51

She needed her list of properties owned by Melissa’s LLC, but those were at the task force office and she couldn’t go back there. She pondered for a split-second calling Nolan but banished that from her mind right away. This was her fight, not his, and she’d dragged him into it far enough already. She was grateful he’d had the strength of character to turn her down and that nothing further had gone on between them. No matter what happened the rest of that day, any idea of a relationship they could have possibly had was effectively ended, for good.

She wasn’t sorry about that.

All that mattered was David Spencer and Shane Reese. Everything else was background noise.

She’d have to drive to each spot, stake it out, and then move on to the next one. But she’d go in reverse order. Maybe she’d get lucky, and he was still at the last drop-off point. But in the time it had taken for Ethan to write down the list and bring it to her, he might have moved four times. She had a feeling in her gut these addresses were safe places to him, though. He’d be at one of them.

What she needed at the moment was a different car. David had surveilled her as much as she had surveilled him. He’d know her Ford from a mile away. And Reese’s personal car, whose spare key hung on her ring.

Keys to each other’s houses, keys to each other’s cars. How had I not realized what was happening between us? she thought bitterly, but she pushed those feelings aside. It was time to go to work.

Stealing a car wouldn’t be too hard, especially since she already knew of one that was going to be sitting idle all day and not missed for a long time.

She headed back toward her neighborhood.

Waving to her as she pulled up, the kid at the gate raised the wooden plank, allowing her into her gated community. He was a sweet young kid who loved wearing his security guard uniform and probably dreamed of being a cop like Lauren.

If you ever do become a police officer, don’t be like me, Lauren thought as she gave him her fake smile. Because everything you do catches up with you eventually.

Lauren parked her car at the very end of her street. She wanted to, but she wasn’t about to go back to her house for her spare gun and more supplies. For all she knew, Kencil had a car sitting on it while they typed a search warrant. She’d have to go into stealth mode. She slipped into the last house on the left’s concrete patio and padded over to the hedge that separated the yard from the one next to it. Thankfully, most of her neighbors were at work, and the kids were still in school. Although, from the looks of the angry sky, they might be getting one last snow day coming.

The backyards in her neighborhood were empty and depressing this time of year. No one had been able to plant flowers yet because of the crazy weather, so only a few patches of purple crocuses poked through the ground here and there. All the lawn furniture was still packed away in her neighbors’ garages; pools were covered.

She had to hop a small four-foot fence to get into Dayla’s backyard. The ground had gone from muddy back to hard again with the previous night’s frost, so her boots made a whumping sound when she landed.

Dayla’s backyard consisted of an elaborate in-ground pool, complete with waterfall and hot tub. It was all covered over now in a thick plastic tarp. Black, brackish water had collected on top of the pool cover. She made her way around the kidney-shaped pool to the driveway.

Dayla had sent her a text the previous night saying she and her husband had a three-night function at a Las Vegas casino, and she’d get back as soon as she could. Her husband was a well-known plastic surgeon and was always going to medical conferences. Dayla only went with him if the hotel had a casino attached to it.

Dayla’s dark blue Cadillac Escalade was big, but it wasn’t flashy. It definitely did not resemble the tricked out monstrosity Violanti had acquired, even though it was the same make and model. Her husband’s white Jaguar was much more noticeable. Both were parked one after the other in the long driveway. Thankfully Dayla’s SUV was parked behind the Jag, so Lauren wouldn’t have to move it.

Lauren didn’t have a key to Dayla’s Escalade, but she knew where she kept a spare hidden. She walked over to the side door and felt around under the awning. A bunch of keys fell into her palm, fastened together with a Gucci keychain.

Lauren went over to the SUV, hit the fob, and the door opened. Dayla hated keyless entry and made her husband special order her car without it. One morning she’d started her last car, ran inside to grab something, and hopped back in without realizing she’d left the keys on the hall table. She got all the way to her gym without keys and couldn’t figure out why the car was bonging at her the whole way. That was the last of keyless entry for Dayla.

Lauren put the SUV in reverse and backed out of the driveway, looking for a surveillance car. She didn’t see one, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

The kid at the gate wasn’t as interested in the cars leaving as he was the ones trying to get in, so Lauren drove right through. He’d copy down the plate, as he was now required to do since the great Joe Wheeler stalking incident that had taken place and gotten a couple of lazy guards fired.

By the time Dayla’s Escalade was discovered missing, that would be the least of her worries.

She pulled the little white pieces of notebook paper out of her pocket and fanned them on the seat next to her. She’d go in order of the rides he took. Knowing David, he was likely to leave a vehicle somewhere and double back. The first address was close to David’s office in the Ward; an abandoned warehouse for a defunct trucking company. She headed south on Delaware Avenue.

On the radio a meteorologist was announcing a travel advisory for all of Erie and Niagara Counties. “That polar vortex we’ve been talking about is sending an unusually cold air mass our way, bringing ice and snow with it. This is no April Fool’s joke, folks. We’re looking at six to eight inches of accumulation starting just after the evening commute. So if you can convince your boss to let you out early, go home and break out the shovels. It’s going to be a bitter one, with temperatures dropping into the—”

She hit the channel button. A Metallica song popped on. Fuck the weather and fuck the snow, she thought, turning up the volume and letting the music thunder over her. I’m coming for you, David.