J. Jance - Web of Evil

A piece of the puzzle fell into place. If the Pink Swan was a surveillance-free zone, Ali realized, that might explain why no one had any record of Paul's exit from there. And who had been in charge of choosing the venue for the bachelor party? Presumably Jake Maxwell.

A pair of matching RVs nosed into the aisle and parked side by side directly across from Tracy McLaughlin's. Once the newly arrived vehicles were in place, several people exited. Laughing and talking, they set off across the parking lot toward the store entrance.

Tracy glanced at his watch. "Look," he said impatiently, "I'm tired. I had a big match today, and I have another one early tomorrow morning. Could we do this some other time?"

"My mother's missing now," Ali insisted. "What did Jake Maxwell want when he came here a little while ago?"

"It was just a scheduling glitch," he said. "One of the other guys canceled a match. Jake was hoping I could step in for him."

"So when Jake has a problem, he comes to you with it?" Dave asked.

Tracy nodded.

"Why didn't he call? You do have a cell, don't you?"

Tracy shrugged. "Maybe he wanted to get out of the house for a while."

"And maybe he didn't want there to be a record of his calling you," Dave suggested.

"Look," Tracy said, "I'm here, minding my own business, not bothering anyone"

"Is that what you were doing when you spent last night in April's room?" Ali asked. "Minding your own business?"

Clearly her pointed question surprised Tracy McLaughlin. He didn't deny that, either.

"I already told you we were friends," he said. "That's what she needed last nighta friend." He tossed his dying cigarette out into the parking lot. Ali scurried down the stairs. She retrieved the smoldering butt, ground it out, and put it in her pocket.

"What are you doing?" Tracy demanded.

"You said you weren't the baby's father," she said. "It may take a few weeks to get a real answer, but your DNA should prove it one way or the other."

"I didn't give you permission to take that," Tracy began. He started down the stairs after her, but Dave stepped up and blocked his way.

"I'm not a police officer," she said. "You tossed your trash out into a public parking lot. If I want to clean up your litter, that's my call, not yours. And if I'm willing to pay for a paternity test, that's my call, too."

Ali stepped around to the back of the Honda and studied the temporary plate. "While we're at it," she added, "tell us about this vehicle. I see you just bought iton Friday. But I was under the impression you were having a tough time financially. So where'd the money come from for a new car?"

"That's none of your business," Tracy said. "I want you to leave now, before I have to call the cops."

"I already told you," Dave said. "I am a cop."

"More cops then," Tracy said.

"By all means, call away," Ali said. "With everything that's gone on the past few days, I think they'll be interested in hearing what we all have to say."

Without another word, Tracy McLaughlin returned to his RV, slamming the door shut behind him.

"The DNA thing certainly got a reaction," Dave observed. "Now what? Back to the hotel?"

"Sure," Ali said, but once she was behind the wheel, she steered away from the entrance to the parking lot and tucked the Cayenne in among the vehicles parked near the front of the store.

"What now?" Dave asked.

"Let's just watch for a while and see if he stays put," Ali answered. "It worked once with Jake Maxwell. Maybe it'll work again with Tracy."

And it did. Less than twenty minutes later, a dark-colored Ford Windstar minivan pulled into the lot. It stopped next to Tracy's RV. The Cayenne was parked too far away for Ali and Dave to be able to make out exactly what was happening.

"Stay here," Dave said. "I'll try to get closer."

While he was out of the car, Ali's cell phone rang. "Any sign of your mother?" Bob Larson asked. Ali heard the edge of panic in her father's voice.

"Not so far," Ali returned.

"Damn," Bob muttered. "I've got a really bad feeling about this."

Ali did, too, but she didn't want to say so. "We'll find her," Ali told her father with far more confidence than she felt. We've got to!

As the call ended Dave ducked into the passenger seat and then leaned back, breathing a sigh of apparent relief. "Thank God they didn't see me," he said, "but now we know how they do it."

"Do what?"

"How Sumo Sudoku can support all those very expensive RVs."

"What are you talking about?" Ali asked.

"The sudoku thing is probably nothing but an elaborate cover. I'm guessing they're really using the RVs as part of a drug distribution network, transporting drugs up and down the West Coast with their cargoholds full of something besides those round granite rocks. I'm guessing they're moving heroin or else coke. They just unloaded a bunch of stuff from Tracy's RV and stuck it in the minivan. My guess is that Jake Maxwell came racing over here tonight to let Tracy know that we had been nosing around and that they needed to make arrangements to get rid of the goods sooner rather than later."

"Are you telling me Jake Maxwell and Paul got involved in some kind of drug-smuggling group?" Ali asked.

"That's how it looks."

By then the load transfer was finished and the van was pulling away from Tracy's RV. "They're leaving," Ali said. "Shouldn't we follow them?"

As Ali reached for the key, Dave caught her hand in midair and kept her from turning the key in the ignition.

"Absolutely not!" he declared. "There were three of them at least. Four counting McLaughlin. That means we'd be outmannedno offenseand probably outgunned, too. This is way more than you and I can handle on our own."

"We call the cops then?"

"No," Dave said.

Ali was exasperated. "You mean we're just going to let them get away?"

"For right now," Dave answered. "If we've stumbled onto a big-time drug-smuggling program, you've got to understandthese people aren't to be trifled with. You try bluffing guys like that or crossing them, and they'll blow you away without a second thought. From the looks of it, this could be a very big operation, which means we're going to have to go higher up the food chain than the local LAPD cop shop."

"What do you mean?"

"Once I get back to the hotel, I'll call in the Marines."

"The Marines?" Ali repeated.

"One Marine in particularEzekiel Washington, if I can find him. Easy' for short," Dave added. "When he's not deployed with the reserves, he works for the DEA here in L.A. Once they get wind of this, they're going to want to take down the whole thingnot just Tracy McLaughlin and the guys loading the van."

They were on the 101 by then. For a while Ali drove in thoughtful silence. What Dave had said about drug dealers killing people without compunction had hit her hard. "Do you think my mother's somehow mixed up with this drug business?" she asked finally.

"She may have blundered into it the same way we did," Dave replied somberly.

Ali felt her stomach clutch. "We'll be lucky to see her alive, won't we?"

As the hours had worn on, Ali had managed to keep her worst fear at bay. Now, having spoken it aloud, she felt like she was drowning in self-reproach. Whatever befell Edie Larson would be all Ali's fault. If she hadn't let herself be bamboozled into marrying Paul Grayson in the first place, none of this would have happened. It was bad enough to learn that he'd been unfaithful to her. That much she had somehow suspected, and having it verified hadn't been all that much of a shock. But for him to have been involved in the drug trade, too? That was way beyond anything she had ever thought Paul capable of, but then she guessed she hadn't known him nearly as well as she thought she had.