Forbidden (Southern Comfort) by O'Neill, Clark (free ebook reader txt) 📗

The sink area also seemed in pretty much perfect condition. No watermarks from overzealous hand-washing, or toothpaste spit on the mirror.  Which didn’t exactly fit if she was a germophobe.

So why hadn’t she wanted to bathe?

The ripped end of the roll of toilet paper suggested that at least she had normal bodily functions, as the end would have been folded into a neat little triangle if it hadn’t been used.

Then Clay squatted down, pulled out the wastebasket for an inspection, and was somewhat surprised to see that she’d actually generated some trash.  One lone tissue lay crumpled on the bottom of the small bag.  He fished it out, opened it gently, trying to disturb it as little as possible.  It seemed stuck together with something resembling chewed bubblegum.  Or half-dried latex paint.  As he sorted through his mental files of what the hell this could possibly be, his phone jangled in his pocket.

And at the same moment, he heard muffled yelling from downstairs, followed quickly by the echo of footsteps.

Clutching the tissue, he prioritized the chaos, and chose phone-answering over dealing with whatever was happening downstairs.  Computer glitches could probably wait, but a phone call might be vitally important.

Spying Kathleen’s number on his caller ID, he hoped she was calling with good news. He pressed the phone to his ear as he went toward the door.  “What do you have for me, Kathleen?”

There was a rush of noise – phones ringing, people talking – and he figured she was calling from her desk.

“We have a positive shot of Max on a surveillance video,” she told him, words tumbling out in a rush “leaving the aquarium with an elderly woman.  She kept her face averted, and put on a wide brimmed hat as soon as they stepped outside, so ID is going to be sketchy.  But at least we have positive proof of abduction, and it’s enough to issue the Amber alert.”

“That’s great.”

“And another thing of interest, she had a bandage on her hand, which backs up your theory on the old lady at the Inn.”

Clay sighed.  It was both wonderful and terrible to be right.

“She certainly was cool about the burn this morning.  She just sat there and let Tate bring her more tea.”

“Maybe she didn’t want to call more attention to herself.”

Before Clay could respond, Maureen burst through the door, harried and out of breath.  “You need to come downstairs,” she gasped.  “Some kind of virus is eating the computer!”

CLAY stood by, totally helpless, and watched the information on the Inn’s computer disappear.

Apparently, someone had attached a virus to one of the files – make that the file, actually – which had activated when Kim finally opened it.

Whoever took Max was damn clever with computers.

A clever, computer savvy, non-bathing, burn tolerant, GHB-packing, large shoe-wearing, non-rose water-smelling granny.

Right.

No wonder it didn’t add up.  As he listened to Kim deal with the computer crisis, he opened up the tissue again and examined it.  He’d have to get it to a lab to say for sure, but he’d stake his life on the fact that he was looking at liquid skin. Liquid skin that had been partially melted by hot tea.

Little old lady, his ass.

He flipped open his phone and hit redial, knowing Kathleen needed to correct the erroneous info on the Amber alert.

Clay was very nearly certain Max had been abducted by a man.

And he was going to tear the bastard limb from limb.

Kathleen answered on the first ring, asking about the computer, but Clay quickly cut her off.  “The computer virus is the least of our problems.” Anger laced his words.  He’d been three feet away from Max’s abductor.  “I have some very strong reasons to suspect that our infamous little old lady is in reality a very clever man.”

“What? Damn, that is not good news.”

“Tell me about it.”  Clay watched the computer die, Kim giving up CPR on a string of curses.  And Maureen, pacing a hole in the Oriental rug, stopped and gaped at him in horror.  “We’re dealing with a cool, experienced offender.  And since there’s been no demand for ransom, you know what’s left.”

“Oh God.”

“If you have His ear, you might want to bend it.  But otherwise, give me everything you have.  I don’t think I need to tell you that time is the enemy.”

“Okay.  The parking garage came up empty because their surveillance camera apparently malfunctioned this morning, and the slacker who was working the gate forgot to report it.  In the better news department, there’s a bank across the street, and we have a very distant and grainy photo of the suspected get-away vehicle, which, after our imaging guru did his hocus pocus, appears to be a dark-colored pickup truck.  Maybe blue, maybe green – it doesn’t look to be totally one solid color.  Like it has some rusted parts, or maybe some spots of primer.  Unfortunately that’s the best we can do with black and white.”

“Do I dare hope that any part of the license plate might have been visible?”

“The guru’s still working on it.  But at least the truck itself is pretty distinct.”

“In what way?”  Kim and Maureen were both watching him now.  Apparently the words man and experienced offender had caught their attention.  Yes ladies, this situation was even shittier than they’d previously imagined.

“Well, it’s one of those old-fashioned Ford pickups.  You know the kind that you see at classic car shows after people’ve restored them?”

Something inside Clay clicked.  And his mind began reeling.  “Kathleen, tell your guru we need that license plate number now.”

JR caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.

He was in the process of changing the sheets because the girl had soiled them during the night, and it wouldn’t do to have his prize virgin delivered covered in her own vomit and urine.  Technically, he guessed he should be thankful that she hadn’t asphyxiated while she was drugged. But with Billy Wayne out of the picture it was simply a chance