else.”
Stolen jewelry?
Everything Hailey knew about unsolved thefts flipped through her mind like entries in a rolodex.
She grabbed her coffee and stood. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Phelps.”
* * *
Eric ran his hands down his face. Deirdre’s phone records were a lesson in too much money, too little responsibility. Her credit card statements were nauseating.
“Anything?”
Eric looked up. Jonah was beside his desk with the assessing look he got when he was testing you.
Eric said, “Phone records were a bust. I can’t help wondering about this stash Farrell is after, and what he wants from Kerry. If he had a hand in the original theft, then it could be an old score he never claimed. That would mean it’s been sitting for years, which is unlikely, but not impossible.”
Hailey was on the far side of the office at the coffee pot, pouring herself a cup. She had her thinking face on. He hoped she didn’t burn herself by accident.
Eric continued, “That also means we now have more accomplices to identify. Known associates, family and extended family members he might still have contact with.”
“Course of action?”
“Go back further. Look into possible associates and any heists they might have done. Scores which could’ve pulled in a haul big enough that he still wants to get his hands on it, even years later. Unsolved robberies, that kind of thing. Though, why he’s doing this now bothers me. And what it has to do with Hailey and her daughter.”
“So figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” Hailey strode over, confident and graceful on her heels.
Eric shook his head. “Just talking about the case. How are you doing?”
Hailey sat, her face lacking expression. “I’m fine.”
Sure she was. Hailey might like to act tough, but he’d seen her checking her phone every thirty seconds since they left the police station, and typing furiously on it several times—replying to texts from Kerry, probably.
Jonah rapped his knuckles on the edge of the table. “Let me know what you come up with.”
Eric glanced at the window. The twilight sky was nearly black from the low clouds and the steady patter of rain. “It’s looking bad out there.”
“I guess.” Hailey squinted at the darkness outside. “Maybe Charles was right about flooding. I hope not. It won’t make catching Farrell any easier.”
“Have you worked a flood before?”
Hailey shook her head. “The last time there was a bad flood I was in junior high. The whole town was evacuated. Our house didn’t get damaged, because it’s on the top of a hill, and my dad decided it should be a safe zone.”
“Like a place for evacuees to go?”
She nodded, her eyes distant. “My mom was up for two days straight making coffee, getting more blankets and cooking for everyone. She passed away six months later. She had cancer.”
Eric winced. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“It was a long time ago.”
Hailey turned to her work, so Eric did the same. Sitting there wasn’t going to accomplish much. Not if he didn’t look at the big picture, the efforts of the entire team.
The clock was ticking on their escapee. Days would soon turn into weeks, and the trail had been almost cold before Hailey discovered the Deirdre Phelps angle. He couldn’t deny she had a knack for this. But now the case had cracked open, and what had come out made about as much sense as Hailey’s pineapple on her pizza.
If this went on much longer, the likelihood of Farrell seriously hurting someone in pursuit of what he wanted would increase. They couldn’t risk losing Farrell forever. US marshals didn’t let that happen.
The team had been given a free pass with the abduction attempt on Kerry, but the longer Farrell was free, the more likely it was that he would try again—or turn his attention elsewhere. Another victim might not be as clearheaded as Kerry.
Eric felt a surge in his chest—care that he wasn’t sure was about Kerry or Hailey. He wanted to protect them both. If Farrell was targeting Hailey’s daughter, then Eric was going to do everything in his power to help them stay safe until the escapee was back behind bars.
“Are you okay?”
Eric looked up. Hailey’s head was tilted to the side and her brow was crinkled. He shrugged one shoulder. “I was just thinking.”
“Must have been pretty deep. Who knew?”
Eric felt his mouth expand into a smile. She had a whole lot to learn if she thought he was just another federal agent, all brawn and no brains. He tapped his mouse and a picture came up. “Bingo.”
Hailey got up and came over. “What do you have?”
“A picture of Farrell from his high school yearbook—not that he ever graduated. I figured it might come in handy for finding who his friends were and seeing what he was up to.”
Hailey gasped.
“What?”
“That’s...” She sputtered. “Farrell is...”
“Hailey. What?”
“He was one of Charles’s friends.”
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