J. Jance - Hand of Evil

Crystal uncovered her eyes, but she didn’t move. “What?” she asked.

“I have errands to run,” Ali told her. “My dad’s here. He’s your babysitter for the moment, and he’s going to watch you like a hawk. If you know what’s good for you, by the time I get back, you’ll have spilled your guts to Detective Farris. Otherwise I’ll tell him you’ve been withholding information in a homicide investigation. I believe that qualifies as a felony, by the way.”

With that Ali turned and headed toward the door with the phone still vibrating in her pocket and with her father padding along after her.

“Aren’t you being a little tough on her?” Bob Larson asked.

“Not nearly tough enough,” Ali replied. “And I’m serious. Keep an eye on her. She’s already run off once today, and she’ll do it again if you give her half a chance.”

“But where are you going?” Bob wanted to know.

“Out,” Ali said. “There’s something I need to do.”

“When will you be back?”

“When I can.” Realizing that she, too, was sounding like a rebellious teenager, Ali hurried outside and extracted Crystal’s vibrating telephone.

“RUOK?” CU wanted to know. “IWSN”

Ali’s stomach tightened into a knot. IWSN was a parental red flag for I want sex now.

You turd, she thought. “ME2,” Ali wrote.

“WAW” That translated into where and when?

Headed for her car in the garage, Ali scrambled for an answer. She needed a place with enough vehicle traffic that her Cayenne would blend in. She also needed a spot where, conceivably, Crystal could arrive on foot.

“CFEE SHP ON THOMAS,” Ali wrote.

“CUT” That would be IM-speak for see you there.

And I will see you there, you worthless jerk, Ali thought grimly. I just won’t be the thirteen-year-old you’re expecting.

It took less than three minutes for Ali to exit the parking garage and make it to the parking lot of the dingy coffee shop across from the hospital. She pulled into a space next to a uniform store and waited. Minutes later, and even though she was expecting it-waiting for it-she was shocked when a white Ford Explorer nosed slowly through the parking lot without stopping.

Suddenly meeting up with CU was no longer a remote possibility. It was all too real. What would she say to Curt? Apprehensive about the coming confrontation, a combination of fear and rage swept through her. Ali’s heart sped up. Her hands began to cramp.

A few minutes later, the Explorer was back. Again it didn’t stop, but the second time through the lot, Ali managed to jot down the license number. The third time it pulled into a space directly in front of the restaurant and stayed there for several minutes with the engine idling. No one got in or out, and the tint-darkened windows made it impossible for Ali to see inside. With her palms wet with sweat, Ali gripped the steering wheel. She had managed to lure CU out into the open, but she had no idea what his next move would be or hers, either.

With her full attention focused on the Explorer, Ali jumped involuntarily when Crystal’s phone sprang to life and buzzed again.

“HERE,” CU wrote. “WAU?” Where are you?

“TRYING TGTHOOH,” Ali added. Trying to get the hell out of here.

“TRY HARDER,” CU wrote back. “TYPO.” Take your panties off.

The idea that he was trying to lure someone as young as Crystal out of the hospital for quickie sex made Ali furious. Stymied by the tinted windows, Ali was almost to the point of exiting the Cayenne to see if she could get a better look inside the Explorer. That’s when her own phone rang. She had to put Crystal’s phone down before she could answer.

“Ali?” a woman said. “Arabella Ashcroft here. Have you read it yet?”

“Read what?” Ali asked.

“The diary,” Arabella answered impatiently.

Guiltily Ali realized that the mostly unread diary was still where she had left it the night before-in her purse.

“No,” Ali admitted. “I’ve been caught up in a crisis. I haven’t had a chance.”

“That’s probably just as well,” Arabella replied. “Things have changed on my end, too. I don’t need you to read it after all. If you’d be so kind as to just drop it off here when you have a chance.”

Crystal’s phone was buzzed again. “CNT W8 ALL DAY. MYB.” Move your butt. Clearly CU was running out of patience.

“I’ll have to get back to you on this,” Ali said to Arabella. “I’m in Phoenix right now and busy.”

“Certainly,” Arabella said. “At your convenience. There’s no rush.”

“PLS,” Ali wrote. Please. But by then the Explorer was already backing out of the parking place. As it eased south on Third, Ali made a split-second decision. She put the Cayenne in gear and followed. Traffic was a mess. It was all she could do to keep the Explorer in view while at the same time trying to remain unobtrusive. There was sweat on her face now, slipping down her forehead and dripping into her eyes; soaking the back of her shirt.

Despite CU’s apparent impatience with Crystal-or at least with the person he thought was Crystal-the man didn’t seem to be in that big of a rush to leave the neighborhood. Ali’s frantic reality slipped into a strange slow motion. Time seemed to stand still. She followed the SUV as the driver made his way back across Thomas and cruised around the hospital grounds, probably checking to see if Crystal was actually on her way. He stopped briefly at a passenger loading zone right next to the hospital entrance. For a heart-stopping moment, Ali was afraid he was going to leave the Explorer with the valet and go inside looking for Crystal. Finally, though, he drove away and headed west on Thomas. Hoping to stay out of sight, Ali delayed as long as she could before turning onto Thomas several car lengths back and following him into what was fast turning into afternoon gridlock.

Intent on her pursuit, Ali was startled when her phone rang while she was stopped at the light at 19th and Thomas. Grabbing it up, she was relieved to see Dave’s number in the readout.

“Court just recessed for today,” he told her. “I didn’t get called, which means I’ll have to be back here tomorrow. So where are you? Should I head for Phoenix or back home to Sedona?”

Ali was in full crisis mode, and the very sound of Dave’s calm, unruffled voice helped her get a grip.

“You should probably come on down to Phoenix-to the hospital,” she said.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, but you sound funny. Are you all right?”

Ali was a long way from all right. The light changed and traffic inched toward the freeway, but the Explorer didn’t make it through on that cycle, and neither did Ali.

“I’m stuck in traffic,” she said. “And I need your help.”

“Name it.”

“I need you to run a plate for me.”

“Run a plate?” Dave repeated. “Have you switched over to cop lingo now?”

Ali read off the letters and number. “Please,” she added when she finished. “Just run it.”

“You realize it’s against regulations to run a plate for private use?”

Ali took a deep breath. “It’s about Crystal,” she said.

“Why didn’t you say so?”

Ali hung up. The Explorer turned onto the eastbound I-10 entrance ramp at Thomas and waited for the metered traffic light to allow it to merge onto the crowded freeway. Ali followed suit. Once on the freeway, the Explorer cut in and out of traffic, forcing Ali to do the same. Even so, it took the better part of an anxiety-ridden hour of nail-biting to travel from there to where the Explorer exited onto eastbound U.S. 60.