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“A Pocket Full of Rye.”
“A what?”
“A Pocket Full of Rye. It’s a Miss Marple mystery by Agatha Christie. I should have remembered!” She thumped her forehead with the palm of her hand. Ouch.
Shaking off the discomfort, she continued, “We purchased duplicate copies of the book and used it to decipher the codes. Silly, I know, but when we were that age it was exciting to think we could communicate in ways others couldn’t understand. I hadn’t thought about that in years.”
“We need to find a copy of that book. I’ve seen several bookstores on the island.” Steve started Googling them on his phone.
“It would be a miracle if you found the edition we used. We bought them while we were still in middle school. Unless you’re lucky enough to find a copy in a thrift store somewhere, we need my book.”
“You still have it?” Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Yes.” There were few things she’d hung on to from her childhood because they transferred so often, it hurt to toss cherished items with each move. But one box went with her wherever she moved, even now. She kept her most personal, private mementos in it. “It’s in a box at my place in St. Augustine. I need to get it.”
“You’re right, Josie, but you’re not going.”
“Excuse me?” Josie’s eyebrows rose in response to Steve’s statement. She hadn’t come to him to be given orders.
“It’s not safe,” Steve stated, bluntly. “Someone could be waiting for you to return.”
Steve’s argument made sense. Josie slumped back into the cushion.
“Where’s the key to your place?” Steve asked.
Josie froze then cocked her head. “I’m not sure,” she answered, thoughtfully. She’d stuffed her keys, identification and what little cash she had left in the pockets of her jeans before tossing the purse in a dumpster. She hadn’t given them any thought since she’d crawled onto the sandy beach.
Josie bit her lips against the urge to moan as she pushed to her feet. “If my keys aren’t in my jeans, I’ve lost them.”
Steve steadied her. “Gib took them. They needed washing.”
“No doubt. Hopefully, my ID is still in them, too,” she added.
A quick call from Steve to Gib confirmed that Gib had found her meager personal possessions. Steve left to retrieve the items and to give the keys to Troy, who’d been tapped to retrieve the book. She gave Steve the location of the box and prayed it hadn’t been destroyed or hadn’t disappeared along with her attacker.
After Steve left, she made her way from the living room to the small home office at the front of the unit. Gib had insisted that she make herself at home. He’d assured her that neither Cat nor Colt would object and she was free to use any computer in the house.
An office doubling as a guest room, Josie figured, when she recognized the Murphy bed attached to the opposite wall. Josie settled herself at the desk and booted up the computer.
Working was better than waiting. She would be climbing the walls if she didn’t have a project to keep her busy while the book was being retrieved. She brought up Erica’s email and then spent the next hour staring at numbers as if by sheer will they would magically transform into words.
***
Steve met Troy at the base of the stairs. While Don and Kevin had been checking the security system at the house and garden center next door, Troy had been patrolling the property. Steve would get Kevin to relieve Troy while Don finished whatever needed to be done to the property next door.
But what should have been a short hand-off turned into a heated discussion.
“I’m doing this for you,” Troy snapped, taking the keys along with Josie’s address.
“What’s your problem?” Steve outranked Troy but while off base and off duty, they treated each other as equals.
“My problem is that woman upstairs. Popping back into your life when she conveniently needs you. I don’t like seeing my friends being used.” Troy shoved the items he’d been given into the pocket of his jacket. He started to say more but then turned in military precision toward his truck. His silence said more than any words.
“She needs help,” Steve shouted after him. Troy just waved him off and got behind the wheel. The argument had been intended as a wake-up call. Every member of the team knew that Steve wanted Josie back but he didn’t have to be told that you don’t always get what you want.
Steve watched the dust of the crushed shell lot settle, wishing his heart could do the same. Troy had a point but it didn’t matter if Josie had come to him or he had found her. Just as the dust settled, they would settle things between them once he was sure Josie was safe.
He texted Kevin then waited at the foot of the stairs. The shrubs next to the driveway parted a minute later and both Don and Kevin jumped the short fence.
“What’s up?” Don asked, looking toward the spot where Troy had parked. “Where’s Troy?”
“He’s left to get the book. It’ll take between ten and twelve hours round trip. Can you two split the watch?”
Before they answered, Rick, who had been at the station, arrived bearing pizzas. From the look on Rick’s face, Steve knew he was delivering more than just a late lunch.
“You’ve found something.” Steve said to him, flatly.
“Yeah. Let’s go upstairs,” Rick suggested. Kevin snatched a couple of slices before he slipped around the side of the building. He’d be on sentry until Don relieved him.
“I’ve been in touch with Detective Corello,” Rick told him when they reached the kitchen. “He’s the Tallahassee detective who helped out with the Montgomery issue this past summer.”
“I remember the name,” Steve said.
“It doesn’t look good for Josie’s friend, I’m afraid,” he told Steve in a voice that wouldn’t carry. “Do you want her involved in this conversation or do you want to keep her out of it?”
Steve didn’t have to think. Josie trusted him with this. That was one thing he couldn’t afford to lose—her trust. “I’ll get her,” he said.
The minute Steve stepped into the small office, Josie was on her feet. It wasn’t easy to watch. She grimaced at the sudden movement but didn’t complain. The tough Josie was back.
“What’s wrong?” Josie asked.
“Rick’s here,” he told her. “He has some information on Erica.” She didn’t wait to hear if Steve had anything else to say. He sidestepped to let her through the door. She was a woman on a mission.
Rick and Don had grabbed some paper plates and set out the pizza boxes on the living room coffee table. Rick was holding a slice of pizza in his hand, Fold Hold style, when Josie flew into the room. He’d just taken a bite, not anticipating her speedy arrival. Steve gave Josie points for remaining silent while Rick chewed. She’d surprised him by not peppering Rick with questions before he was capable of answering.
“Well?’ she asked as soon as Rick swallowed.
“We have a good contact with the Tallahassee PD,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “After I contacted him, he checked on your friend. Normally, he’d dispatch a black and white to do a welfare check but, as a favor, he made the drive himself. He didn’t get an answer at the door so he looked through one of the windows. The place had been tossed. That gave him probable cause to enter.”
“Did he find her?” Josie asked, while Rick took another bite. This one small enough he could still talk and chew.
Steve put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, letting her know she wasn’t alone.
“No,” Rick reported. “The place was empty. Corello said there were no signs of a struggle but the place was a wreck. He’s waiting for forensics to get back to him.”
“There’s another thing. Possibly more significant,” Rick continued, setting his plate on the table.
“More significant than a missing person’s place being torn apart?” Steve asked, his hand tightening on Josie’s shoulder. He immediately lightened the grip when Josie dropped her shoulder in obvious discomfort.
“Unfortunately, yes. Corello found the record of the call Josie made to the Tallahassee PD. However, there was no outgoing call to the St. Johns County Sheriff’s office for a follow up inquiry with Josie. Someone knew about the call. Josie’s name was flagged. We don’t know by whom.”
“Then Josie’s right,” Steve confirmed. He removed his hand from her shoulder tightening it into a fist. Anger and fear electrified him from head to toe. “Somebody does have access to information funneling through law enforcement channels.”
“That’s what it looks like. Corello and I will be communicating via our private cells for the time being. Nothing between the two of us will be going through regular channels,” Rick assured them. “Due to the break-in and search of Ms. Stratocas’s apartment, however, he requested a check of her recent credit card activity and telephone calls.”
“Who the hell can he trust?” Don asked.
“Not requesting that information would be even more suspicious once the break-in was reported and there was no way to avoid that. Corello has a guy in his IT unit he’s confident can help and will supply him with information under the table.”
“I still don’t like it. All this activity is bound to sound alarms. Call Troy,” Steve said turning to Don. “Let him know we’ve confirmed a leak. Tell him to be careful.”
“Why does Troy need to be careful? Do I even want to know?” Rick asked.
“Nothing illegal. He went to retrieve the book from Josie’s place. She remembered the key.”
“Well?” Rick prompted him.
“An Agatha Christie mystery,” Josie told him. “We used it to send coded messages to each other when we were kids.”
“Troy has Josie’s key and permission to enter,” Steve explained to Rick.
“While you have him on the line,” Rick told Don, “tell him not to disturb anything. No one has reported the attack on Josie yet. Technically, her place is still a crime scene.”