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Simon pulled one upon the nearest free computer screen.
“What are youlooking for?” he asked, obviously trying to understand why Amber was suddenlydoing this.
“Place names.Business names. Francesca, where is the zoo on this?”
Francesca wentover, zooming in to give Amber a view of the area around the local zoo. Amberstarted to look for business names nearby, street names, anything that containedthe letters “earies.”
She realized thatthe detective was potentially at least as good a source of that information asthe map.
“Francesca, arethere any businesses or places with the letters ‘earies’ in them?” Amber asked,hoping that the detective would know something that wasn’t there on the screen.“Maybe something old that isn’t there anymore?”
“There was a barcalled ‘Learies,’” Francesca supplied. “But it closed.”
“Where?”
The detectivepointed to a spot on the map.
“We need to lookat the buildings behind that,” Amber said. She started to search on thecomputer, trying to look at what businesses had been there. “We need somewherethat sold fish, I think…”
“There was a smallseafood restaurant back there,” Francesca said, sounding excited now. “The samepeople ran it. I think it failed sometime after… after their son was involvedin a car accident.”
A car accident?Was it possible that even the location was connected to Westford-Myer and therecall of their ill-fated WM 120 car?
Amber didn’t know.Shedidknow that they needed to get down to the former restaurant rightaway. Someone was in there somewhere, slowly being strangled. They had to getto them before it was too late.
Simon andFrancesca seemed to think the same, because they were already running for thedoor as fast as they could.
Amber followedclose behind, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she tried to keep up withthe others. She’d worked out a potential answer, but that wouldn’t stop thewinch. They had to get there and save the victim. As they rushed out of thebuilding, Amber’s mind raced with the possibilities. Was the victim someone thekiller knew? Were they indeed connected to this recall mess in some way? Andmost importantly, could they save them before it was too late?
They piled intoFrancesca’s car and she hit the gas, speeding through the streets of the city,weaving around cars, barely slowing down as she skidded around corners. Ambercould see the look of determination on her face as she drove, obviously wantingto make sure that she got there in time.
As they drove, Amber’smind raced through more dangerous possibilities. What if they were too late?What if the victim was already dead? What if the killer was still there? No,Amber wasn’t going to think like that. She’d solved the puzzle. She’d gotten ananswer. They just had to be in time now to save the victim.
Francesca wasstill driving quickly, even wildly, overtaking other cars, weaving in and outof traffic so fast that other headlights were just a blur coming toward them.Amber saw a sign for the zoo and she knew then that they were getting closer tothe location. Even so, every second felt like an eternity.
They turned acorner, and Amber saw an old building that looked as though it might once havebeen a bar. The boarded-up windows and the peeling paint made it clear that ithad been abandoned for a long time. A sign proclaiming it to be Learies hungover the entrance.
They skidded to ahalt in front of it in a screech of brakes. As they pulled up, Simon pulled outhis gun, and Francesca grabbed her own. They dove out of the car withoutwaiting for Amber. She followed in their wake, her hand on her Glock,determined to back them up in this. She might have been the one to solve thepuzzle, but she was an agent, and she would play her part in this too.
Francesca andSimon led the way behind the bar, working in concert as they swept the alleyahead to make sure that there wasn’t a bad guy waiting to ambush them. Ambercould only envy the way the two worked so smoothly together to cover theangles, following them and making sure that she kept her own lines of fireclear. They could have been working together for years, rather than for just afew hours.
The restaurant layahead. It was a small, run-down place with peeling paint and a faded sign thatread “Ocean’s Catch.” The windows were grimy and dark, but Amber knew that thishad to be the place.
She signaled toFrancesca and Simon, and the three of them spread out, approaching the front ofthe building, trying to cover every angle in case the killer was still theresomewhere, watching and ready for them.
They tried thedoor, but it was locked. Francesca motioned for Simon to cover her as shekicked it in. The door flew open with a crash as her booted foot struck it,splintering the wood around the lock easily. There was no time for anythingmore subtle.
Francesca led theway, her gun at the ready, while Simon went in behind her. Amber followed thetwo, her own weapon raised and ready to fire as they headed through thedarkened entrance. As the three of them stepped inside, Amber’s heart began torace, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the otherwise silent interiorof the building.
It was pitch-blackinside, and for a moment Amber could see nothing. Then the three of them flickedon flashlights, lighting the way in tight beams.
They started tomove through the building. Ordinarily, it would have been Amber and Simonworking to clear the rooms, making sure that there were no threats. Now, it wasFrancesca and Simon who did most of the work, clearing the way for Amber as shefollowed behind. She found herself hurrying to try to keep up.
As they made theirway through the restaurant, Amber couldn’t help but feel a sense of dreadcreeping over her. They cleared the ground floor and found a set of stairsleading up.
There was a seriesof rooms there, the door to one of them hanging open. The three of themapproached it and Amber could feel her adrenaline rising as they rushed throughthe door, flashlights and guns trained on the interior, ready for any dangerthat might await them there.
That feelinginstantly gave way to despair as she saw a form hanging in the darkness, heldin place by a length of cable attached to a winch mechanism. The body wasstill, the sight of it ghastly in its lack of movement.
