Emily Locke 01 - Final Approach

had the headache all along but had been too distracted to know.
    My cell phone rang. The call was coming from BioTek.
    “It’s Bowman.” I punched Ignore Call, annoyed he was wasting my precious battery.
    “Of course, it’s him.” Jeannie checked her watch with an exaggerated flourish. “While
I
am on vacation today, I’m afraid
you
are three hours late for work.”
    I rested my head on the wall behind me and closed my eyes, wishing my
life
had a button: Ignore All.

Chapter Thirty
    “Quit it.” Jeannie didn’t look up from her hands. She was picking at a cuticle. Her legs were crossed, the top foot swinging.
    “Quit what?”
    “Stop staring at me. You’re bugging me.”
    I didn’t know I’d fixated on her. I shifted my gaze to the cluttered tabletop and took in the layers of computer magazines. Except for us, ResusciData’s waiting room was empty.
    “I’m trying to make sense of Richard’s theory,” I said.
    Jeannie stopped swinging her leg and looked up from her nails. This time, I felt her eyes lock onto me. An automatic air freshener mounted on the wall sprayed out a poof of something lemony.
    I stood and paced the little room.
    Jeannie followed me with her eyes. The way she looked over the top of her sunglasses reminded me of a disapproving teacher.
    “Something’s wrong with you.” She cocked her head, like she was figuring something out. “It’s not what Richard said that’s got you thinking. It’s what Clement said, isn’t it? I’ve been wondering when you’d come back to that.”
    I lowered my voice. “How could I
not
be thinking about Clement? He all but told me Trish’s people had something to do with Jack and Annette. That means we were right…they did kidnap Mattie Shelton. When their threats didn’t work, they tried to kill me before I could testify. Except…”
    I felt tears welling and wondered if she could see that.
    She was careful to keep her voice low too. “Except what?”
    “I didn’t go on the boat that morning. Jack wanted me to have time to myself, quiet time to decompress after the threats and the break-in. So, while I was painting my toenails…or reading on the beach…or doing some other selfish, indulgent thing—”
    Jeannie dropped her head into her hands. “They went after the boat you rented. Because they expected you to be on board.”
    “I think so.”
    “But you’re alive. Why not try again?”
    I shrugged. “They got what they wanted. I missed the trial.”
    She didn’t speak right away.
    “I think they got more than they wanted,” I said. “I think they got Annette.”
    When I blinked, tears fell down both cheeks. I swiped at them and tried to compose myself, turning my back to the counter so Brad wouldn’t see.
    Jeannie seemed confused. “Sweetie, why don’t you—”
    “I think they sold her,” I blurted.
    I knew I couldn’t keep it together. Not seeing a ladies room, I rushed outside.
    Jeannie followed. We stopped at the corner of the building, beyond the lobby windows. If there were people in the parking lot, I didn’t notice.
    “Sold her?”
    “This is bigger than Trish and Casey Lyons.” My voice sounded far away. Putting words to my fears made my chin quiver. “I think it’s a group, like a ring. Trish Dalton, her brother Mark, Ed Kosh…I think they’re like a cell, part of something bigger.”
    Jeannie wiped my cheek. “Slow down.”
    “Think about it,” I said. “Cells use people with different skills. People who can fly planes, disable alarms, kidnap hostages…”
    Her eyes flashed at the last one. She started to say something, but the glass door to the computer shop swung open, ringing bells that were tied to its handle. Brad poked his head outside. I turned away from him and wiped my eyes and nose.
    “Good, you’re here,” he said. “It’s done.”
    The bells clanged on the glass again.
    “He’s gone,” Jeannie said.
    I sniffled, composed myself. She ran a thumb under each of my eyes, her way of fixing me up and taking care of me.
    “Guess we should see what he’s got,” I said.
    “That’s my girl.”
    She wrapped an arm around my shoulder and led me inside.
    Behind the counter, we looked over Brad’s shoulder at a list of directories on the hard drive. I wanted to shove him out of his chair.
    “Hey,” I said to Jeannie. “Didn’t you want to search the hard drive?”
    “Thanks,” Jeannie said, to me. Then, turning to Brad, she added, “Can I take a quick look in my son’s