Shadow Of Pretense (Margot Harris 2)

Margot unfolded the paper, Inside were two wallet-sized pictures of Chrissie, the kind that are usually taken at school. Chrissie might not be Miss Goody Two Shoes, but she did show up on picture day with hair combed, wearing nice clothes.

“I put her Facebook and Instagram pages on there, if you want to see more pictures or just see if she’s posted anything you can use.”

“Thanks. Have you checked them lately?”

“Yeah, nothing. No posts since she left.”

“Is that unusual for her to go a week without posting on social media?”

Randy thought about it for a second. “I don’t pay that much attention but yeah, it kind of is. Not so much Facebook, but she does Instagram a lot. I mean that’s weird for any teenage girl isn’t it?”

“I’d guess most of them.”

“It’s weird for her. Shit, now I’m kind of worried.”

“A lot of relatives on this list, how about her friends?”

“Sorry, other than her loser boyfriend, neither mom nor I really know them. We wouldn’t have known about him if I didn’t see them together hanging out at a place no fifteen-year-old has any business hanging out.”

“You tell her that at the time?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know how many fifteen-year-old girls you’ve been around. They aren’t the best listeners. I should have taken a page from your book and kicked his ass.”

“What stopped you?”

Randy shrugged, “I was by myself. He wasn’t.”

“I need a week upfront,” Margot told him. “If I find her in less than a week, I’ll refund the difference minus expenses.”

Randy handed her a wad of cash.

“I prefer checks or PayPal.”

“Mom doesn’t trust banks and she trusts PayPal even less.”

Margot nodded and took the money.

Chapter 2

Margot started with Chrissie’s mom’s place. She had never worked missing persons when she was a detective, but she did when wearing uniform, and she remembered the best place to look was at home. Sometimes the missing person just came home and because they didn’t know they were missing, they didn’t bother to inform anyone of their return. Especially when the person reporting it is an aunt. It could be Chrissie just doesn’t return her Aunt's calls.

Chrissie’s mom, Jennifer, had a spotty work history. Randy didn’t know if she currently had a job but said she usually worked as a cocktail waitress or barmaid. Among the places she worked was Margot’s old favorite hangout, Lefty’s Bar and Grill. This meant her and Margot should have met, but the name didn’t ring a bell and since she wasn’t the one missing, Randy didn’t give her a picture.

Margot chose nine in the morning as the optimal time to catch her at home. It was early enough a person who worked nights would likely still be home and in bed. Margot would give her a few hours’ sleep; she would get up to see who was at the door. The logic worked for a kid on summer break who probably kept her mom’s same late-night hours. According to Randy, the kid was already living the nightlife even though she was at an age where she shouldn’t be.

Chrissie and Jennifer lived in an aging townhome on the east side of town. Margot lived on the far west side; another couple of blocks farther west and she’d be in the Pacific. This meant a slog across town in morning traffic. The fact it was worse in other places didn’t make Margot feel any better as she sat in the tail end of rush hour traffic.

She kept an eye in the rearview mirror since she feared she might have made some powerful enemies on her last case when she stumbled into a cartel murder while tailing a local crime lord’s wife. He suspected her of infidelity but really she was talking to the F.B.I. Everyone involved except Margot and Mal had ended up dead and she had no reason not to think they might be next.

With this in mind, she took note of the dark blue sedan staying two cars back as she worked her way across town. The blue sedan wasn’t the only car she was keeping an eye on, but as she got farther East, the others turned off the crowded highway while the blue sedan stayed with her, never being closer than two cars and never getting farther away than three. She could only make out silhouettes, but there were at least two people in the car.

Every intersection it stayed with her made it seem more of a threat. Margo dumped her purse out so her gun, along with a can of mace and her telescoping baton, was on the seat beside her within easy reach. She tried to get the license plate, but the car never gave her a direct view. The longer this went on, the more it seemed like intent.

She reminded herself there the driver of the blue sedan could just be heading across town like she was but kept her eyes on it. She got off the main road, picking a street with little traffic. While it was possible the occupants had business on this road, it was unlikely. The blue sedan made the same turn.

Margot considered slowing down and making them pass her, but she pictured the passenger sticking an Uzi out the window and emptying his magazine into her Toyota Prius. Margot sped up instead. The Prius was built for fuel efficiency instead of speed, but it moved well enough the Blue Sedan would have to break the speed limit to keep up.

Margo turned right without using her turn signal and then took the first right and pinned the accelerator to the floor. In her mirror, she could see the blue sedan go through the intersection without matching her turn. Margot took another right and ended up back on the same road she started on. She went back the way she came and picked up the highway going east. At no time did she see the blue sedan. She either lost him or he was never following her in the first place.