Chase

Twenty-Nine

Daggert’s fists clenched at his side as he watched his SUV disappear beyond a ridge of trees. Bailey and Crawford burst out the door of the house several seconds later.

“Where’s the car?” Bailey asked.

Daggert said nothing.

Crawford said, in a voice that sounded like he was trying to be helpful, “I think, when you got out, you might have left the key in it.”

Daggert, turning slowly and giving the two of them a murderous look, said, “Get the pickup.”

Bailey and Crawford glanced at each other, unsure which of them had been given the order, then both ran towards the truck.

“Just Bailey!” Daggert said.

Crawford stopped.

“How did you let him get out of the house?” Daggert asked.

“Huh?”

“He must have been in the house, snuck out, and now he’s taken our ride,” Daggert said, shaking his head. “I don’t know who’s more incompetent. You, or Bailey.”

“At least neither of us left the key in the car,” he said.

Daggert went to reach for the weapon he’d used on Flo, debating whether to use it on Crawford, but he was distracted by a shout from Bailey.

“There’s no key!” she said, holding open the door of the pickup.

Daggert scanned the cabins that dotted the lakeside. “There must be another car around somewhere. See what you can find,” he told Bailey and Crawford.

Crawford said, “Even if we get a car, we don’t know which way the kid went.”

Daggert again resisted the impulse to shoot him, deciding a phone call he had to make was more pressing. While he was speaking to someone back at The Institute, a rusted old van pulled up alongside him with Bailey behind the wheel.

“Some idiot left the keys in it,” she said through the rolled-down window.

Daggert, phone to ear, raised a finger in the air to silence her.

“I need you to lock in on our car,” Daggert said to someone at the other end. “No, I do not wish to explain why I don’t know where it is.”

Crawford opened the side door of the van, waiting for Daggert to finish.

“You have it?” he said. “Fine, now send me the coordinates. And if you breathe a word of this to Madam Director, I shall personally pull your heart out of your chest. Also, there’s a possibility we may need backup transportation out of this area if the police get wind of what’s been going on. There could be roadblocks. Maybe a chopper or — what? Yes, a boat would work. So long as it’s fast.”

Daggert listened for a few more seconds. “Yes, an hour would be about right. That’s good. And have you sent the coordinates? Fine.”

He took the phone away from his ear but did not return it to his jacket. He was waiting for something to show up on his screen, and when it did, he smiled.

“Interesting,” Daggert said, opening the van’s passenger door and getting inside. “The SUV is stopped. The boy hasn’t gone far at all.”

He pointed. “That way,” he told Bailey.