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Sliding into his rental car, Gideon turned it on and backed out of the driveway. Once he was a few blocks away from Trotter’s place, he pulled to the curb and grabbed his phone. Opened the app for the GPS tracking device he’d dropped into Alex Conway’s bag earlier at the restaurant. Just in case.
He always had back-up plans for his back-up plans.
He’d known her car and license plate, and Trotter had told him she’d texted that she’d be at a Mexican restaurant with her team. She was the only redhead in the large party. Easy to single her out. He’d put a tracker on her car, as well.
According to the app, she wasn’t at the restaurant, but she was close by. At a park?
He frowned at the screen. What the hell was she doing in a park?
The dot began to move toward the downtown area again, and he followed her progress. Tilted his head as she stopped. Didn’t move for ten minutes, then she began moving once again. Not on any roads, though. What the hell?
He planned very carefully, and he expected things to go as planned. When they didn’t, he needed to understand why.
The logical move, the one he’d expected, was that Alex Conway would go home after her dinner.
Why hadn’t she?
Gideon stared at the screen until he realized what was going on. She was on the El. Heading south. Going to the Loop? To a friend’s house? A lover’s?
Or was she running? If she’d somehow found out about Trotter’s plans, maybe she’d panicked. Taken off.
He drove a little too fast down Dempster, then pulled into a fast food restaurant near the Edens Expressway. If she was visiting a friend, he’d drive to where she’d stopped. Wait to see what she did next.
If she was taking the El to O’Hare or Midway, he could jump on the Edens. This late at night, with a little luck he’d get to either airport ahead of her. Then all he’d have to do was intercept her.
