I returned to the office. I locked the back door behind me, then moved down the hall turning off lights as I went. I grabbed my shoulder bag and went out the front door, pausing long enough to lock up. I stood for a moment, scanning the darkened street. All the cars in range belonged to neighbors, vehicles I'd seen before and could identify on sight. I let myself into my car and fired up the engine. I drove around the corner and nosed my VW into the alleyway.

Reba had closed and padlocked the garage. She opened the passenger-side door, put the suitcase in the backseat, and got in. I reached over into the rear and grabbed my denim jacket. "Here. Put this on before you catch cold."

"Thanks." She shrugged into the jacket and locked her seat belt in place.

"Where to?"

"The nearest public phone."

"Why not my office, as long as we're here?"

"I don't want you tied into this in any way."

"Tied into what?"

"Just find a phone," she said.

Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Reba wanted me to make the call to Beck. We found a phone booth outside a supermarket. The store was a bright island, icy fluorescent lights reflected in the shiny paint finish of the dozen or so cars in the parking lot out front. This was the store where I did my weekly shopping, and I longed for nothing so much as to buy milk and eggs and then wend my way home.

Reba put a handful of coins and a slip of paper with Beck's home and office numbers on the metal shelf under the phone. "Try his home phone first. If Tracy answers, maybe she'll think he has a girlfriend," she said.

"He does. Her name is Onni."

"She probably knows about her. I'm talking someone new. Might as well bug the shit out of her while we can."

"That's not nice. I thought women were supposed to be nice."

"I wouldn't bet on it if I were you."

I picked up the handset. "So what am I supposed to say to him?"

"Tell him to meet us at the East Beach parking lot in fifteen minutes. As soon as he hands Marty over, he gets his computer."

I held the handset against my chest. "Please don't do this. I'm begging you. What's to prevent him from snatching the damn thing? You don't even have a gun."

"Of course I don't have a gun. I'm a convicted felon. I can't carry," she said, as though offended by the very idea.

"What if Beck has one?"

"He doesn't even own a gun. Besides, we'll be right out in plain sight. Anyone driving along Cabana Boulevard can see us. Here, give me that."