Nickel City Crossfire by Gary Ross (popular romance novels .txt) 📗

I’ll do a chicken breast on the George Foreman or maybe pull a casserole out of the freezer.”

Draping my jacket over the back of the second visitor chair, I sat down and began to unwrap my sandwich. “How is she?”

“Pretty good, considering she was shot. She tires easily, so we talk a while, and then she drifts off. After half an hour or so she wakes up—or they wake her up for something—and we talk again.” He closed the magazine and massaged the back of his neck with his left hand. “Nice lady.”

“Yes. Any visitors?”

“Some people from her church. Two older women and the minister and his wife.”

I thought for a moment. “They come separately or together?”

“Separately. One woman stayed about fifteen minutes. The other was here half an hour before the Markhams came and left a few minutes after that.”

“What did you think of the Markhams?”

“I’ve met him here and there at public functions, but he didn’t remember me. He’s more or less the same man I saw then and see on the news now, practical and caring but given to making a show of prayer. It was my first time meeting his wife though. For the most part, she was quiet but much more observant than the average person.” He chuckled. “She’s pretty too. Very pretty. Trust me, she knows it.”

I considered his assessment. “She wasn’t that quiet when I interviewed them in his office last week.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “She was more concerned about the church being embarrassed by association with a drug user than about Keisha being found.”

Bobby nodded. “Gotta keep up appearances. You have any luck at the flower shop?”

Between bites of my sandwich and swallows of iced tea, I gave him an abbreviated account of my afternoon. I told him I had visited the Dorans—who would be joining us at Mira’s for Christmas dinner if she hadn’t yet told him. I said nothing of Spider Tolliver’s call or the GPS tracking device LJ had found and removed when he swept the underside of my Escape. Ike’s silver Impala had failed to show after his alarm was triggered, I explained, so LJ would try to unearth credit card usage for Keisha, Ike, or Fatimah. “I think something spooked them and they ran. Be nice to know what it was and where they are.”

“Must be staying somewhere.” Bobby flipped to another page in the magazine. “If they’re riding on plastic, LJ will find them. But what makes you so sure these other people aren’t good enough to track cyber footprints, like your friend Mr. Quick?”

The mention of Quick so soon after I’d heard from Spider made me hesitate before answering. Tolliver and his associates had come for me in October because I had run an IntelliChexx search on Lorenzo Quick, whose name had come up in my investigation into another murder. Whoever handled his IT got a search alert that gave them my IP address, which led them straight to me. “If Quick wanted Keisha, she’d have been dead days ago,” I said finally. “She’d have died from the overdose and been written off as a useless user.”

“Maybe they’re staying with family.”

“Fatimah’s an only child. I don’t know if her husband—”

Bobby lowered his magazine at my abrupt silence. “What?”

“Family isn’t always blood. Be right back.”

I stepped into the corridor and walked to a waiting room adjacent to the elevators. Gazing out the huge plate glass window at the still-new buildings of the Medical Corridor, I called Jen Spina’s private cell. It went straight to voice mail.

“Jen, Gideon Rimes. Apparently, Keisha was staying at Fatimah’s. They both showed up at the hospital last night but took off when I tried to get close. Now Keisha’s gone, along with Fatimah’s whole family. If they’re staying with you and Bianca—or you know where they are—please tell Keisha I have people looking after her parents. And I haven’t forgotten your offer. If you want to sit with Mrs. Simpkins for a few hours, just let me know.” I paused and took a breath. “Keisha knows by now I’m being straight with her but she hasn’t reached out yet. Please have her call the hospital and ask to be put through to her mother’s room. I’ll be here tonight myself.” I gave the room number and added what I hoped would be too vague to lead to my prosecution for B&E: “Tell Fatimah and Ike I just wanted to make sure nobody had got to them.” Then I clicked off and went back to the hospital room.

Mona was still asleep, and Bobby was shrugging into his coat. “All good?”

“I left a message with one of her friends.” I sat down again.

“About all you can do if you’re here. Something comes up and you need to call...”

“I know. I will.”

Squeezing my shoulder, Bobby left, and I opened the Vanity Fair.

The room phone trilled ten minutes later, just as I finished the first half of my sub. I got to the nightstand by the second ring, but the first had already startled Mona awake. She was shifting in bed, trying to angle herself to reach the phone.

“I got it, Mona,” I said, lifting the handset. “Mrs. Simpkins’ room.”

“Mr. Rimes?” Her voice was calmer than last night, steadier but still not resolute.

“Yes.”

“It’s Keisha. Can I talk to my mother?”

“She just woke up. I’ll give her the phone but first I need to tell you I know your mishap was unintentional. These people—” I stopped, mindful of Mona, now looking at me expectantly because she had heard her daughter’s voice. Uncertain what she knew, how much she could surmise, I half-turned away from her. “What I don’t know is why. Whatever it is, I’d like to help. If we can meet somewhere—”

“No, not yet.”

“I don’t know who they are, but I know what they are.” I let Keisha ponder that for a second or two. “For the sake of your family and friends, please trust me. I can—”

“Not until my mother’s