“Precaution. I’ve had to call in some favors, and one of the people I spoke to yesterday has been an outspoken supporter of Lawson. I don’t know how much of my conversation they overheard.”
“Well that makes me feel safe.”
She nods. “Open your duffle.” Cara crosses the small room and closes the curtains.
After setting it down on the bed, I do as she instructs. Inside are the clothes she asked for, my pictures of Penny and Claire—both with age progression—and the cash she put in there earlier. I look at her in confusion, wondering what I’m missing.
“Hidden inside the fold of your pants is a piece. Only fire if you feel you’re in imminent danger. If you get arrested, your one phone call is to me and only me, and you don’t say anything to anyone. Understand?”
“Yes.” The feel of the cool metal as it touches my fingertips brings me an odd sense of calm. Even when I wasn’t on duty or deployed, I always had an accessible weapon.
“Here are the lists that Marley sent, along with detailed maps. Each red dot is an Amy Jones. It’s either her maiden or married name. The records Marley was able to get a hold of didn’t break it down for her. You’re going to go door-to-door and introduce yourself as Riggs. If a woman answers, ask if she’s Amy Jones, you’ll know right off if it’s Penny as she’ll be able to tell it’s you. If it’s a man, show him the picture of Penny and ask if he’s seen her.
“If you do encounter Penny, don’t panic. She’s liable to freak out. Give her the address to this place and ask her to meet you and call me straight away.”
“Easier said than done, but I understand.” I don’t know how I’m not going to panic if I see Penny. I’ll be in full freak out mode whether I intend to be or not.
“When you’re out, never take the same route back home. You need to work under the impression that someone is following you. You have enough money to eat three meals, buy extra clothes if you need to, and for your transportation. The room is covered.
“Now, I’m heading north to cover the New England area. We will check in each night at eight p.m. If I don’t hear from you, I’m going to assume you’ve been compromised. If that’s the case, buy a new phone and call me, so that your call cannot be traced in any way. Memorize my number.”
“And what if I don’t hear from you?”
Cara looks at me for a minute before sighing. “You will, but if you don’t head back to Coronado and wait for Riggs to return to the Clarke’s. He knows what’s going on and will take over for me.”
“Okay.” Suddenly I’m not so sure I like this. I’d like to go back to sitting on Evan’s deck, watching the shipyard across the Sound.
“McCoy, everything is going to be fine. We don’t know what Frannie is capable of so we need to move as if she’s out there. We also don’t know who Lawson has working for him on the outside.”
“Hughes, how is it that you’re able to work on this case?”
“When you were getting reacquainted with your bike, I filed a kidnapping report with the Bureau and asked to be assigned. The message Penny wrote on the picture, and the fact that her credit hasn’t been used since before you died, was enough to get a case open. By next week, all Federal buildings will have Penny’s face hanging in them.”
“What if she runs?” I ask, choking back a sob.
“We’ll be there to catch her.”
I want to pull her into a hug, but it’s not the right thing to do at this moment. So I nod and offer the best smile I can even though I’m falling apart on the inside. She smiles back before exiting the room, leaving me with my thoughts and a map to every Amy Jones in the surrounding area.
Time to find my wife.
HOUSE AFTER HOUSE, I knock and wait. Some answer, some don’t, some slam their door in my face when they see I don’t have a car, likely thinking I’m sort of creep, and some say they’ll keep their eyes out except we both know they won’t. How many people actually look out for a missing person they have no ties to, when the Feds—even the fake Feds—are searching for them? Not many I can imagine.
Before I started out this morning I bought a clipboard to keep my maps and notes straight, making sure to go back after dinner to those houses where there was no answer or people were out at work.
When Penny moved to Coronado, she started working in an office on base as a secretary. Some of our best dates were lunch dates. I used to stop by to see her, bringing her something to eat. We’d take a stroll on the beach before both of us had to go back to work. When Claire arrived, Penny talked about daycare, but I didn’t want them separated like that and suggested she stay at home. The plan was for her to go back to work once Claire started preschool, but they never made it that far.
I walk up the stairs and knock on the next door. It’s a small modest house, something that would’ve driven Penny nuts. She loved having space and walls to decorate.
“Can I help you?” The woman who answers is definitely not Penny. She’s too short and very young.
“Are you Amy Jones?”
“Who’s asking?”
“I’m SA Riggs with the FBI,” I say, showing her my badge. “Do you know this woman or have you seen her?” I hold up the photo of Penny and she takes it. This is the first house I’ve stopped at where the resident has actually taken the photo from my hands. She doesn’t need to know that they’re potentially sharing the same name. I’m here to find an Amy Jones who knows my wife and is paying her storage bill. I’m trying not to get my hopes up at the way she’s studying the photo of Penny. This woman is probably just concerned that a woman is missing and that’s all.
“Does she look familiar?” I hedge.