Every Precious Thing

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

If Diana and the Paskota woman weren’t working together, then the only way The Hideaway’s former bartender could have been there was because she had followed the doctor’s car. So that meant she’d hidden her own vehicle somewhere in the woods between where Logan and Dev stood and the main road, the opposite direction in which she’d run. At some point, she would have to circle back.

“Come on,” Logan said.

He and Dev ran along the path that Dr. Paskota had used to bring them here. They made it almost all the way back to the dirt road before Logan pulled to a stop and knelt down. Even in the darkness, he could see the eight-inch strip of compacted pine needles that led off the path. Predictably, he found a second, identical strip a few feet away.

Tire tracks.

Silently, he pointed in the direction they headed. Dev nodded.

Careful not to make a sound, the two men followed the tracks. About a hundred feet from where they began, they found a Ford sedan with California license plates, and a tag that identified it as a rental car. Though there was no one sitting inside, Logan saw that the keys were in the ignition, the car ready to go the moment the owner returned.

Dev raised a finger to his ear and tapped twice. Logan listened. Footsteps, fifty yards away and heading in their direction.

The two men immediately pulled back into the trees, hiding behind two pines close to the car. It was a whole minute before Logan saw a shadow moving through the woods on the other side of the sedan. It was Diana, of course. He’d never doubted that. She moved slowly, taking her time with each step, and probably thinking she was doing a good job of masking any noise.

Upon reaching the car, she abandoned her caution, and raced around to the driver’s door. As her hand shot out and grabbed the handle, Logan silently moved in behind her, his gun in his hand.

Sensing his presence, she started to whip around, but he yanked the gun out of her hand before she could bring it even halfway up. She staggered backward and slammed against the car door, knocking it closed again. “Get away from me!”

Logan tossed her gun to Dev. “You drive. Ms. Stockley and I will sit in back.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her over to the rear door.

“Let me go!” She jerked back and forth, trying to break his grip, but succeeded in only getting him to squeeze tighter.

After Dev opened the door for them, Logan pushed Diana inside and jumped in right behind her. She immediately tried to get out the other door, but Logan was having none of it. He grabbed her again and pulled her back. “Don’t waste your energy. You’re not going anywhere.” To Dev, he said, “Child lock.”

“On it.”

Dev jogged around the car, opened the door next to Diana, and engaged the child lock so that the door couldn’t be opened from the inside. That done, he circled back around and got behind the wheel.

As soon as the car was moving, Logan released Diana. She pushed herself away from him, and tried the door despite the fact she’d seen Dev set the lock. When pulling on the handle did nothing, she yelled out in frustration and grabbed hold of the front passenger seat so she could climb over.

Logan clapped a hand on her shoulder and yanked her back, forcing her once more into a sitting position.

“Don’t try that again,” he ordered.

“I’m not going to sit here and let you kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you. I don’t even want to hurt you.”

“Bullshit. You’re just trying to trick me, get me to tell you where Sara is. Once I do, you’ll shoot me, won’t you? You don’t have to answer that. I know you will.”

She lunged for the front seat again. This time Logan shoved her back harder.

“You don’t get it,” he said. “I’m not here to hurt Sara or you or anyone. I’m here because of Alan. That’s all. He knows something’s wrong, and he wants to help.”

“I don’t know where you got your information. Sara’s not married. I don’t know who this Alan is. It’s all lies.”

It was easy to see that Diana had been going over everything as she’d made her way back to her car. This was probably what she wished she’d said before. It was delivered with practiced conviction.

“Don’t,” he said. “You’re making yourself sound stupid. You pretty much admitted you knew I was telling the truth.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The fear in her eyes was seemed to consumer her. Logan sensed it wasn’t so much for herself as for Sara, the woman she was trying to protect for some reason. He thought for a moment, then reached for his phone in his pocket. It wasn’t there.

Son of a bitch. Dr. Paskota had it.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked Diana.

She closed her lips tight and glared at him.

She hadn’t been carrying a bag in the woods, and he could tell there was nothing in the front pockets of her jeans. He rolled her on her side so he could see the back.

“Hey!” she said.

The rear pockets were empty, too.

He let go of her.

“Is there a purse or bag up there?” he asked Dev.

Dev glanced around. “Yeah. There’s something in the passenger footwell.”

He stopped the car, retrieved it, and tossed it back to Logan.

“That’s mine!” Diana shouted, reaching for the bag. “You have no right!”

Though he didn’t want to do it, Logan raised his gun. That seemed to sober her up. She retreated to her corner, her gaze burning holes in his head.

He opened the bag and felt around until he found not one cell phone, but two. The first he pulled out was a Blackberry. He activated the screen, made sure it was getting a signal, then reached in and pulled out the second phone.

This time Diana visibly tensed.

The phone was a bare-bones model-no Web access, no email, just calls and texts. The kind of phone with prepaid minutes you’d buy at a 7-Eleven or corner shop. A throwaway phone. Anonymous.

It was off, so he powered it up, opened the menu, and found the recent-calls list. There were only a handful of calls, but all were to the same number. He looked at Diana, and back at the phone.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t.”

Sara’s number?

That seemed pretty damn likely, especially given Diana’s reaction. He was so tempted to hit the connect button. The only thing holding him back was the very real chance that, if it was Sara, his voice would scare her off. What he needed was Diana on his side, and then Sara might listen to him.

He turned off the throwaway, switched to the Blackberry, and called one of the few numbers he knew by heart.

Three rings, then a groggy, “Hello?”

“Dad, it’s me,” Logan said.

“What? Is something wrong? Where are you?”

He could picture Harp flipping on a light and sitting up in bed.

“Everything’s okay. I just need-”

“Did you find her?” Harp asked.

“Not yet. I need Callie’s cell number.”

“Don’t you have it?”

Logan hesitated. “Not on me.”

“Hold on.” There was a pause before Harp said, “Can I check a number on here without hanging up on you?”

“Yeah, all you do is hit the menu button-”

The line went dead.

Logan called back.

“Who is this?” Harp asked, once they were reconnected.

“It’s me,” Logan said.

“This isn’t your number.”

“It’s the same one I just called you on.”

“It is?”

“Dad, focus.”

“What happened to your phone?”

“It’s…broken, okay?”

“This is your new number?”

“I’m just borrowing a phone from someone.”

“So I can still call you at your old number?”

“No. Don’t call it, not until I tell you it’s okay. Now, Dad, I really need Callie’s number.”

“Well, obviously I can’t get it without hanging up on you.”

“No. You can.” He talked his father through the procedure, this time getting Callie’s number without being disconnected.

“When do you think you’ll be back here?” Harp asked.

“I don’t know. Soon, probably. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“From this number?”

“I don’t know, Dad. From a number. Now go back to sleep.”

Once he got Harp off the line, he called Callie, but was sent to her voice mail after four rings.

“It’s Logan,” he said. “Call me back as soon as you get this at the number this came in on. Do not use my cell number.”

Less than a minute later, she called back. “Sorry. I didn’t recognize the caller ID or I would have picked up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Can you get Alan on the line right now?”

“You found her?”

“I’m getting close, but I need his help.”

“Doing what?”

“Conference him in, and you can hear, too.”

She was quiet for a moment, then said, “Okay.”

As he was put on hold, he glanced at Diana. She stared back at him, her face a mask of defiance. But it was only a mask. Underneath he sensed a growing uncertainty and confusion.

It took nearly a minute for Callie to come back on.

“Okay, I think we’re all here,” she said. “Alan?”

“I’m here,” Alan replied. “What’s going on? Is she all right?”

“I don’t know yet,” Logan said. “But I think I have someone here who does know. Unfortunately, she doesn’t trust me. She thinks I’m here to hurt Sara. I’m hoping you can help me convince her otherwise. I’m going to put you on speaker, all right?”

“Sure,” Callie said.

Just as Logan hit SPEAKER, Alan said, “Wait.” The rest was broadcast throughout the car. “Who are you with?”

“Her name is Diana Stockley,” Logan said. He looked at Diana. “I have Callie Johnson, the lawyer I mentioned, on the line and Alan Lindley, Sara’s husband.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said.

“Who are you?” Alan asked angrily.

“She’s a friend of Sara’s,” Logan explained. “She visited Sara in Riverside right before your trip to Tijuana.”

Diana gaped at Logan. “How did you-”

“Tessie,” he said.

“Tessie?” She looked both surprised and sad.

“She told me about following you. She thinks you were cheating on her.”

“I…I wasn’t…” she said, more to herself than to Logan.

“Hey, did you hear me?” Alan asked.

“I’m sorry, what?” Logan replied.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“No, it didn’t come through.”

“I said Sara doesn’t have any friends named Diana. I would have known.”

“Alan,” Callie broke in. “There’s obviously a lot of things about Sara none of us knew.”

Logan had been about to say something similar.

Silence.

“Did she help my wife leave?” Alan asked. “Did you help my wife abandon her daughter and me?”

“I don’t know who you are,” Diana said. “But this isn’t going to work. I’m not going to tell you where she is.”

“I don’t know who you are!” Alan shot back. “Sara’s my wife. She’s Emily’s mother. Who the hell are you?”

Diana shook her head, but said nothing.

This wasn’t going exactly the way Logan had planned. Alan was taking out his weeks of frustration on their only real lead.

“Everyone, just relax,” he said. “I have a feeling we’re all concerned about the same thing-Sara’s safety.”

Diana scoffed, while neither Alan nor Callie said anything.

“Alan, where do you live?” Logan asked.

“What? What do you mean?”

“What’s your address?”

“Why is that important?”

“Please.”

“I live in Riverside.”

“The street,” Logan asked, hoping the information would be the key.

A pause. “1354 Celeste Lane.”

As soon as the words came over the line, a series of stuttering breaths escaped Diana’s lips.