Thursday evening, Nick and I camped out in a parking lot across the street from the Addison Chili’s a half hour before Morgan Walker and Hana Kim, posing as Kim Huang, were to have their date. While we were far enough away that nobody could have easily identified me from the restaurant, I’d nonetheless tucked my hair up under a Texas Rangers baseball cap and donned dark sunglasses to disguise myself. An agent could never be too careful. The last thing I wanted to do was blow this case after all the work I’d put into it over the past few days.
As we waited, we listened to KCSH. As usual, pre-recorded messages by Flo Cash played in the commercial breaks built into the syndicated show now playing.
“Are you in the mood for some delicioso Mexican food?” Flo asked over the airwaves. “Be sure to try the Guadalajara Grill in Garland. Children under ten eat free on Thursdays. Bring the entire family! Guadalajara Grill is conveniently located on Forest Lane near Shiloh Road.”
I cast a glance at Nick. “If that’s not a commercial, I’ll eat my hat.”
He cut a look back at me. “I just might eat your hat regardless. It’s dinnertime and I’m starved.”
“I thought you might say that.” I reached into the bag I’d brought with me, pulled out a plastic container, and handed it to him.
He pulled off the lid. “Fried-baloney sandwiches? I knew there was a reason I loved you.”
“If that’s the reason, I feel obligated to tell you that any woman with a frying pan could do the same.”
“Maybe.” He took an enormous bite of one of the sandwiches. “But I’d only want to eat yours.”
Flo continued to promote businesses on KCSH: “Folks, the heat of the summer will be here before you know it. Why not make sure your air conditioner gives a peak performance by having it serviced? Call Milligan’s Heating and Air today to schedule a maintenance appointment.” She followed her words with their phone number.
“You still thinking over Lu’s offer?” I asked. “You gonna take her job?”
“What do you think I should do?”
Admittedly, I had mixed feelings about it myself. If Nick become the director of Criminal Investigations, he and I couldn’t work cases together anymore. I’d miss that. On the other hand, as he’d pointed out previously, the director job would have more regular hours. That could be a big plus if the two of us settled down and had children, which was a real possibility. I raised my shoulders. “Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe talk to Eddie about it. Find out where he stands. That might help you make up your mind.”
“Good idea. I will.”
A dark car pulled into the Chili’s parking lot. I raised my field glasses to my eyes to take a closer look. Sure enough, it was the rental Mercedes with Morgan Walker behind the wheel. “The catfisher has arrived.”
The car made an immediate left turn and skirted the perimeter of the lot before stopping in a remote spot at the back of the lot. A few seconds later, Morgan Walker climbed out of the vehicle. He wore the same clothing he’d worn on our date.
Nick wiped his hands on a napkin, then reached for the binoculars. “I want to take a look.” He took the glasses from me and held them to his face. “Meh. He doesn’t look like anything special to me.”
“It’s not so much his looks that draw women in,” I told Nick. “It’s his personality. He’s a good listener and has impeccable manners. He’s gentlemanly and charming.”
Nick grunted.
“You’re charming, too,” I said, stroking his bruised ego. “Just in a totally different way.” I squinted, watching Walker, well, walk. “What do you think?” I asked Nick. “Does he have the confident swagger of a black belt?”
Nick turned a dial, adjusting the binoculars. “Hard to say. He’s just putting one foot in front of the other like everyone else.”
As we watched, Josh and Kira arrived, too. Josh would be providing on-site backup should anything go terribly awry. He’d also likely be busting my budget on this investigation, but if the tight-asses in Internal Accounting wouldn’t cover the cost, I’d take the hit. Josh had saved my ass with his tech skills on more than on occasion and had helped a lot in this case. Surely I’d need him in the future, too. A dinner bill was a small price to pay for the IT support.
Just after Josh and Kira headed into the restaurant, Hana’s undercover vehicle pulled into the lot.
I pointed, keeping my hand below dash level where it couldn’t be seen outside the car. “Elvis is in the parking lot.”
She took a spot much closer to the doors than Walker had.
Nick and I took turns watching through the binoculars as the two met in the foyer, exchanged pleasant smiles and handshakes, and approached the hostess stand. The young woman seated them at a booth along the front window where we could easily keep an eye on them. Good.
Over the next half hour, the two smiled and laughed and chatted. Heck, they even shared a dessert.
“Looks like they’re having a good time,” Nick noted, peering through the binoculars.
Oddly, I found myself feeling jealous that their date seemed to have gone better than mine. The jokes’s on Morgan, I told myself. Hana isn’t interested in men.
“Wait,” Nick said. “He just gave her something. What is that?”
I took the glasses from Nick and spied through them. “A vintage harmonica.”
Nick’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why in the world would he give her that?”
“Hana let me draft her profile,” I replied. “She said to surprise her, so I did.”
“If I ever ask you to surprise me,” Nick said, “forget the harmonica. Surprise me with sexy lingerie. Or a rib eye. Or Cowboys tickets.”
Inside the restaurant, Hana nodded and grinned and appeared to express sincere appreciation for what I’m sure she considered the most ridiculous gift ever.
Josh and Kira finished their meal first and returned to his car in the parking lot. I sent him a text. Nick and I are across the street. We’ll follow Walker when he leaves.
A few seconds later, a reply came back. Good luck. Josh started his car and he and Kira drove off.
When Morgan and Hana exited the building a minute or two later, Morgan gestured in the direction of the Mercedes. I grabbed the field glasses from Nick and watched as Morgan led Hana over to the car, reached inside, and, as he’d done with me the night before, handed her a business card. The task completed, he walked her back to her car.
“Think he’ll try to kiss her?” Nick asked, leaning in next to me and squinting.
“No, but if he did she’d break his nose.”
I was wrong on both counts. Morgan did kiss Hana, though it was a modest peck on her cheek, and Hana did not break his nose. Why did he kiss her cheek and not mine? Maybe I’d lost whatever touch I used to have with men. Maybe I’d used it all up on Nick.
As Morgan headed back to his car, Nick started the engine, preparing to follow him. Once the Mercedes pulled out of the lot, we eased onto the road behind it. Given that Hana’s date tonight started an hour earlier than mine had the night before, the night was still light and our car clearly identifiable.
“You better hang back,” I told Nick. “We don’t want him to realize he’s being tailed.”
Nick took his foot off the gas and slowed down a little, letting a few cars pass us as we headed east on Belt Line Road.
When he reached I-35, Morgan turned to the north like he had before, heading away from Dallas rather than toward the city.
“This is the same way he went last night,” I said.
“You think he’s driving all the way to Oklahoma?”
“It’s possible. Or he could be headed to Colorado.” Though if the latter was true, at some point he’d need to veer farther west. “Of course he could be going somewhere else entirely.”
Without knowing the guy’s true identity, I had no way of knowing where he actually lived. With any luck, I’d soon hear back from Hertz and learn the real name of Jack Smirnoff/Morgan Walker.
We followed him for several miles. As we left the Lewisville city limits and drove over the lake, traffic thinned considerably. We’d reached the outer suburbs and would soon be in Denton, a much smaller neighboring city with a unique personality. Denton was home to the University of North Texas, which was known for its music program and had produced such greats as Roy Orbison, Don Henley, and, more recently, Norah Jones. The city served as the northern point of what some called the Golden Triangle, a region that was also defined by Fort Worth and Dallas.
“Uh-oh,” Nick said. “He moved into the left lane and he’s slowing, for no apparent reason.”
“You think he realized we’re following him?”
“Hell if I know.”
If Morgan had become suspicious and Nick slowed, too, it would only confirm that we were trailing him. Nick had no choice but to maintain his speed. As we came up on the Mercedes I pulled my cell phone from my purse and held it up to my ear to further obscure my face from view. With the hat, sunglasses, and phone, surely he wouldn’t be able to identify me as Sara Galloway, right?
Nick gave the car a little more gas so we’d pass at a good clip. “Shit,” he hissed through barely open lips. “He’s speeding up now. I think he’s trying to get a better look into our car.”
Dammit! Had he recognized me? “Take the exit!” I cried. “Now!”
Nick veered off just as Morgan pulled up next to our car. With any luck, Morgan would assume we’d left the highway to get gas or because we lived out here in the country. If we’d blown this case, I’d never forgive myself for letting Leslie, Nataya, and Julia down.
The Mercedes continued up the freeway as we slowed on the frontage road. Nick hooked a turn under the interstate and headed back to Dallas.
I looked back over my shoulder, but the Mercedes had driven out of sight. Childish as it might be, I crossed my fingers and hoped Morgan Walker hadn’t realized it was me in the truck.
I pondered our next move. “Maybe Hertz has a tracking system in the car. You know, LoJack or OnStar or some type of gizmo like that.” It would make sense for rental cars to come pre-equipped with such a system, especially upmarket cars like a Mercedes. The rental company stood to lose big if one of their expensive luxury cars was stolen. “Think I should ask their legal department when they call back? See if they’ll tell me where the car is?”
“Not much point in that. They’ll make you jump through flaming hoops before they’ll give you the information.”
He was probably right. Besides, such a request would be beyond the terms of the court order.
“Borrow a tracker from Josh,” Nick suggested. “I can put in on the Mercedes Tuesday night while you’re on your date.”
Nick and I had used a GPS tracking device in an earlier case, putting it on a target’s car so we could determine his whereabouts. It had led to us discovering some very damning information.
“Good idea,” I told him.
He reached over and toyed with a lock of my hair, running a finger up and down my neck as he slid me a sexy smile. “I’m full of good ideas. Want to hear another one?”