into the elevator, then out of the building. Other security staff members, as well as uniformed members of the Blue Haven PD, were on patrol outside the large plaza building, in the parking lot and around the busy street outside, and the school wasn’t far away. Alan figured the kids would get back just fine.
Besides, the greatest threat to Eli, as far as Alan could tell, remained upstairs in the council meeting.
He needed to return there soon to coordinate with Dodd—but no one would pay attention to him if he took a short break now. He liked to check in with his real employer, the Covert Investigations Unit of the ID Division, as frequently as possible. He’d done so this morning, before reporting to work. He often contacted them in the middle of his workday to make sure there wasn’t anything extra they wanted him to do while the city council members were most easily accessible.
After the two boys reached the next block, Alan strode down the wide stone steps, ignoring the other people coming and going. He slipped away from the plaza and around the corner into the parking lot shared by all Blue Haven government buildings. There, he got into the driver’s seat of the car he was using here, a somewhat beat-up gray SUV, and locked the doors. Then he pulled his mobile phone from his pocket.
He had a text from his boss, Judge Treena Avalon. It was brief and to the point. He was to call her ASAP. It was important. She’d sent it about an hour ago.
Wasting no time, Alan pushed the button for the judge’s cell phone. She answered almost immediately.
“Alan. Just checking in. Everything okay there?” Her voice was strong and intimidating. That was who Judge Treena was: demanding, no-nonsense, intense. But she was also kind, especially to the subjects taken on by the ID Division. She cared about both them and her staff.
“Fine,” he said, “but no news yet.”
“Then you haven’t run into Kelly Ladd?”
Should he protect the woman he had met, who might be this Kelly, and after the same evidence he sought?
If he told Judge Treena he had not only seen her but talked to her several times, the judge might tell him to get her alone and order her back to the life the ID Division had created for her, where she had promised to stay.
On the other hand, she might actually be an asset to him here, if they could work together—and if she helped him rather than hindered him.
That was his preference. The fact that she was one gorgeous woman he would have liked, under other circumstances, to get to know better was irrelevant.
It had to be.
If things changed and Kelly did get in his way, he could notify the judge that he had indeed located her.
But for now...
“Not as far as I know,” he lied. “But I’m keeping my eyes open for her. And I’m hoping to gather some of that hard evidence we’re looking for here soon.”
Kelly felt exhausted that afternoon. She realized it was probably more related to adrenaline and stress than actually having worked harder than she had previously in the few days since she had begun as a server here. But whatever the cause, she couldn’t allow it to show now that she’d returned to the busy-as-usual restaurant. After seeing Eli, the last thing she wanted was to irritate Ella and jeopardize the job that was her cover.
The job that had let her get near and observe her nephew, and had the potential of allowing her continued access to him, at least sporadically. She hoped.
The job that got her into Stan’s presence. Now she just had to figure out the best way she, as Kelly, could bring him down.
And she couldn’t help worrying about Alan and his involvement with the city council—and more—and his potential interference. But she would figure out a way to deal with him.
She had to.
At least time seemed to move swiftly as she wove her way through the tables assigned to her for the rest of the day, the rear corner that managed to stay quite occupied despite being farthest from the door.
As she worked, she allowed her concentration to ebb just a little when she felt she could. Her mind kept analyzing what had happened earlier.
Yes, she had seen the one person she’d really hoped to: Eli. She had also seen Stan, and the fact that he, like Eli, hadn’t recognized her was a really good thing.
But one person she’d been watching for hadn’t appeared. She still hadn’t seen Stan’s assistant, Paul Tirths. Was Paul still around?
When Andi had disappeared and Kelly’s alter ego, Shereen, had sought help and answers from anyone who knew Andi or her husband or both, Paul had been the one who’d hinted strongly that Stan had killed his wife and hidden her body. Later, he’d denied having said anything that could have led Kelly to draw such a heinous conclusion, especially about his boss—but she had believed he was lying then, not previously.
He had said nothing concrete. Nothing that could prove what had happened to Andi or lead to her body.
Then there had been the threats to Shereen for daring to question Stan’s involvement in Andi’s disappearance: speeding cars that nearly hit her while she was crossing city streets at night, even the street outside her apartment. No injury, fortunately, but only at times there were no witnesses, so no license plates, no vehicle identification. No perpetrator caught.
The last straw for Shereen was the night a bullet was fired through her bedroom window. No one witnessed the shooter, and although the type of gun was identified from the bullet, its owner wasn’t.
Was that because local cops were protecting Stan?
And Shereen could provide no evidence to the authorities about Andi, or about the fact that she, too, was being targeted, except for that one bullet. All she could supply were claims...and questions.
So, ultimately, she had fled.
But now wasn’t the time to focus on any of that. Kelly had to continue to do an excellent job as a restaurant server—and she would.
Some of her latest customers appeared to be women out for the afternoon, maybe enjoying time away from their kids in school. Another group of women were all clad in suits and dresses and appeared to be holding some kind of business meeting. A few guys in exercise outfits, possibly bicyclists, came in to take a break, and then there were several couples who could have been on midafternoon dates.
Speculating on who they were and their backgrounds helped to keep Kelly going. She attempted to recognize anyone, especially people who might recognize her. Fortunately, that didn’t appear to be an issue.
Her fellow server Tobi got into her standard quips and observations about their customers as they passed each other while turning orders in to the kitchen and picking up food to deliver. She clearly enjoyed speculating about supposed backgrounds and motives to come here, and her chatter helped keep Kelly smiling, efficient—and awake.
Lang Elgin, one of the few male servers, joined in now and then as he passed with food in his hands. Lang was a midforties guy whose paunch beneath his white shirt and dark pants suggested he enjoyed nibbling
