a boyfriend named Diaz.”
“Her?” Milla asked, her own eyebrows going north.
“Definitely a ‘her.’ That’s why I was thinking angry girlfriend. Sounds like you pulled on someone’s chain, for sure.”
Yes, it did. This was interesting, and exciting. “Did you get the number?”
“Sure.” Olivia went over to her desk and checked Caller ID. “It says ‘El Paso,’ but I don’t recognize the exchange.”
Brian ambled over and looked at the number. “Phone card,” he said. “Untraceable.”
There was something about Brian that always got on every last New Yorker nerve Olivia possessed. “Really.” Her tone was ice cold. “I suppose you can tell age, sex, and weight from the phone number, too, O Great White Hunter.” The last was a subtle dig at his military background; Olivia was a staunch dove who had only with the greatest reluctance learned anything at all about firearms.
“Not sex,” he said, grinning. “I use another method for that.” He topped things off by ruffling her hair before prudently retreating out of reach. “Not only that, I buy phone cards to use for long-distance calls, so I know how the numbers show up on Caller ID. With my vast expertise, I’d say that’s an AT&T card, easily purchased at any Wal-Mart and a gazillion other places.”
Milla had often bought phone cards to use while she was on the road and cell phone service was spotty, but she doubted Olivia, with her moneyed background, had ever even noticed the cards for sale practically everywhere. If she needed to make a call and didn’t have cell service, she would simply charge the call to her credit card or her home phone, thereby guaranteeing astronomical rates.
Getting back to the subject, Milla said, “Let’s lay out the facts. Late yesterday afternoon, I got a call on my cell phone giving me the tip on Diaz. The caller was a man. I didn’t notice the number, but I’ll check it, see if it matches up with today’s call. Brian and I both thought it might be a setup, not for us, but for Diaz. Someone wanting him out of the way.
“We get to the meeting place, and the man who took Justin is one of the men who show up. He’s the only one I recognized. The odds are
he’s
Diaz, because the coincidence is fairly large.”
Milla noticed that as she talked, Joann was busily writing down each point.
“The four men arrived in two cars, two in each car, and took something out of one car trunk and transferred it to the other. I couldn’t see what it was—” Because her head had been pulled back at a painful angle.
“A body,” said Brian, his tone flat. “Wrapped in a tarp or blanket.”
A chill went down Milla’s spine. She should have realized, but she’d been too focused on the one-eyed man. This was yet another illustration that she had to get control of her emotions; she was missing things that should have been obvious to her.
“I was knocked down by an unseen assailant who was also very interested in the four men, and not at all interested in what I was doing there. When the four men drove away, he used the carotid-artery thingie to knock me out—”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Brian interrupted, his gaze sharpening.
“Knocked out is knocked out. At least I didn’t have a concussion.”
“No, but unless you know what you’re doing, you can cause brain damage if you press too long. Though I guess in most cases you wouldn’t care, considering you’re cutting off someone’s blood supply to his brain. Or her brain, in your case.”
That was a perspective she could have done without, to realize how easily she could have been left impaired. Not that there was anything she could have done to protect herself, other than not be there in the first place, and withdrawing from the search simply wasn’t an option.
She shook away her retrospective alarm. “I assume the man then followed one of the cars, but he might not have. He might have followed Brian and me. I can’t think of any reason
“Her?” Milla asked, her own eyebrows going north.
“Definitely a ‘her.’ That’s why I was thinking angry girlfriend. Sounds like you pulled on someone’s chain, for sure.”
Yes, it did. This was interesting, and exciting. “Did you get the number?”
“Sure.” Olivia went over to her desk and checked Caller ID. “It says ‘El Paso,’ but I don’t recognize the exchange.”
Brian ambled over and looked at the number. “Phone card,” he said. “Untraceable.”
There was something about Brian that always got on every last New Yorker nerve Olivia possessed. “Really.” Her tone was ice cold. “I suppose you can tell age, sex, and weight from the phone number, too, O Great White Hunter.” The last was a subtle dig at his military background; Olivia was a staunch dove who had only with the greatest reluctance learned anything at all about firearms.
“Not sex,” he said, grinning. “I use another method for that.” He topped things off by ruffling her hair before prudently retreating out of reach. “Not only that, I buy phone cards to use for long-distance calls, so I know how the numbers show up on Caller ID. With my vast expertise, I’d say that’s an AT&T card, easily purchased at any Wal-Mart and a gazillion other places.”
Milla had often bought phone cards to use while she was on the road and cell phone service was spotty, but she doubted Olivia, with her moneyed background, had ever even noticed the cards for sale practically everywhere. If she needed to make a call and didn’t have cell service, she would simply charge the call to her credit card or her home phone, thereby guaranteeing astronomical rates.
Getting back to the subject, Milla said, “Let’s lay out the facts. Late yesterday afternoon, I got a call on my cell phone giving me the tip on Diaz. The caller was a man. I didn’t notice the number, but I’ll check it, see if it matches up with today’s call. Brian and I both thought it might be a setup, not for us, but for Diaz. Someone wanting him out of the way.
“We get to the meeting place, and the man who took Justin is one of the men who show up. He’s the only one I recognized. The odds are
he’s
Diaz, because the coincidence is fairly large.”
Milla noticed that as she talked, Joann was busily writing down each point.
“The four men arrived in two cars, two in each car, and took something out of one car trunk and transferred it to the other. I couldn’t see what it was—” Because her head had been pulled back at a painful angle.
“A body,” said Brian, his tone flat. “Wrapped in a tarp or blanket.”
A chill went down Milla’s spine. She should have realized, but she’d been too focused on the one-eyed man. This was yet another illustration that she had to get control of her emotions; she was missing things that should have been obvious to her.
“I was knocked down by an unseen assailant who was also very interested in the four men, and not at all interested in what I was doing there. When the four men drove away, he used the carotid-artery thingie to knock me out—”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Brian interrupted, his gaze sharpening.
“Knocked out is knocked out. At least I didn’t have a concussion.”
“No, but unless you know what you’re doing, you can cause brain damage if you press too long. Though I guess in most cases you wouldn’t care, considering you’re cutting off someone’s blood supply to his brain. Or her brain, in your case.”
That was a perspective she could have done without, to realize how easily she could have been left impaired. Not that there was anything she could have done to protect herself, other than not be there in the first place, and withdrawing from the search simply wasn’t an option.
She shook away her retrospective alarm. “I assume the man then followed one of the cars, but he might not have. He might have followed Brian and me. I can’t think of any reason
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