Its almost certain. He could be in a building, but it seems that hes still on the move. We missed him at his apartment by mere minutes.

They came to the hot dog vendor, just shy of the intersection. She guessed there might be twenty-five or thirty people on the streets within the block up ahead. A few were actively speaking on their phones while a handful of others were walking along while also looking at something on their phones.

Do you have the number? she asked as an idea occurred to her.

Yeah. Why?

Call it. And if someone answers, ask for Bob. Then apologize that you called the wrong number.

Genius, he said, pulling the number up. She watched as he made the call and then looked out to the crowd from their place behind the hot dog vendor.

She was standing close enough to Jack that she could just barely hear the ringing of the other line. She scanned the crowd, looking for someone who was taking the time to stop to answer a call. She saw nothing like this, though she heard Jack start to speak.

Hey! Is this Bob? A pause, and then Jack putting on a great performance. Ah hell, sorry about that. Must be a wrong number.

Just as he ended the call, Rachel saw a man half a block away, standing on the opposite side of the street in front of a thrift store. He was removing his phone from his ear and held it in front of him. He was looking at the screen with a confused expression and then placed it back into his pants pocket.

I think I got him, Rachel said. Wait a few seconds and call him again.

She kept her eyes on the suspect as he started walking across the street. He looked to be studying the road and the cars that came and went. It made her wonder if he might be looking to hail a cab. As he passed across the street, she almost lost him as he walked behind three others that were also crossing the street. She saw him clearly as he came to the sidewalk, though. He started walking away from them, his back to them.

Come on, Rachel said. They left their spot behind the hot dog vendor and carefully made their way across the street. Rachel could still see the man, about half a block away. He seemed to be in no real hurry.

Okay, call it again, she said. If he answers, dont say a word.

Jack placed the call again. Within two seconds, the man Rachel had been spying on stopped walking and reached back into his pocket. He pulled out his phone, checked the caller display, and pressed a button on the side. He then returned it to his pocket.

Voicemail, Jack said.

Then theres our guy, she said, nodding ahead.