Maybe they could make this end.
“We’ll try it for a couple of days and hope a lead will break.”
“Sounds good,” Joe said. Once the plan was set, Ethan went out to the Jeep to retrieve the burner phone he kept in his glove box. He programmed in their numbers, then the men programmed the throwaway’s number into their own phones.
“All right. Pete’s volunteered to go first.” Ethan turned toward him. “I’ll see you there two hours from now. That’ll give me time to go by my office and pick up my old case files. You got a car you can borrow? Something that won’t stand out?”
“I should have thought of that,” Pete said. “I’ll trade with my girlfriend. She loves to drive the Chevy.”
Joe chuckled. “If she drives like my wife, you’ll be lucky to get it back in one piece.”
Pete groaned. “You had to say that.”
“You need to bring your weapons,” Ethan said, sobering everyone up. “You’re all licensed to carry. You never know what you might run into.”
They ran over a couple more points, wound up the discussion, and headed out the door. The sky had turned a dull pewter gray and a light rain had started to fall. The wind kicked up as the storm drifted in.
The men returned to their cars, and Ethan guided Val out to his Jeep. Things were moving forward. He damned well hoped they were moving in the right direction.
Chapter Thirty-Four
His first stop was the office. Hoover wanted Ethan to revisit his old case files. He’d be going stir-crazy without something to do anyway, so he figured it was a good idea.
And there was always a chance the detective was right. Maybe the sniper had nothing to do with the threatening notes or Delilah Larsen’s murder or Val or any of the other models. Maybe someone wanted revenge for something Ethan had done and that person had just been waiting for him to get back to Seattle.
Maybe the shooting and the murder were nothing but coincidence.
It was possible. Too bad Ethan didn’t believe in coincidence.
Turning another corner, he checked his rearview mirror for the dozenth time. The sky had grown even darker and the light rain had turned into a steady downpour that sloshed against the windshield wipers and puddled on the street.
Though it wasn’t likely the shooter had stayed in the area once the police had arrived, he took a long, circuitous route to his office to be sure he wasn’t being followed. He had no idea how the sniper had found them, but after Delilah’s murder, photos of Val’s home, surrounded by a boatload of media, had been all over the news. It wasn’t much of a secret that he had been staying with her.
Before they’d left her apartment, he had checked to be sure there was no GPS attached to the Jeep, nothing in Val’s purse or in their luggage. He had also removed the batteries from both their cell phones.
“I’ll be using the disposable,” Ethan told her. “Dirk’ll have a few at his place.”Along with a small arsenal of weapons, should they be needed.He didn’t say that to her. “He’ll have one there you can use.”
“But no one will be able to reach me,” Val grumbled. “What about my mom and dad? What about Meg?”
“You can call them when we get there, give them the throwaway number.”
She leaned back in her seat, released a slow breath. “I never realized how hard it was to hide from someone.”
“You got that right. Cameras everywhere. GPS tracking. It’s tough to stay off the grid.”
“I hate this.”
“I know, baby.” He didn’t say more. He didn’t like it either, but until he got another lead, there wasn’t much he could do.
Once they reached the office, he shoved through the door, guiding Val in front of him. Seated behind a desk across the open room, Luke shot to his feet.
“Jesus Christ, where the hell have you been? Valentine, are you okay? E, why didn’t you call me?”
“So I guess you heard about the shooting,” Ethan said mildly.
“Nick called. I’ve been phoning your cell every few minutes, but the calls go straight to voice mail.”
“Your brother’s been worried,” Ian said diplomatically as he and Sadie came down the stairs. “He figured he should be helping you fend off the bad guys.”
