Untraceable (13 page)

The white-haired policeman. He stood motionless at the end of the aisle. Only his gaze moved—from her face, to her weapon, then back to her face again. At his side, he held a familiar pistol.

“Don’t shoot,” he said calmly.

Slowly, Alex lowered her gun. Slowly, the man moved toward her. Fear and anger and confusion swirled through her head as he stopped in front of her.

“Your name’s not Bill Scoffield,” she said.

“No, it isn’t.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The voice was the same, though.
East Texas, maybe Nacogdoches
, Sophie had said. But Scoffield was supposed to be from Midland.

“Where is he? That man?” Alex nodded toward the far side of the stockroom, where the chatter was reaching a fever pitch.

“Lit out across that parking lot.”

“But… shouldn’t you guys go after him?”

“What ‘guys’?” He tucked his weapon into a holster beneath his jacket, and for the first time she noticed the star pinned to his lapel.

“It’s just me,” he said. “And anyway, he’s long gone. You can put that away.” He nodded at her SIG.

“I need to see some ID first.”

He rested his hands on his hips and sighed. Then he tugged a leather folio from the inside pocket of his jacket and flipped it open.

Alex eyed the photograph, then the name beneath it:
John Holt. Texas Ranger.
She glanced at his badge again. The
cinco peso
, it was called. And the lawmen who wore them were legendary throughout Texas.

“Okay?” He flipped the case shut and tucked it back into his pocket.

She slipped her gun into her purse beside her dusty phone.

The door beside them burst open and a pair of wide-eyed security guards rushed in, walkie-talkies drawn.

“Police,” Holt said quickly. He whipped out his creds again and flashed them at the guards.

“We got a report of gunshots,” the larger one said, and his gaze dropped to the bits of plaster and dust on the floor.

Holt turned to Alex. “Lemme take care of this. And then we need to talk.”

Alex opened her mouth to protest, but her phone chimed. Holt turned away to calm the security guards while Alex checked the screen.

Sophie, of course.

“What
happened
?” she squeaked. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“I was about to call 911! Are you sure—”

“Positive. I’ve gotta go now, though, okay? Call you later.” Alex clicked off as the guards strode past her, talking into their radios. Their footsteps faded to the other side of the stockroom.

“Where are they going?” Alex asked.

“Parking lot,” Holt said. “They need to check everything I told them so they can put it in their reports.”

“And what did you tell them?”

He watched her for a long moment. “We need to talk,” he repeated.

“All right. Talk.”

“Not here. Come with me.”

Alex followed him through the bowels of the shopping mall as he made a few phone calls. Pipes creaked and hummed around them. They passed a whistling janitor, a security guard. After a few more twists and turns, they came to another gray door, this one with
MALL SECURITY
stenciled on it in black. Holt opened the door. A large African American man in uniform approached them. He and Holt exchanged words. Then the ranger opened yet another gray door and nodded for Alex to step inside.

The small, putty-colored room had cinder-block walls and a low ceiling. A fluorescent strip of lighting gave everything a sickly hue. Alex entered the room, propped her good shoulder against the wall, and crossed her arms. “Talk,” she said.

Holt pulled the door shut behind him. He glanced around, then dragged a metal folding chair over and sank into it. For a moment, he just looked at her. Then he stretched out his long legs and crossed his arms.

“You’re hard to keep up with.”

She didn’t respond.

“You don’t return phone calls, either.”

“I didn’t want your job,” she said simply.

“You could have told me.”

She shrugged and looked away. She was still shaking, and she squeezed her arms closer to her body, hoping he wouldn’t see it.

She met his gaze again. “You’ve been following me.”

“I’ve been following someone
else
who’s been following you.”

“Same thing.”

“Not really.”

“That guy back there,” she said, “the one who shot at you. Do you know who he is?”

“We’re working on that. My guess is, he works with Coghan. Are you sure you don’t recognize him from anyplace?”

“I’m sure.” Alex bit her lip and tried to conjure up details that might help with the guy’s identity. Just remembering him made bile rise up in the back of her throat.

“He had a black sun tattooed on his hand,” she said. “And olive skin. I think he’s Hispanic.”

Holt nodded.

“He was strong, too. For his height, I mean.”

“I’ll make a note of that.” Holt cocked his head to the side and frowned at her. “You want an ice pack? That cheek’s starting to swell.”

“No,” she said. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“What?”

“You said, ‘
we’re
’ working on his identity.”

“That would be me,” he said. “And some colleagues.”

Colleagues.
Talk about evasive. Alex tried for patience, but her stomach was twisted in knots and she could feel the shakes coming on.

“I thought you were alone,” she said.

“On this assignment, I am.” He smiled slightly. “I drew the short straw today.”

“What is this, some kind of police corruption scandal?”

He watched her calmly. It must be the training. Flying bullets and foot chases didn’t seem to faze him. But Alex still felt woozy. She hugged her arms closer.

“I’m going to tell you more than I should,” he said now, “because I think you can help us.”

She stared at him and waited.

“I’m looking for Melanie Coghan,” he said. “That wasn’t a lie.”

“Why don’t you ask her husband what happened to her?”

“We’re not real eager to tip him off that he’s under investigation.”

“Who’s investigating him?” she persisted. “Besides the Texas Rangers?”

“That’s not something you need to worry about. Let’s just call it a task force and leave it at that.”

“So this is a corruption thing? Or are you simply investigating him for murder?”

His steady gaze was her answer. Alex rolled her eyes and looked away. Of course not. Why put together a task force over the menial matter of a woman’s death? This was probably about money. Probably Coghan was on the take from the drug dealers his narco squad was supposed to be busting.

Alex pushed off from the wall. “I can’t help you. I don’t know where Melanie is. My best guess is, you should try dragging Lake Austin.”

“We did.”

She blinked at him. They’d dragged the lake? Even Nathan didn’t know about that.

Unless, as she’d begun to suspect, he was holding out on her.

A little knife twisted in her chest.

“Why don’t we back up a bit here, all right?” Holt said. “I want to know why that man tried to kidnap you. You have any ideas?”

“He wasn’t terribly chatty.”

“Did he ask you any questions?”

“No.”

“What do you think he wanted?”

“It seemed pretty clear he wanted me dead.” She suppressed a shudder.

He watched her a long moment. “Where did Melanie go after you helped her leave town?”

“You really don’t know?”

He shook his head.

“I helped her get settled in the Southeast,” she said vaguely. “That was back in the fall. I haven’t heard from her lately, though.”

“Does she know you’re looking for her?”

“If she’s alive, she does. She know
you’re
looking for her?”

“Yes. But we haven’t seen or heard from her in six months.”

Alex shook her head. This case just kept getting more and more complicated. He hadn’t seen Melanie since Alex helped her leave town, supposedly because her husband was beating her. Alex could have kicked herself. Melanie had misled her about almost everything since the day she’d walked into Lovell Solutions.

“I think I’m getting the picture here,” she said, and watched Holt’s reaction carefully. “I’m guessing you approached Melanie back in the fall. Maybe you wanted her testimony?”

“She can’t testify against her husband in court. Not about this, anyway.”

Alex pursed her lips. She
could
testify about domestic abuse. Spousal privilege didn’t apply to that. But this task force wasn’t interested in Melanie’s home life, evidently. “So, what’d you want from her?”

“We wanted her to wear a wire around Coghan and some of his associates. We thought she might be able to get us some good intelligence about their operation.”

“And risk her life doing it.”

He paused. “Her life was already at risk.”

Unbelievable.

“You scared her off,” Alex stated. “Hence, she came to
me
so she could disappear.”

Holt nodded.

“Well, I think she has disappeared,” Alex said. “I suggest you and your task force find another inside source. Oh, and maybe open a murder investigation while you’re at it. I believe Coghan killed her, along with her boyfriend.”

“Joe Turner,” he said. “The one we found in Lake Austin.”

“I didn’t realize he’d been identified.”

“Melanie ever tell you about him?”

“No.”

“You seem hostile, Alex.”

“I don’t appreciate being lied to and manipulated,
Bill
.”

The side of his mouth twitched up. “Ah, come on now. Don’t tell me you’ve never had to lie to get a job done.”

Alex’s phone chimed again, and she fished it out of her purse. Nathan.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi there.”

Just the sound of his voice made the tremors start again. Alex turned away from Holt. “I can’t talk right now.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s peachy,” she said, borrowing one of his phrases as she tried to keep her voice even. “Listen, can we talk later? I’m in the middle of something.”

“Call me.”

She shoved the phone into her purse and checked her watch. Almost seven. She could feel her composure slipping, and she needed to get home. She was getting that acidy feeling in her stomach, and the walls of this little room were starting to close in.

“I need to go.”

Holt didn’t say anything, and she moved for the door.

He stood up and reached around for the knob, effectively blocking her. “I need you to stay in touch.”

She glared up at him. “Why don’t you and your task force stay in touch with me? You can start by giving me a call when you find out the name of the asshole who just attacked me.”

“We’re working on it.”

“Like you’re working on finding out who killed Melanie?”

He didn’t say anything as she gazed up at him. Finally, he turned the knob and pulled open the door.

“Stay in touch, Alex,” he told her.

“You bet.”

Alex parked illegally in an alley two blocks from her building. She ignored the gestures and horn blasts as she darted across Lavaca Street and jogged to her office. She would spend five minutes, ten tops. She’d send Sophie home, collect her laptop, and then close up shop. Then she’d go home and fall to pieces in private.

She rapped impatiently on the glass. Sophie buzzed her in.

Her assistant took one look at her and jumped to her feet. “Oh my
God
!” She came out from behind the desk. “What happened?”

“Long story.” She tossed her purse on the sofa and went straight for her file cabinet. She yanked open the top drawer.

“Alex, what—”

“What happened to my files?” she demanded.

Sophie stepped back, visibly rattled by her tone. And probably her appearance, too, by the appalled look on her face.

“What’d you do to these files?”

“I, uh… alphabetized them.”

“Where’s Scoffield?” Alex pawed through the folders. What was this crap?

“He’s under ‘B’ for Bess. The Melanie Bess case. You said—”

“Don’t screw with my stuff.” She spotted the neat little tab within the Bess file:
SCOFFIELD, WILLIAM
. Alex muttered a curse and jerked the folder from the drawer. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen for it. She should have hunted down a photograph. Sure, there was an attorney named William Scoffield practicing law in Midland. Just like there was some guy Bess who’d died recently in Midland County. But neither of those people had anything to do with Melanie Coghan. Bess was a common name. Holt had probably searched the death records, then built his story from there.

“Alex, I think you need some ice.” Sophie’s worried gaze shifted to her cheek.

Alex took a deep breath. She reminded herself that her assistant was only trying to assist her. “I’ll get some at home.”

“But, Alex—”

“I just need to grab my laptop.” She shoved the file under her arm and strode toward her office. “You can head out now,” she said over her shoulder.

“But—”

“Don’t worry about the rented car. We’ll return it in the morning.”

“But you have a client—”

Alex pushed open her office door.

“—waiting for you.”

She stopped cold.

The file slipped to the floor. Her jaw dropped open. She stared at the pale, black-haired woman slumped over her desk, snoring.

Melanie.