Identity Crisis (Sam McRae Mystery 1)

“What is it? Have you heard from Melanie?”

“Yes,” she said. “She called last night.”

I’d begun to think I was about as likely to find Melanie as I was to find the Holy Grail, so she had my full attention. “Where is she?”

“She wouldn’t say exactly, but she sounded strange. I told her you called.”

“And?”

“And nothing, really. All she could talk about was coming to Chicago.”

“What?”

“She said she was in a real bind.” Jenna sounded distraught. “She made me promise not to tell anyone. I kept asking her what it was about, but she wouldn’t say.”

I swore under my breath. “When’s she supposed to get there?”

“She’s leaving this morning by bus. She may have already left.”

“Damn.”

“I should have called you last night, but she asked me not to tell anyone she was coming. She was ... very emphatic about that.” Jenna paused. “Melanie and I go way back. I’d do anything to help her, but I need to know what’s going on.”

It was my turn to hesitate. “I don’t really want to get into the details. You did the right thing calling me.”

“Is she in trouble?”

“Yes. I’m afraid it involves the police.”

“The police? Oh, my God.”

“Did she say what time she was leaving?”

Jenna sighed. “Not the exact time. I know she’s taking Greyhound.”

“OK. I really appreciate your calling. I don’t mean to cut you off, but I should probably check on whether her bus has left.”

“Sure. Wow, I had no idea how serious this was. I can’t believe Melanie committed a crime.”

“Right now, we don’t know that she has,” I said. “But going to Chicago is not her best move.”

After I hung up, I got onto the Internet. Within minutes, I discovered Greyhound had only two buses going to Chicago from Maryland that morning—one from Silver Spring, the other from Annapolis. Both had already left.

Was Melanie running from the law? From the Mob? Chicago wasn’t going to be nearly far enough, in either case. From Chicago, it would be easy to get to Canada. Maybe the plan was to connect with her Canadian friend. But the law had extradition, and the Mob wasn’t going to stop at the border if they wanted her.

Why hadn’t she called me when Jenna told her I was looking for her? The cynical side of my brain kicked in. What if she planned the entire thing? She could have planned to kill Garvey. She could be using stolen money to bankroll her escape.

But that box of files. Why the hell would she kill Garvey, then leave the files in her apartment? Maybe someone was trying to give her away? Or maybe someone was setting her up?

So far, I had plenty of questions. If I were going to get answers, I’d have to find Melanie.

Chapter NINE

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According to the schedules, the buses took circuitous routes through the western Maryland hills, hitting burgs like Frederick and Hagerstown before leaving the state. Around lunchtime, both buses would arrive in Breezewood, Pennsylvania. If I left now and stepped on it, I could beat them there.

I’d been to Breezewood, the “Town of Motels.” Nobody lives there. Its sole reason for being is to cater to interstate travelers, with every roadside restaurant, gas station, and budget motel you can imagine, their stilted signs creating a loud and competitive skyline. There was a cafeteria where the buses stopped.