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She took her cellular from her purse again.
“I’ll give them a call and see if they’re home,” she said and punched in the number from memory, which also impressed Castillo.
“If there’s an answer, hang up,” he ordered.
She raised her eyebrows momentarily and then nodded.
“There’s no answer,” she said, finally.
“I still think we should go to their home,” Castillo said.
“It’s off Roosevelt Boulevard,” Betty said. “The other side of town.”
“Which means another blood-chilling ride down the interstate? ” Miller asked.
“Only if you’re a coward,” Castillo said.
“Or you can ride in the backseat,” Betty said. “Statistics say it’s safer there.”
Castillo thought: I don’t think there is anything more in that comment than what she said.
When they got to the unmarked car, he got in the backseat.
But when she turned on the seat to back the car away from the building, their eyes met again.
[TWO]
2205 Tyson Avenue Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 1040 9 June 2005
Two-two-zero-five Tyson Avenue was a neat brick three-story house just about in the middle of the block. The other houses, built wall to wall, were apparently identical, differing only in the color of the paint trim and the style of awnings and screen doors.
There was no answer to the doorbell, which played chimes. The third time Sergeant Schneider pressed the button, Castillo noticed that one of the chime notes was missing.
“No answer,” Miller said, quite unnecessarily. “What do we do now?”
“I don’t know how the Secret Service does it,” Betty Schneider said, “but we simple cops listen for sounds of life. I heard either a radio or a television.”
I didn’t, Castillo thought, because I wasn’t listening. She’s good!
“Well, they don’t want to answer the doorbell,” Miller pursued. “What do we do? Keep punching the bell until they do?”
“No,” she said. “Yahoo.”
“What?” Castillo asked.
“You know,” she said. “Yahoo on the Internet? It stands for ‘You Always Have Other Options.’ ”
She went down the steps, waving for Castillo and Miller to follow her, and got behind the wheel. This time Castillo got in the front seat. Her eyebrow rose when she saw him there and their eyes met momentarily but she didn’t say anything.
Miller rested his elbows on the back of the front seat.
“Where are we going?” Miller said. “Can I ask?”
“Harrisburg,” she said.
“Harrisburg?”
“Harrisburg,” she repeated. “If I step on it, we can probably make it in a little under three hours.”
