Hope to Die (Alex Cross 22)

“If she got in trouble, would she head there? To her mom’s?”

“She might,” Gauvin said.

“What’s the Le Duc place like?”

“The house is a dump, but there are outbuildings and the property’s big,” the sheriff said. “And it’s on the Bayou des Cannes. Isolated. There isn’t another house around there for a mile, maybe more.”

It was, in short, the kind of place a madman like Mulch might keep five hostages. The sheriff offered to go out to Le Duc’s mother’s to ask some questions and have a look around, but I asked him not to, saying that I wanted to be there in case that was where my family was being held. Instead, I asked that the road into the place be monitored.

Shortly after ten, the rain eased somewhat, and I was able to relax my death grip on the wheel. The rain had been falling in sheets, and the glare off the wet road was forcing me to squint when my cell phone rang again.

CHAPTER

71

IT WAS NED MAHONEY. I answered and put the phone on speaker.

“Alex?” Mahoney said. “Where are you now?”

I glanced at Aaliyah, who said, “About ten miles west of Beaumont.”

“Your hunch about Le Duc’s mom might be paying off,” Mahoney said. “We got access to Le Duc’s credit cards. About five hours ago, she bought gas in Natchitoches. Four hours before that, she bought gas and food in Texarkana. She’s driving a blue 2014 Dodge Avenger rental and heading in your direction.”

I sped up and ignored the rain, which had started falling hard again.

“Any pictures from gas stations?” Aaliyah said.

“We’ve made the request,” Sampson said.

I said, “Can you get the rental agency to track the car’s GPS?”

“We’ve made that request too,” said Mahoney. “Hertz wants to comply, but they need to see a search warrant, which is being worked on as we speak.”

“Where was she before Texarkana?” I asked.

“She’s spent quite a bit of time in DC the past few months,” Sampson said. “In and around Kalorama.”

“We have an address?” Aaliyah asked.

“There’s nothing under her name.”

“Any other travel outside the District?” I asked.

“Lots,” Mahoney said. “She was in a mystery bookstore in Philadelphia last Tuesday, and at the airport in St. Louis on Friday. On Saturday, she was back east, buying food at a restaurant in Cumberland, Maryland.”

“Wait,” Aaliyah said. “What time did she buy the food in Cumberland?”

There was a pause before Sampson said, “Ten twelve. She charged eighteen dollars and change at, uh, Café Mark on Baltimore Street.”

“That’s not twenty miles from Frostburg,” Aaliyah said. “And it fits with the time Claude Harrow was killed and his place torched.”

“I thought that too, Tess,” Sampson said.

“You talk to anyone at that café?” I asked.

“Closed until seven tomorrow morning,” Mahoney said.

“Any other purchases?” Aaliyah asked.