She’s napping in the afternoon—something she does more and more frequently since she began mindcasting so often—when the buzz of her phone wakes her. It’s a text from private eye Ian Slate, who she called in the morning to ask him to trace Antoine’s license plate. Are you available to zoom now?
Yes, she texts back. When the link arrives a moment later, she’s settled into her Zooming corner.
He looks as well put-together as the last time she saw him, with his miniature teacup poised at the tip of his fingers. “Some bad news,” he starts off. “The license plate is fake. Not a valid registration. We can’t use it to find the owner of the car.”
“Aren’t you required to have a valid registration?” she says.
“Sure. But it’s a misdemeanor. It’s better to be ticketed for that than to take the chance of being traced while you’re committing a much bigger crime. If he’s smart, he’s a cautious driver who doesn’t give traffic cops any reason to check on his plate. If he gets caught breaking other laws, the fact that he has a fake plate will be the least of his worries.”
“I see. Thanks for checking.” She wonders why he didn’t just text this update.
“There’s more.” He gives a crooked smile, and she suspects he’s enjoying playing with her like this.
“Please, do tell,” she plays along.
“After calling a few of my contacts in law enforcement, I managed to find one who knew someone matching Antoine’s description.”
When Rebecca spoke with Ian earlier, she had opened up about the case to him. There seemed no reason to keep it secret that she was trying to learn what happened to Ethan. When she reached the part where she speculated the boy might’ve been thieving for a scumbag named Antoine, Ian had asked for a physical description of the man, along with information about his criminal activities and methods. He didn’t explain at the time how that might help.
“Oh my god. Were you able to get his name and address?”
“His name is Alex Bosko, and he was arrested about seven months ago for possession of stolen property, fencing stolen property, corrupting minors, and related crimes.”
Seven months. Meaning he was still a free man at the time Ethan went missing. Still her number one suspect. “Can I go talk to him in jail?” And try to wrench the truth out of him.
“I’m afraid he’s not there. He made bail, and then he disappeared. They can’t find him.”
A shiver runs through her at the thought that he might’ve taken Ethan with him. “What’s his address?”
“You won’t find him there.”
“I understand, but it would help to know how close he might’ve lived to Ethan. I mean, I don’t really have proof this is the guy Ethan was working with.” But mostly I need the address so I can jump back in time and spy on him, she doesn’t say.
“Sorry, I didn’t think you would need it at this point,” Ian says. “I’ll get back to you with that information.”
“Thank you. You’re awesome. You’ve been so helpful.”
He shifts his gaze to something behind her. “Nice looking family. Any relation?”
Before she can answer, he has disconnected the Zoom. So much for her fake family.