Every Precious Thing

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Logan drew the short straw and ended up being the one who had to stretch out on the floor by the window. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep much at all, but the next thing he knew, sunlight was spilling through the window and he could hear the TV.

He sat up with a start.

Dev was sitting on the end of the bed closest to him, watching one of the morning news shows. Logan stretched, and looked over at the other bed. It was empty.

“Where is she?” he asked.

Without looking, Dev said, “Not here.”

Logan jumped to his feet. “Was she gone when you got up?”

“Yep.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“And you didn’t think to wake me?”

Dev looked over at him. “Wouldn’t have done any good, and I thought you could use a little more sleep.”

“What do you mean, ‘wouldn’t have done any good’? We need to look for her. We need to find her.”

He picked his pants off the floor, pulled them on, then snatched his shirt off the chair and headed for the bathroom.

“She left a note,” Dev said.

Logan stopped. “Where?”

Dev nodded at the empty bed. There was a piece of paper sitting on the cover half hidden by one of the pillows. Logan walked over and grabbed it.

I-40 West. Williams exit. Go north on State Route 64 for 30 miles. Not long after that you’ll see a faded white X painted on the edge of the asphalt. Pull to the side and wait. If I’m not there by 10:30 a.m., I’m not coming.

“Think she left as soon as we fell asleep,” Dev said.

Logan looked at her bed and could see his friend was right. Though he could tell she had lain there, it was otherwise undisturbed. If she had slept, then she was one of those people who never moved.

He suddenly looked toward the door. “My truck.”

Before he could take more than a single step, Dev held up a hand. “It’s still there. First thing I checked.”

Logan looked at the note again.

“I assume we’re going,” Dev said.

“Absolutely.”

Their first stop was at a mini-mart near the freeway, where they picked up a pay-by-the-minute phone similar to the one that had been in Diana’s bag.

“You drive,” Logan said to Dev as they left the store.

As soon as they were on the I-40, he punched in a Washington D.C. number on the cell.

“Forbus International. How may I direct your call?”

“Ruth Bobick, please.”

“One moment.”

He hadn’t thought he would need the help of his old friend. Ruth was a busy woman, even more so these days after her recent promotion at Forbus International, the defense contractor Logan had also worked for at one time. Everything he’d needed up to this point, Callie had been able to handle. But what he wanted now was something only Ruth could do.

When Logan had worked with his late brother-in-law and best friend Carl Stone as trainers for Forbus’s private security forces, Ruth had been their in-office contact. She had always been a friend, and though the company had placed the blame for Carl’s death on Logan, she had never believed it. After that incident, their careers went in decidedly different directions. Ruth climbed the corporate ladder at Forbus, while Logan returned to his hometown to work in his father’s garage. In her position as a vice president of a highly regarded defense contractor, she had access to information sources not available to most people. This had come in handy when Logan was trying to save Elyse Myat a few months earlier, and now could prove to be just as important to his search for Sara.

The line rang twice.

“Ruth Bobick’s office. How may I help you?” Ruth’s assistant asked. He sounded young and efficient, just the kind of person Ruth liked to have around.

“Tommy Shaw calling for Ruth,” Logan said.

Though it wasn’t public knowledge, Forbus was in the habit of recording company calls when they felt it necessary. There was no doubt in Logan’s mind that if they knew he was on the line, his call would fall into the record category. He was not in good standing with the company brass, with the exception of Ruth, and he wouldn’t be doing her any favors if people found out he was asking her for help. So he used a name he knew would catch her attention. Ruth had once admitted to a teenage obsession with the ’70s-era band Styx, and more specifically, the band’s guitar player, Tommy Shaw.

“Mrs. Bobick is on the other line at the moment. I could have her call you back.”

“No. I’ll hold.”

“She may be on for a while, so I think it might be-”

“Tell her I’m on the line,” Logan said, cutting him off.

A hesitation, then, “One moment.”

Hold music replaced the assistant’s voice. The wait was short.

“This is Ruth Bobick. Mr. Shaw?”

“Yes,” Logan said, not disguising his voice. “Thank you for taking my call.”

In the pause that followed, Logan knew she’d realized who he was. “Actually, Mr. Shaw, I will have to call you back.”

“I see. Well, as soon as possible would be appreciated. I’m not at my normal number.” He gave her the number of his temporary phone.

“Got it,” she said. “Thank you.”

She didn’t wait for him to reply before hanging up.

Eight minutes later, she called back. By the noise in the background, he knew she’d gone outside.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t use my office line,” she said.

“Sorry. I don’t have my phone at the moment, and the main number was the only one I knew from memory.”

She sighed. “I’m going to regret calling you back, aren’t I?”

He smiled. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but the help you gave me last time worked out pretty well for you.”

Ruth had been able to use her early knowledge of what Logan had uncovered during his rescue of Elyse to bolster her position at Forbus. The information was responsible for her promotion.

“I swear to God if you hold that over my head, I will never answer the phone again.”

“Yes, you will.”

“I’m not going to fool myself into thinking this is a social call. So why don’t you tell me what you want?”

“I need you to see if you can get locations on two cell phones.” From memory, he gave her the number to Diana’s Blackberry, and the only number from the recent-calls list on her disposable cell. “If you can tell me where they are in relation to the number I’m calling from, that would be great.”

“And why would I want to do this?” she asked.

“Because someone’s in trouble, and I’m trying to help them.”

“This is getting to be a habit. What happened to fixing cars?”

“Can you help?” he asked, ignoring her question.

She took a moment before responding. “Let me see what I can do.”

Logan was about to say good-bye, but he had another thought. “Can we make that three phones?”

“Sure, why not? What’s one more?” she said sarcastically. “What’s the number?”

“You have it already. It’s my cell.”

“I’m not running a lost and found service.”

“That’s not why I asked. I’d just like to know where the person who has it is.”

“Fine,” she said, then, “Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you making some sort of career change?”

“No.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Helping someone who asked.”