Page 92 of Taking Care of the Target

Mrs. Hurst shot her husband a dirty look before turning a sugary smile as sweet as the iced tea she brought Jim and Mancini their way. “I do like to talk to everyone. I think it’s called being a nice person. And now that he mentions it, she did ask for directions to…” She tapped her lip. “Sorry, memory’s not what it used to be.” Another couple of taps and then she held up a finger. “Oh yes. Directions to Little Rock, Arkansas. Wasn’t that it, Harold?”

He shrugged. “I tuned you out long before the conversation got to that point.”

Mrs. Hurst gave a Lord-give-me-strength sigh. “Anyway, I told her she’d want to get on the I-40 and go east. She seemed like such a sweet girl.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “She’s not a criminal, is she?” She shoved her husband’s shoulder. “I told you criminals ride that bus. This is why we should fly.”

“If a bus rolls, we’ve got a chance of surviving,” Mr. Hurst said. “If we crash in an airplane, we’re dead. Unless it’s the movies, and we don’t live in the movies.”

As they launched into an argument they’d obviously had several times before, Jim fought the urge to shout at them to stop bickering and try to think of details he could actually use.

“She’s not a criminal,” Mancini said, although with the fighting, Jim wasn’t sure they even heard. “Did she maybe give you her name?”

Mrs. Hurst’s eyebrows drew together. “Jeez, hon, not that I remember. We only talked briefly. If she gave it to me, I sure don’t recall it. I meet so many people on those trips. Since my husband refuses to fly.”

The Hursts exchanged dirty looks.

What a waste. The flight, the drive. Jim wanted another witness so badly that he’d jumped on this tiny clue and ran wild with it. He pulled out a card and slid it over to Mrs. Hurst. “If you remember any other details, anything that might help us find her, please give me a call.”

“Sure thing. Did you boys want some cake before you go? I’m famous ‘round here for my desserts.”

“But the game,” Harold said in a sorry excuse for a whisper.

“We’ll let you guys get back to your evening,” Jim said.

The screech of the screen door punctuated their walk to the rental car. The thought of catching a late night flight made Jim want to bang his head against the dashboard. “Might as well stay here a night. Unless you’re in a big hurry to get home.”

Mancini covered a yawn with his hand. “Maybe we can poke around the area a little more since we’re already here? Or should we head to Little Rock?”

Little Rock was a complete shot in the dark. The question was, would their time be better spent on another avenue? But he kept picturing Carlo’s smarmy lawyer in court saying “reasonable doubt” over and over again, and wanting something that’d crush all doubt. “You think we’ll find something?”

Mancini sighed. “I just know that we’re already here.”

***

The gun comment pretty much sent Owen and Deanne over the edge. Finally, Cassie convinced them to creep up to the house and check on things. The red taillights of a car heading toward the main road seemed like a good sign.

Maude burst out the back door, making all three of them jump.

“Are you okay?” Cassie asked, looking her over for signs of being roughed up for information.

“I’m fine, but we need to have a serious talk. Owen, Deanne, if you’ll excuse us…”

“I want to know what’s going on,” Owen said, jutting out his jaw.

“Me, too,” Deanne said, crossing her arms.

“Let me talk to Katie first.” Both of them cast hurt glances at Maude and then Cassie before going into the house. Once they were alone, Maude looked her square in the eye. “Who’s Cassandra Dalton?”

Cassie sighed. “Depends on who’s asking.”

“I am,” Maude said.

“I need to know who came looking first. If they were big Italian guys, then we all need to—”

“Two FBI agents. Harold and I lied right to their faces. Pretty sure that’s frowned upon, but you’re my family, Katie. Or…Cassandra? The entire time I told myself I know you, and you’ve got to have your reasons, but now I need an explanation. Ideserveone, too.”

Cassie’s mind spun over the fact that the FBI came looking for her. They made the arrests. This could be a good thing. But then she thought of Vince telling her Carlo had too many contacts to trust anyone. “How’d the FBI find me?”

“That’s what you want to say to me right now? You’re simply horrible at explanations.”

---