Page 152 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Two

Debbie’s paranoia was rubbing off on her. Of course, Debbiehad a right to feel paranoid.

And then there was Officer Whittaker.

They had to find him. Truly. The man had children. He wasloved and respected and...

They would find him. They’d procure footage from a trafficcam, at the least. And with any luck, they wouldidentify the driver of the car in which he had disappeared, using facialrecognition.

Still, the uneasy feeling wouldn’t go away. She stared atthe playground again.

Everything looked so normal.

Jackson drove up, and she jumped into the car with a smileas she looked at him.

“Any neighbors with cameras that showed the street?”

“Yep. And we have traffic cam footage, too. They’re working it now. But I got a call from Megan. We have nothingto hold the writer on, and he’s getting antsy. We’re going to need to see whatwe can get from him. Now.”

“Right. Of course.”

Jackson knew how to drive and maneuver the streets ofNorthern Virginia and DC as few others did.

They were halfway back when Jackson’s phone rang. Heanswered the call through the car speaker, and they glanced at each other asMegan’s voice came through.

“Hey! I’ve been charming, I swear. I’ve talked about movies,books... articles, history. Great things to love about a book over othermediums. But he grew impatient and said he has a few meetings tonight. I don’tthink I can keep him much longer.”

“Try. We’re almost there,” Jackson said. “Walk him out, keeptalking—”

“Tell him how brilliant he is,” Angela suggested, shruggingas Jackson glanced her way. “Sometimes, that works.”

“All right. Still...”

It took another twenty minutes to reach headquarters. Theyhurried from the car and the parking garage to the office, just as a man waswalking out, followed by Megan.

Megan was a beautiful woman with her soft red hair and finefeatures.

And she knew how to flirt—even while married.

She was being charming as she walkedout toward the cars with the man.

Jefferson Moore.

He was young, as Patrick had said from seeing his face inthe video from the Robertson funeral service.

Perhaps thirty-two or thirty-three. He was a tall man withsweeping dark hair, dark eyes, a deep tan, and a fit form.

He wore jeans and a casual beige leather jacket over a shirtthat bore several colorful pictures of the late Elvis Presley.

Music lover?

“Ah!” Megan exclaimed. “Here they are now, Jeff. I’m so gladthey made it back. You’re going to love Angela. She shares your love ofhistory, architecture, and all things old. Especially all those that lead to usin the present. Jefferson Moore, I’m delighted to introduce you to JacksonCrow, our fearless leader, and Special Agent Angela Hawkins Crow, who tends tobe our great font of knowledge.”

Megan had obviously been working hard to keep talking.Behind Moore’s back, she made an exhausted face.

Angela smiled easily as she moved forward to shake the man’shand. Jackson did the same.

“Pleasure. I’m afraid I don’t have much time,” Moore toldthem. “The agent who brought me in led me to believe we could talk right away.”

“I’m afraid life intervenes at times,” Jackson said.