No Going Back

4

A flight took me to Gallup Municipal Airport, only a stone’s throw from the Best Western hotel where Jay and Nicole spent Monday night. Ever since I’d heard the Nat King Cole song, or more likely the rock ‘n’ roll version by Chuck Berry, I’d fancied taking a trip on the historic Route 66. I just hadn’t thought that it’d be under these circumstances. I decided to pick up the trail at the girls’ last known location. For all I knew they’d hooked up with some guys in town and were still in Gallup. Maybe they hadn’t phoned home because they were having the kind of fun you didn’t share with your parents.

I hired a car, a blocky, navy-blue GMC Yukon 4×4, and threw the bags I’d brought with me in the back seat, before heading for the Best Western. I considered renting a room but decided against it, and only stayed long enough to show photos of the girls to the desk staff. A helpful young guy remembered Jay and Nicole and brought their booking up on a computer. It showed that they’d stayed only one night, checked out at ten on Tuesday morning, and paid their bill in full. The guy said he’d chatted with them and that both girls had been excited about their impending trip into the Painted Desert later that day. I thanked the guy, tossed him a few dollars off the roll handed to me earlier by Jameson Walker, and asked him where there was a good place to eat. He directed me back along the highway to a diner making the most of its Route 66 association. There was a huge sign outside so Technicolor-vivid it reminded me of the graphics from an old Warner Brothers’ cartoon, but it appeared that burritos and tacos were the only items on the menu. I continued until I found another diner advertising eggs and ham and suchlike. A waiter led me to a table at the window, and I had a great view over the highway to a huge railroad depot where dozens of freight carriages were parked on the sidings. Red dust billowed on the breeze. Some of it had adhered to the glass, giving everything a pinkish hue. I ordered a special from the menu, plus a large coffee. It was approaching evening, but it would be hours before the sun went down over the desert, so I’d time for a few calls, for filling my stomach, and for making it over the border into Arizona before nightfall.

While I forked down scrambled eggs and rashers of bacon, I used my cell to call Rink.

Jared Rington’s more than a friend to me; he’s like a brother. Sometimes he even acts like he’s my mother. ‘Where the freakin’ hell are you, goddamnit?’ Then again, my mum, Anita, wouldn’t use language like that.

‘Gallup, New Mexico.’

‘What the hell are you doing there?’

‘I’m on that missing person case that came in, the Walker job. I told McTeer to let you know I’d pick it up.’

‘I didn’t go back to the office today.’

‘So it’s your fault you’re not up to speed.’

Rink was the owner of Rington Investigations, based in Tampa, but when I’d signed on it was as an invisible partner. Although I didn’t have to answer to him for my actions, there was rarely a thing that we kept from each other. We had both been in the same Special Forces unit, had fought side by side, saved each others’ lives on a number of occasions, so there was little that we didn’t know about each other. Rink knew how impulsive I was; he wasn’t that surprised that I’d jumped straight into a job. He just liked to be a mother hen; like I’d get myself in hot water if he wasn’t holding my hand. Trouble was, he was usually right.

‘The Walker job? I thought you were helping out with Maria Purefoy’s problem?’

I explained how I’d fixed that one on my way to the meeting at Panama City. ‘So it was one of those “for the love of” jobs?’

‘Rink, the Purefoys could scarcely put food on the table, let alone pay for my services. I told Maria it was on the house.’

‘Jesus! Tell me this one isn’t a pro bono case you’ve taken on, brother.’

‘I’ve already done my charity work for the month,’ I reassured him. ‘Walker’s paying top whack. Don’t worry, Rink, he’s rich enough to afford it.’

Unlike Maria Purefoy, Jameson Walker was incredibly wealthy. He owned a chain of steakhouses ranging all the way down the Eastern seaboard from Maine to North Carolina. He was rumoured to be edging billionaire status.

‘You don’t think this is about his money, Hunter? Kidnap for ransom?’

‘Nah, it’s too random. Why would kidnappers wait until his daughter was halfway across the States before lifting her? Plus, there’s been no contact, no demand for cash. Truth is, Rink, I’m not that concerned yet. Jay — that’s the name his daughter Joan goes by — has been planning this trip for over a year. She and her best friend, Nicole, don’t get out from under the eyes of their parents that often. I get the impression that Jameson’s the protective type and this is the first opportunity the girls have had to enjoy a little freedom.’

‘You’re talking about guys?’

It was an old chestnut of our trade. Half the missing people we searched for ended up being found in someone’s arms — or bed. But then there was my brother John. I’d actually ended up coming to the States in search of him, and we’d assumed something similar had happened. We couldn’t have been more wrong. John was on the lam after stealing property belonging to a gangster, pursued by gunmen. That was before he’d fallen into the sights of a demented serial killer and the real trouble started.

‘There doesn’t seem to have been anything funny going on here in Gallup. I spoke with a young guy at their hotel who told me they were heading off to Arizona and they were alone.’

‘When was that?’

‘Tuesday morning.’

‘A lot could’ve happened between then and now. How’d you know the guy hadn’t been in their room with them?’

‘From the forlorn look on his face when I flashed him their pictures,’ I laughed.

‘So what’s your plan, buddy?’

‘Something happened a couple hours away from here. I don’t think the girls were involved, but it won’t do any harm to talk with the local cops.’

‘What kinda somethin’?’

‘A gas station robbery where a few people were killed. It probably had nothing to do with them, but I want to check things out.’

‘And you couldn’t have done that from the office?’

‘I fancied a drive,’ I said.

‘It’s a good job I’ve got McTeer and Velasquez to pick up your load,’ Rink grumbled. ‘I’m taking a couple days out myself, brother.’

‘Going to visit the good lady vet?’

‘Yup. My boosters are due a top-up.’

‘Well, tell Rene hello from me, and enjoy yourself.’

‘How am I gonna do that with you charging around unchaperoned?’

‘Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy. And this thing with the girls… well, what exactly could go wrong?’

‘I wish you hadn’t asked that.’

‘Go, Rink. Get yourself up to Rene’s and have a good time, and don’t worry about me.’

‘Yeah, right.’

‘Stop being an old lady.’

I hung up while he was still swearing at me, and watched a waitress approaching with a fresh jug of coffee. I’d been trying to cut down on caffeine lately. Allegedly I drank far too much of the stuff. Maybe it was the caffeine buzz that turned me into a lit fuse. No, my impulsive nature went deeper than that. I could feel a bubbling in my guts that had nothing to do with stimulants, and everything to do with the thrill of the hunt. I held out my empty mug. ‘Top me up, please.’