Against the Edge. Kat MartinЧитать онлайн книгу.
to talk to Sol. He in yet?”
“You sound tired, Ben. That little blonde you took home after the wedding keep you up till the wee hours of the morning?”
Ben ignored the gibe. Annie knew everything that went on in the office. Hell, the woman knew everything that went on in Houston. She had a tongue like a viper and didn’t hesitate to use it. She was also a mother hen and everyone’s confidante, even his.
“I’ve got a son, Annie. I just found out. The boy’s missing. I need to talk to Sol.”
A heartbeat passed. “You got it, Iceman. Anything you need just let me know.”
“Listen, I may be gone for a while. Will you check on Herc in a day or two, make sure he’s okay?” Annie had a key to his house. One of the few people he trusted with his security codes.
“No problem.”
“I’ve got a couple of cases I was supposed to start working this week. The files are on my desk. Maybe you could ask Jake to take them. Or maybe Trace could work one of them for me.” Trace Rawlins owned the company, and Jake Cantrell was another P.I. who worked freelance in the office. Both men were ex-military, Trace a ranger and Jake a Force Recon Marine sniper. They were among his closest friends.
“Don’t you worry,” Annie said. “We’ll handle it. You just find your boy.” She spoke to Sol on the intercom, then patched him through. Annie was a real busybody, but she knew when things were serious. “Good luck, honey.”
Sol picked up right away. He was only twenty-four, but when it came to computer know-how, Sol Greenway was as good as it got.
“Hey, Ice, Annie says you got a kid?”
“That’s right. He’s only nine and he’s missing. I need to find him, Sol.”
“Just give me what you’ve got and I’m on it.”
Ben gave Sol the few details he had, including info on the Robersons, Bridger’s name and last known address, that he’d been employed at Warner Construction. “I’ve also got some photos I can send.”
“Great,” Sol said. “I’ll try facial recognition. Take a look at the registered-sex-offender list, too, see if there’s something somebody missed.”
Ben’s stomach tightened. “Thanks.”
“I’ll start digging, just prowl, see what I can find.”
“That’d be great. Keep me posted.”
“Will do.” Ben ended the call and went to work. Using the portable scanner he’d brought with him, he sent Sol the photos he had of Sam, along with a picture of Bridger with Laura that Claire had given him.
Finished, he came up out of his chair just as Claire walked back into the kitchen dressed in jeans and a crisp white cotton blouse, a pair of gold sandals on her slender feet. Her toenails were painted a fiery red, he noticed, and thought again about her car and taking her to bed.
Which wasn’t going to happen. He took a last glance, appreciating her feminine curves. At least not anytime soon.
“Have you found anything?” she asked.
“I need to talk to the people Bridger worked for.”
And he needed to get into the bastard’s apartment, which the police report had said was vacant. He needed to see if the police had missed something, but he wasn’t going to cop to breaking and entering to Claire. “I’ll be back when I’m finished.”
“I’m going with you. And I think we should go to his apartment. It was empty when the police went in, but they might have missed something.”
His mouth edged up. “Glad you thought of it. His address was in the police report. I’ll stop by before I come back.”
Those determined green eyes fixed on his face. “I said, I’m going with you.”
He could see by her stubborn expression she wasn’t going to back down. Since it wasn’t worth an argument, he just walked over, took the keys down from the hook on the key rack and started walking.
“After you,” he said, and pulled open the apartment door.
* * *
Claire followed Ben up the metal stairs into the Warner Construction trailer next to a big high-rise building site. They walked over to the Formica-topped counter, and one of the female employees left her desk and came to greet them.
“May I help you?”
“Any chance you knew a guy named Troy Bridger?” Ben asked. “I understand he worked here.”
Claire didn’t miss the way the redhead smiled at Ben.
“Troy was a crane operator, but he quit a couple of weeks ago.” She gave him a long, slow once-over, clearly liking what she saw. “He didn’t give us any notice, just picked up his check and said he wouldn’t be back.” She was wearing tight jeans and a navy blue T-shirt with the words we dig you stretched over a lush pair of breasts.
“Did Troy usually pick up his paychecks?” Ben asked. “Or did you mail them somewhere?”
She tossed a red curl over her shoulder and gave him another smile. “Troy always picked them up.” To his credit, Ben didn’t seem to be taking the bait, but the redhead was definitely interested. Claire couldn’t fault her taste in men.
“Did he say anything about taking another job?”
“He said he was going to be moving,” the woman said, “leaving the state. He didn’t say where he was headed. I figured maybe he was going home.”
Claire’s interest picked up. “Do you know where he was from?”
The redhead’s gaze never strayed from Ben. “He never said, but I think it was somewhere in the South. He talked about having brothers and he said he liked to hunt. Once in a while, I noticed a Southern drawl.”
Ben turned to Claire. “You notice it?”
“We didn’t talk that often. I hadn’t thought about it until now, but yes...I think he did have a slight Southern accent. Not too much, but some.”
Ben returned his attention to the woman behind the counter. “Troy ever mention a boy named Sam?”
She shook her head. “Not that I recall.”
“Is there anyone else I could talk to about him, someone who might know where to find him?”
“Not that I know of. Troy was a real loner, you know? He did his job and left. He never hung around with the other guys.”
Ben took out his wallet and handed the redhead a business card. “I’d really like to speak to him. If you think of something that could help me find him, Ms....?”
“Ferber. Tracy Ferber.”
“Ms. Ferber. If you think of something that might help us find him, I’d appreciate it if you’d call me on my cell.”
“Okay’” she read his name on the card, gave him a flirty glance “’Ben.”
Claire fought the urge to roll her eyes. She felt Ben’s hand at her waist, directing her toward the door, then they were outside heading for the car.
“That was a big fat zero,” she said as she settled in the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. “Unless you were looking for a date.”
“Funny. We got a lead. Bridger may be headed home and that might mean he’s moving south.”
“But we don’t really know.”
“That’s the way it works, Claire. You collect the bits and pieces, keep adding to them, see which ones fit, which ones don’t. Pretty soon you begin to get a picture.”
But all of that took time and