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“Not much. There are a few personal things. Some clothes. Some basics in the bath. But no tech. Whoever grabbed her took her phone and any other devices she might have had.”
“They didn’t want other buyers to look for her,” Talia whispered. “Maybe they plan to murder her and dump the body.”
“If they wanted to kill her, they could have done it here and made it look like a burglary-in-progress murder. It would have been the simplest way to silence her. Instead they took the risk of kidnapping her. Maybe she’s important to them for reasons besides the list.”
“You seem to know a lot about how bad guys think.”
“I’m using a technique called logic,” he said.
“I wasn’t criticizing you,” she said quickly. “Figuring out how bad guys think is a very useful skill set.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you approve. Moving right along, you have my name but I don’t have yours. Care to introduce yourself?”
Her intuition sent a chill of warning. She was once again aware of an intriguingly resonant vibe in his voice.He’s trying to make me think I can trust him.And it was working.
“Are you in sales?” she asked, deeply suspicious. “Or maybe you’re a professional con artist?”
His eyes tightened. “What are you talking about?”
“Never mind. My name is Talia March. Enough about me. Got any identification?”
He hesitated and then, evidently resigned to humoring her, he pulled out a small, flat black wallet and flipped it open. She aimed her light at the California driver’s license. There was a photo of Luke’s hard, uncompromising face and an address in a town named Adelina Beach.
“Fine,” she said. “You are licensed to drive a car. That doesn’t tell me anything useful.”
Without a word he flipped to another document. It, too, showed his face. The fine print identified him as a member of the faculty of Adelina Beach College.
“I’ve never heard of Adelina Beach College,” she said.
“It’s a small school in a community outside of L.A.”
“Is that right? What do you teach?”
“History. Okay, my turn. What do you do for a living, Talia March?”
“I’m a member of theLost Night Filespodcast team. Oh, and I do a little private consulting on the side.”
“You’ve got apodcast?” Luke stared at her, clearly blindsided. “What the hell?”
She steeled herself because she knew what was coming next. “We investigate cold cases that have a paranormal angle.”
“Shit. Just what I needed. A podcaster chasing a ghost story.”
Okay, sure, she had been prepared for the disdain and the irritation, but she got mad anyway. It had been a particularly stressful twenty-four hours, what with the body in the trash bin and now a missing informant. She was not in a good mood.
“Considering the fact that you are chasing the same list I’m after, I don’t think you have any business insulting me or the podcast,” she said.
“You know, we really don’t have time for this argument. I suggest we save it for later.”
“At the rate this conversation is deteriorating, there may not be a later. Your turn to hand over some information. Why, exactly, are you after the list Phoebe Hatch wanted to sell to us?”
“I want it because I’m pretty sure I’m on it.”
“Oh.” For some reason that caught her by surprise.Should have seen it coming.
“What about you?” he said. “Are you chasing it because you’ve decided it will make a good story for the conspiracy theory crowd?”
“Don’t push your luck, Rand. I want that list for the same reason you do. I think my friends and I are on it.”
