast without appearing rushed or stressed.
She was both.
Loren put the light cube back on the roof, then headed for the SLO police officer who was taking Amy into custody. The other was talking with Melissa. With Keller behind her, looking official enough in his dress shirt and disheveled sport coat, she held up her creds, her fingers partially covering the name—the badge glinting in the late afternoon sun.
Keller had reasoned that with a federal warrant, the local cops did not want the jurisdiction. Their role was simply to assist the Bureau with taking her into custody. Arresting her would entail paperwork and court appearances on a case to which SLOPD had little connection. They had no need to mirandize or question Amy.
There was, however, one potential flaw in Keller’s plan: depending on the timing of how things unfolded, the Santa Maria agents would contact SLOPD. If Hill or Minh had relayed their suspicions of what Loren was doing, along with her physical description—and if dispatch had time to relay that information to the officers—despite the disguise, the cops might suspect this was Loren. And that would not end well for her.
The only good thing is that they would know immediately if the officers had already been briefed.
“Maura Rader, FBI. This is my partner, Michael Collins. Thanks for covering for us. Got here from Santa Maria as soon as we could.”
She avoided eye contact with Amy but felt her sister-in-law’s gaze boring into her.
“Ray Richards,” the officer said with a nod. “Not a problem.”
“Appreciate you having our backs,” Loren said. “Tough one to find. Thank goodness for facial rec technology.” She forged ahead, relieved—for the moment—that Richards and his partner had not been alerted. Of course, a crackle of the radio could change that.
She quickly handed Amy off to Keller so that she would be the one to deal with Melissa. Since Melissa had seen Keller in a very stressful situation, it was hard to judge how she would react—freak out, not remember him, or register fear but not know why. For that matter, Amy probably had the same initial response—but she might recall that Loren told her she used to work with him.
The officer brought Melissa around the back of the taxi and Loren met her there, doing her best to use her body to block the girl’s view of Keller.
“Hey,” Loren said, “thanks again.”
“You got it.” Richards turned and headed back with his partner to their cruiser.
“Let’s get the he
ck out of here,” Loren said.
They led Amy and Melissa to Loren’s Ford, now a dozen feet away.
“What’s going on?” Amy asked.
Loren opened the rear door. “Everything’s fine, but we don’t have much time.”
Amy and Melissa got in. Amy found Melissa’s buckle and shoved it home with a click.
“Where are we going?” Melissa asked. “Why did the policemen leave?”
“Good questions,” Amy said. “These are policemen, too.”
Loren started the engine and turned to give Melissa a wink and then pulled out and hung a right onto Garfield Street.
“We’re going back to where you left your car,” Loren said. “It’s only a half-mile or so away.”
Amy leaned forward in the seat. “Something tells me you’re not here as an agent.”
“If I was, you’d be on your way to the county jail.”
As Loren approach Keller’s Lincoln, she elbowed him. “Get in and be ready to go. I’m gonna wipe this thing down.”
“The adventure continues,” Keller said. “Follow me, ladies.”
“C’mon,” Amy said, unbuckling Melissa. She gave Keller a wary look as they got out of the Ford.
Loren found a rag on the floor and dragged it across the steering wheel, the door, the dash, the mirror…anything they might have touched. She then got into the Lincoln’s front passenger seat.
Keller hung a U-turn and glanced at Loren. “Now what?”
“Nice and slow,” she said. “Obey all traffic laws. We’ve got another hour before it’s dark. If we can make it to nightfall, we stand a better chance of not being identified.”
“And then what?”
“We’re headed to Soledad. I’ve got my Bureau car there. I’ll check in and then head back to the office.”
“And me?” Amy asked.
Yes. What about you?
“And Melissa?”
“One thing at a time,” Loren said. “I’ll figure it out on the way to Soledad.”
The Lost Girl (A Mickey Keller Thriller Book 1) Page 26
