Every Precious Thing

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Erica woke still annoyed by the previous evening. She hated when things did not go as planned. She did everything she could to keep surprises out of her life. The work she did, the way she ran her business, even her personal decisions-they were all thought out and planned to avoid problems. Until everything returned to that norm, her frustration would continue to burn inside her.

She showered, dressed, and left, not even glancing in the direction of the room Clausen and Markle had been using. They’d be long gone by now, and hopefully reporting in with some helpful news soon.

Once she was behind the wheel of the gray sedan, she opened the specialized tracking app on her phone and touched the number tied to the GPS device she’d attached to the El Camino.

“So, Mr. Harper, did you make it back?” she said as she waited for the link to be established. “Or are you still wandering around the forest?”

A dot started glowing in the middle of an otherwise blank screen. After a few more seconds, a map appeared beneath it.

The El Camino was still in Flagstaff, but it was not in the same place it had been.

“You made it back,” she said, impressed.

She watched the dot for a moment, making sure it was stationary, then switched to her email and checked to see if she had received the other information she’d requested before she went to sleep.

There was a single message with three attachments.

Dr. Paskota,

The vehicle you provided the license number for is indeed registered to a male by the name of Logan Harper. Attached are the DMV sheet, tax info summary sheet, and military record. Please let me know if you wish further info on Mr. Harper. As of yet, I have no information on Mr. Martin, but will forward to you as soon as I do.

B.L.

Military history? That could explain a lot. She opened that file first.

Harper’s involvement with the military turned out to be more than just having served in the army. Once honorably discharged, he went to college then got a job with Forbus International, one of the giant US defense contractors. His job there was training private security forces-soldiers for hire. After an incident in Afghanistan that took the life of one of his colleagues, he’d been let go. Erica would have liked to know why, but that information was not provided.

She looked at the other two documents and noted that Harper lived on the central coast of California, and worked as a-

“That can’t be right,” she muttered.

But it didn’t appear to be a typo. Harper was an auto mechanic. She’d expected something in law enforcement, even private investigator, not some grease monkey who specialized in changing oil.

So why are you even here, Mr. Harper?

Whatever that reason was, the answer wasn’t in the information in front of her.

She brought the map back up and saw that Harper’s car was on the move. She watched the dot until it merged onto the interstate heading west.

“And where are we going this morning?”

Shifting into reverse, she pulled out of her parking spot and headed for the freeway.

Fifteen minutes after she hit the interstate, Clausen called.

“You’re going to find this interesting.”

“What’s that?” Erica asked.

“The guy who got beat up was just released from the hospital.”

“Were you able to talk to him?”

“Not yet. But that’s not the interesting part.”

Erica frowned. She didn’t like games. “Then what is?”

“One of the two men who picked him up is named Neal Harper.”

Her mind flashed onto Harper’s military history. His next of kin-wasn’t it a Neal Harper? Yes, it was.

“Did you hear me?” Clausen asked.

“Sorry. I did. Older? Younger?”

“Older, definitely. I’d say seventysomething.”

Logan Harper’s dad?

“So how would you like us to proceed?” Clausen asked.

Erica thought for a moment, then smiled, and told him exactly what she wanted them to do.