Andrew Gross - Reckless

“Whatever you do, don’t make contact with anyone if I’m not there,” Naomi warned him with an edge of concern.

“Don’t worry. Bye.”

The woman in the red jacket headed down the street. Hauck rolled up the newspaper and followed from the other side. At the corner she turned and headed toward the city center. It led down a hill and onto a commercial boulevard. Pilic Street. Hauck stayed about twenty yards behind.

The woman stopped at a corner where a small queue of pedestrians was huddled up and checked her cell phone. After a minute or two a streetcar came, the old electric kind, wide doors in both the front and rear. The woman climbed on in front. She put out some kind of a card. The driver clipped it. A few others boarded through the rear door. Hauck stepped on with them.

An old conductor, with white hair and a rumpled navy-blue uniform, made his way back, people flashing their transit cards. Hauck didn’t have one and didn’t want to attract any attention. He squeezed through a couple of commuters and opened his paper. He caught the eye of a young boy, maybe eight, who seemed to have noticed. Most everyone else was in the standard early-morning commuter daze. He kept sight of the woman, who had taken a seat up front. He settled back and glanced at his paper. The bus wound its way through town. People got on and off, and at some point the boy and his mother got up, and the kid cast a knowing grin at him.

Hauck winked back at him, as if this would be their buried secret forever.

It took around ten minutes for the bus to weave its way to the other end of town. It was a more upscale neighborhood. It reminded Hauck of where they had come off the main road. Finally he saw the woman in red stand up to get off. The bus stopped. At the back of the bus Hauck stepped off onto the street. The woman jumped off at the front and started to walk.

Hauck fell into step behind her.

A short way ahead she crossed the street and Hauck watched her go into a small shop. A cosmetics store. He came up and saw her wave hello and chat with one or two of the people in there. Not customers, but salespeople. She took off her jacket and placed her bag on a shelf underneath a counter.

It was clear the woman worked there. She wasn’t leading him to anyone now. Damn.

That was when his cell phone sounded. Naomi. “Any luck?” she asked.

“No.” He sighed, dejected. “I got dragged clear across the city on a dead end.”

“Well, things are better back here.” Her voice held excitement in it. “Get back! I think we’ve got her, Ty!”

A woman whom Naomi pegged as around seventy, in a gray skirt and blue Shetland sweater, had come out of the apartment just before ten, locking the front door behind her.

Maria Radisovic.

Naomi followed her down the stairs and onto the street. Her first stop was a butcher store down the block, where she spent several minutes. Then a liquor store across the street, where she came out with a package. Then she picked up two newspapers from a stand. One a USA Today. Bundles in hand, she headed back up the block and stopped at the tobacconist.

By that time Hauck had flagged a taxi and in minutes made it back across the street from the apartment house. As he jumped out, Naomi waved him over.

“I think it’s her,” she said, pointing to the gray-haired woman visible through the tobacco shop window. “She picked up some meat at the butcher, some booze, and now she’s in the tobacco shop. She’s shopping for something…”

“Let’s hope it’s not just Sunday dinner,” Hauck said.

They remained across the street and watched. Four or five minutes later, they spotted the woman emerging. Naomi tapped Hauck on the elbow. “That’s her.”

Hauck could see she did have a possible resemblance to Thibault. She had the same dark features, the heavy jaw; her hair still was thick and probably once black. But a lot of people bore those features here.

Clutching her packages, the woman headed back up the block toward her building. A wave of disappointment traveled through Hauck. She seemed to be going back in. In itself, that didn’t mean much, other than now they’d have to wait all day, maybe into the night, maybe even until tomorrow, to see if Thibault happened to show up.

But to his excitement, she continued past the front gate.

The woman glanced around once, then turned into a narrow alley behind the building with her supplies.

Hauck said, “Stay here.” He waited for a car to pass. “I’ll go see.”

He crossed after her, following her down the narrow alleyway. Around the back of the building, the small road opened up.

A car parking lot.

Maria Radisovic was depositing her parcels into the rear of a small blue Opel. Then, taking a last look around, as if she felt Hauck watching, she got in.

The instincts that had guided Hauck all these years suddenly kicked in. Blood pumping, he ran back out of the alley and signaled Naomi over to their Ford, parked on the side of the street.

“Get in!” he shouted, throwing the driver’s door open.

Naomi hopped in beside him as he turned on the engine. “What?”

“We’re in business!”

Maria Radisovic’s blue Opel pulled out of the small alleyway and turned left on Zinak Street, heading out of town.

Hauck waited until the car disappeared around a bend, then pulled out after her. He felt confident that the woman, supplies in tow, was leading them somewhere promising.

About a mile ahead, tracking the river, the road widened and the commercial shops and apartment dwellings gave way to warehouses, gas stations, even a local power facility. Hauck followed, keeping a couple of hundred yards behind.

A road sign read SEBECEVO, 8 KM.

A couple of miles beyond town, the road they were on started to wind and climb. It narrowed, cutting through the dark hills surrounding the valley Novi Pazar was situated in. Traffic was sparse. Radisovic chugged along at a modest pace. Hauck had to work at it to remain so far behind. Every once in a while a commercial truck zoomed past them.

Neither he nor Naomi had much to say. They both seemed to feel the same anticipation that Maria was going to lead them to something. As the road climbed, the little Opel slowed and Hauck had to keep his diesel in second gear to remain an appropriate distance behind.

SEBECEVO, 3 KM.

As the road crested and started to descend into a wide valley, the Opel’s turn signal began to flash. It was remote terrain. Hauck glanced at Naomi.

They had arrived somewhere.

An unpaved road came into view, marked only by a telephone pole with a sign, SISTENA R, the river. The car ahead made a right turn. It slowed and chugged along the dirt road, and coming upon it, Hauck drove by, glancing at Maria Radisovic bouncing along the rutted terrain. “I don’t want her to spot us turning.”

About a quarter of a mile down the main road he turned onto the shoulder. He spun back around and stopped before the turnoff. They could no longer see Maria Radisovic’s car.

“This is it.” He eyed Naomi expectantly. “Last chance to pull out.”

She shook her head. Anticipation shone in her eyes. “Let’s see what she’s up to.”

They turned down the gravelly road. It cut through a fallow field and wound through a dense thatch of woods, steadily rising. Hauck’s pulse seemed to bump along in the same rhythm as the car.

They passed a tree-shaded cottage, barely more than a hut, with a few farm animals in pens. A dog ran out at them, barking.

No sign of Maria’s Opel.

Around a bend, the road cleared the woods and led them into a wide valley. Hills rose up in front of them. Hauck could see a couple of houses dotting the hillside ahead.