After half an hour, he decided it was safe to split. All the way back to Olivia’s house, he cursed himself for trying this plan. But he’d been desperate. He wasn’t going to find Smith without information, and his ploy probably would have panned out, given enough time to work Pete over.
Too bad he hadn’t figured on an alternate surveillance system. Still, there was one important piece of information he’d ascertained. The rescue team had arrived quickly, which meant that Smith’s base of operation couldn’t be too far away.
So, what next? Use a compass to draw a circle on a map and check every house within the radius?
Well, maybe it wasn’t that bad. They weren’t looking for any of the new little houses around here, or anything in town, for that matter. Pete had said that Smith lived on a big estate on a river. There were a lot of them, but not an overwhelming amount.
“What are you thinking?” Olivia asked.
“About how to find Smith—and how to keep you safe.”
“He doesn’t know who I am.”
“Let’s hope not.” He gave her a quick glance. He hadn’t known her long, but he knew some important things about her. She was courageous and reckless, and he’d quickly come to care about her. He cleared his throat, “But just in case, maybe you should move out of the house until we resolve this.”
“No. Where would I go?”
“Where you’d be out of danger.”
“No,” she repeated. “Travis wants to help you find Smith, and he can’t stick around without me.”
Gabe had the feeling there was no way to make her understand just how dangerous a game this was. Smith had no compunctions about murdering anybody who could compromise him.
He sighed. “Okay, then you’re going to have me as a house guest, because I’m not going to leave you unguarded.”
She nodded. “That will give us more of a chance to brainstorm.”
* * *
Harold Goddard,alias Mr. Smith, looked at the sorry individual slumped in the chair on the other side of his desk.
Pete Roka sat with an ice-filled compress pressed to his nose.
“Tell me again, how did the detective get the drop on you?”
Pete shifted in his seat. “I don’t know exactly. The car started to, you know, rock.”
“No, I don’t know,” Harold said, punching out the words.
The man he was interrogating dragged in a breath and let it out. “It was weird, man. The car started rocking, like...” He shrugged. “Like somebody had thrown themselves against it.”
Harold felt his eyebrows rise. “Like somebody. But you saw no one.”
“No. Just the detective standing a few yards away, watching.”
He tried to bring the scene into focus. It sounded like the guy had known what was going to happen, and he was waiting.
“Then the door opened,” Roka said.
“You hadn’t locked the doors?”
“I did. I’m sure.” The words came out like a whine.
“So how did they open?”
Roka’s look was pleading. “I dunno. And then it was like somebody pulled me out.”
Harold kept his expression neutral as he ran over possibilities in his mind.
