Read Online The One That Got Away by Simon Wood - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Simon Wood
Tags: Drama, Fiction, thriller, Suspense, Psychological, Mystery & Detective, Crime, Private Investigators, Adult
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already. Had he missed her? He hoped not. He pieced together a timeline. Working from the time of the news report, he estimated Zoë had engaged the cops approximately three-and-a-half hours ago. To hustle her from Pier 25 to this office wouldn’t have taken long, but they would have most likely put her on ice for a while so they could run a background check. Maybe he was being optimistic, but he could see them grilling her for a couple of hours if she’d told them something worthwhile. It was still in the realm of possibility that she was in there. The thought buoyed him. He decided he’d give it another two hours before he called it quits for the night.
But he didn’t have to wait that long. Forty minutes later, Zoë emerged from the slab-sided building. A man in his thirties, wearing a suit, escorted her down the steps to the sidewalk. Beck guessed he was either a plainclothes cop or a district attorney. Zoë and the man were talking, but he was too far away to catch any of the conversation.
A car that appeared to be an unmarked police vehicle drew to a stop in front of them. The man held the door open for Zoë, and she climbed into the back of the car.
Beck started his Honda Pilot and pulled onto Bryant Street behind them. Tailing the unmarked was a trickier proposition than normal. Now that they were into the small hours of the morning, traffic was scarce, giving him little in the way of vehicles to hide behind. All he could do was hang back and hope for the best. He liked to think his cause was helped by driving the ultraordinary Honda. It was practically urban camouflage. He wondered if cops looked for a tail as a matter of course. He imagined they scanned for illegal activities, but he doubted they figured they were being surveilled. He put that down to the arrogance of their position. Police saw themselves as untouchable, even bulletproof. He guessed he’d soon know if his tail had been spotted or not. The cop driving Zoë wouldn’t do the dirty work himself, not with a person of interest in the car. No, it would be called in, and a separate unit would try to pull him over.
The unmarked cut across the city. He mentally crossed off neighborhoods as they passed through them. He was starting to wonder if this was a wild-goose chase when the unmarked slowed and turned into an apartment complex. The security gate eased back as the cop car approached. It was a small complex, maybe less than thirty units, and Beck chose not to follow them inside. Instead, he pulled over, jogged across the street, and stopped in front of the gate just as it closed. He watched the uniformed cop walk Zoë to her door on the second floor of the unit. It was too dark to make out the number, but he memorized the location. He’d come back during the day to establish her full address. As Zoë let herself in, he turned around, smiling. He knew where Zoë Sutton lived. He had his first data point. Now he could begin planning her recapture.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The following morning, Greening was deskbound while Ogawa attended the Jane Doe autopsy. He developed his background check on Zoë Sutton. The databases told an interesting story about her, throwing up a number of red flags he wasn’t expecting to find, namely a number of misdemeanor charges. In the past fifteen months, she’d picked up two disturbing-the-peace charges in San Francisco and a misdemeanor battery charge in Oakland. Reading the police reports, the incidents shared a common thread—Zoë’s temper. She’d gotten into an altercation with someone at a bar or club, which had led to words before turning physical. She pled guilty in all three cases and served her sentence with community service.
The convictions had all happened in a seven-month period. Seemingly, she’d kept her nose clean for the last six months, at least as far as the courts were concerned. However, her name appeared on a number of field interview cards, which had resulted in warnings instead of arrests.
But he didn’t have to wait that long. Forty minutes later, Zoë emerged from the slab-sided building. A man in his thirties, wearing a suit, escorted her down the steps to the sidewalk. Beck guessed he was either a plainclothes cop or a district attorney. Zoë and the man were talking, but he was too far away to catch any of the conversation.
A car that appeared to be an unmarked police vehicle drew to a stop in front of them. The man held the door open for Zoë, and she climbed into the back of the car.
Beck started his Honda Pilot and pulled onto Bryant Street behind them. Tailing the unmarked was a trickier proposition than normal. Now that they were into the small hours of the morning, traffic was scarce, giving him little in the way of vehicles to hide behind. All he could do was hang back and hope for the best. He liked to think his cause was helped by driving the ultraordinary Honda. It was practically urban camouflage. He wondered if cops looked for a tail as a matter of course. He imagined they scanned for illegal activities, but he doubted they figured they were being surveilled. He put that down to the arrogance of their position. Police saw themselves as untouchable, even bulletproof. He guessed he’d soon know if his tail had been spotted or not. The cop driving Zoë wouldn’t do the dirty work himself, not with a person of interest in the car. No, it would be called in, and a separate unit would try to pull him over.
The unmarked cut across the city. He mentally crossed off neighborhoods as they passed through them. He was starting to wonder if this was a wild-goose chase when the unmarked slowed and turned into an apartment complex. The security gate eased back as the cop car approached. It was a small complex, maybe less than thirty units, and Beck chose not to follow them inside. Instead, he pulled over, jogged across the street, and stopped in front of the gate just as it closed. He watched the uniformed cop walk Zoë to her door on the second floor of the unit. It was too dark to make out the number, but he memorized the location. He’d come back during the day to establish her full address. As Zoë let herself in, he turned around, smiling. He knew where Zoë Sutton lived. He had his first data point. Now he could begin planning her recapture.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The following morning, Greening was deskbound while Ogawa attended the Jane Doe autopsy. He developed his background check on Zoë Sutton. The databases told an interesting story about her, throwing up a number of red flags he wasn’t expecting to find, namely a number of misdemeanor charges. In the past fifteen months, she’d picked up two disturbing-the-peace charges in San Francisco and a misdemeanor battery charge in Oakland. Reading the police reports, the incidents shared a common thread—Zoë’s temper. She’d gotten into an altercation with someone at a bar or club, which had led to words before turning physical. She pled guilty in all three cases and served her sentence with community service.
The convictions had all happened in a seven-month period. Seemingly, she’d kept her nose clean for the last six months, at least as far as the courts were concerned. However, her name appeared on a number of field interview cards, which had resulted in warnings instead of arrests.
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