From what she could tell, the city of Lake Geneva didn’t offer cabin rentals as an option. Unless there were some located outside the city, far away from the downtown area.
“There’s a restaurant up ahead that appears to be open.” Grady frowned as he slowly drove through the picturesque town. “I’m surprised some of them are closed considering it’s a Friday.”
“It’s the off season,” she said with a shrug. “There isn’t much to do on a frozen lake.”
“Can we build another snowman?” Lucy asked.
“Maybe later.” She knew their plans for the rest of the day were up in the air. Especially since this stop had been a spur of the moment decision. “Looks like there’s a small parking lot over there.”
Grady pulled in and killed the engine. He pushed out of the SUV, then opened the back door so Lucy could get out.
There weren’t many cars in the lot, but she tensed when she noticed one was a black SUV. Lauren stared at it as they walked past, half expecting a gunman to pop out from the driver’s seat. When she caught a glimpse of a small stuffed animal lying in the back seat, she released her pent-up breath.
A family vehicle. Not the bad guys.
She gave herself a mental shake. It was time to stop imagining there were gunmen hiding around every corner. There was no possible way the black SUV could find them there.
The restaurant sported a nautical theme, which didn’t necessarily go along with the shocking red Valentine’s Day decorations. Grady asked for a booth, and they were led to a table with a nice view of the lake.
“Can I have chicken bites?” Lucy asked once they were settled on the bench seat across from Grady.
Her first instinct was to refuse. The last thing her daughter needed was more processed food. But then she remembered how scared Lucy had been during their unplanned plane escape, not to mention the previous shooting incidents. One more day of eating whatever she wanted wouldn’t hurt. Lauren nodded. “Yes, if that’s an option on the menu.”
“Looks like they have chicken strips, which is practically the same thing.” Grady was already scanning his menu. “We’ll put our order in first, then I’ll reach out to Agent Braun.”
Their server took their drink orders first. She and Grady went with coffee, while Lucy had another glass of chocolate milk. Once their drinks arrived, she put in a request for Lucy’s chicken strips, along with a grilled chicken wrap. Grady, of course, went for the double-decker cheeseburger.
Once they were alone, Grady reached for his phone. “I hope Braun answers this time,” he groused.
He made the call, then groaned when Braun’s voice mail kicked in. “Braun, it’s Grady and Lauren. Call us back as soon as possible.” He ended the call. “I don’t know what he’s doing.”
She sat back in the booth, trying to give the FBI agent the benefit of doubt. “Maybe he’s handling the interviews.”
Grady looked pointedly at his watch. “It’s noon. He’s had all morning to do them.”
She glanced at Lucy who was blowing bubbles into her chocolate milk. “You’re assuming he’s found them in the first place. They could be here driving around in a black SUV.”
“Maybe.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “We need answers.”
No argument there. She was about to take Lucy to the bathroom when his phone rang. Grady answered, putting the call on speaker. “Agent Braun?”
“Yeah, I got your message. Things have been happening fast around here.”
Lauren had to bite her lip to keep from snapping at him. He thought things were happening in Chicago? They’d jumped into a stolen crop-duster plane to escape!
“Fill us in,” Grady said.
“I just interviewed Eric Howington,” Braun said. She and Grady exchanged glances. There hadn’t been enough time for the black SUV to get from Madison to Chicago, which meant Howington wasn’t their guy. “He’s clear, has an ironclad alibi for the first abduction and for the time of the shooting of your penthouse apartment.”
“Okay, good to know we can cross him off our list,” Grady said. “What else?”
“I’ve left several messages for Karla Dalton, but she hasn’t returned my calls. You should know that Randy Morton, Bobby’s first cousin, is dead. He died of a drug overdose three months ago. We didn’t know about Bobby Morton’s half brother, Curtis Handover, so we dug into him. I discovered he’s been posting threats aimed at Nelson Derringer.”
Lauren straightened in her seat. “What kind of threats?”
“Threats that make it clear Nelson should watch his back when he’s released from prison. Which will happen on Monday morning.”
Monday? Lauren’s heart squeezed in her chest. What happened to two more months?
