“That’s the problem with public transportation,” Cara said, aware of her dampening armpits. “You never really know who’s riding with you, what’s going to happen, or how long it’s going to take to get there.”
“I’m headed to Oakland,” he said. “I’m happy to give you a ride to the bus station if you want.”
Cara couldn’t believe her luck. The Coast Sunrise train, which originated in Seattle, stopped in Oakland after Sacramento on its way to Los Angeles. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“No problem.” He smiled and stepped on the gas. “Do you like jazz?”
“Love it,” Cara said, a little more warmly than she’d intended, since she didn’t want to lead Jeffrey on.
But for the moment, her relief at her narrow escape was intoxicating.
FORTY-THREE
JORDAN
Q: How many lawyers does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: None. They’d rather keep their clients in the dark. #LawyerJokes
Jordan slid behind the wheel as he watched the MCC bus lumber off the shoulder and signal its turn into the Chukchansi Gold Resort and Casino. Wen climbed into the passenger seat, already working her phone. It sounded like she was talking to Ellett, her redheaded keyboard jockey, as she ordered someone to round up security camera video from downtown Oakhurst and use some ominous-sounding database to capture bus ticket purchases in Madera County over the last twelve hours.
Jordan called Beto, who answered with, “Just a sec,” and put him on hold.
He couldn’t decide what to think about the bus. Had he and Wen simply made two bad assumptions? Despite her earth-mother appearance, Rae Ann Salter was a cool customer. She hadn’t confirmed his question about where she’d dropped Campbell off, but she hadn’t denied it, either. Either she was simply trying not to perjure herself while protecting the fugitive—or she had craftily sent them in the wrong direction.
And either the lobby ID of Campbell was bad to begin with, or she had been there but was smart enough not to get on the bus.
Wherewasshe?
“Sorry,” said Beto, coming back on the line. “Little busy here.”
“You can pull our guys off Madera Intermodal,” Jordan told him. “We just swept the bus and she wasn’t on it.”
“Did you look underneath? Maybe she tied herself on with a belt.”
Jordan almost snorted. “Your jokes are so rare, I never see them coming.”
“Laughter is the best medicine.”
“Maybe I’ll have Amber immortalize that one in needlepoint.”
Beto chuckled.
“Iknowlibraries don’t release patron search records,” Wen was saying beside him. “But you can find the library’s IP addresses, right?”
In his ear, Beto asked, “So what’s next, boss?”
“You never call me boss unless you don’t have any ideas.”
“Well, I’m fresh out.”
“Me, too.”
Jordan and Wen ended their calls at the same time. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her poke the red button on her screen almost hard enough to crack the glass.
She turned, scowling. “Are you going to drive?”
“Tell me where.”
