Smoke and Mirrors

49

Paulus Styer sat in the van in the parking lot of the Blue amp; White and watched Massey, Barnett, and the unidentified woman wrapped up in conversation. He could safely go in. Winter was the only one in the group who had ever seen or spoken to him and after the work he’d had done on his features, the disguise he wore, and the stolen accented voice, Winter couldn’t possibly recognize him. But Massey was remarkably intuitive, and it was smart not to give him anything until the time was right. While he would not recognize Styer, he might remember seeing him in the disguise later. He couldn’t afford to lose a vital identity at this point. And they would be meeting face-to-face before long.

Styer had become familiar with Dr. Barnett when he was setting up the game, along with the old coot, Woody, who was often in his company. Because William was the sheriff’s father, and might prove useful to the situation, Styer had spoken with them that morning at breakfast. In the guise of a visitor considering a move to the area, Styer asked the men question after question, even joining their table at the doctor’s invitation. Dr. Barnett had been friendly, his companion less so.

Tonight, he had not been able to hear their conversation, but it shouldn’t matter since they were following a trail of his design.

Styer looked across the highway at a Yukon that had parked in a lot facing the restaurant shortly after the trio arrived. The occupants hadn’t gotten out, and smoke trailing from the tailpipe was the only indication that it was inhabited. He wondered why anybody would be following Massey or the sheriff, unless it was someone from the casino. He considered the thought, that the woman with them might have a protective detail, then realized with a jolt that she matched the description he had of Alexa Keen, Massey’s FBI pal, an abduction specialist. So she was involved now, which meant they knew about Cynthia. Good luck, bitch.

He started the SUV and backed out slowly. He drove a hundred yards and parked in a hardware store’s lot, waiting to see where the Yukon went when the dinner party split up.