Page 90 of Taking Care of the Target

“If you’d just try to move on, you’d see that it’s possible,” Maude said. “There’s a better guy out there for you. Now, I won’t lie and say I don’t hope it’s someone you and I both know quite well, but I’m trying to stop myself before completely overstepping, even if Harold thinks my lines are too far out there.”

Cassie nearly laughed at that—overstepping was Maude’s middle name. It was why she was standing in this kitchen right now, attached to the woman who wouldn’t take no for an answer from the day they met.

“Look, I’m glad y’all worry about me…” Cassie tried to ignore the fact that she’d said “y’all.” Oklahoma was starting to work its way in. “But I’m not used to so many people questioning my every move. I was a loner for a long time. I hold things close and sometimes need to retreat into myself a little bit. I need you to respect that.”

“Well, don’t be gone too long,” Maude said and handed her a couple of plates of cake to pass out. “We miss you.”

A dull ache formed between Cassie’s ribs. The thought of leaving was starting to hurt almost as much as never seeing Vince again.I’ll miss you, too.

***

Jim had chewed his pen lid to a mangled plastic mess that now resembled a wad of blue gum. Usually he liked to drive—liked the control of it—but Mancini had offered to drive the rental car, and Jim’s nerves were jumping high enough he gladly took him up on it.

As both sides were preparing for Carlo Rossi’s trial, he’d chased leads on Cassandra Dalton in his spare time. Nothing was quite as powerful as eyewitness accounts. Vince’s would be good, but Cassandra’s would seal the deal.

So he looked into every stop along the two possible buses’ paths, calling in favors to police in each city. He nearly gave up—in fact, he had for a little while—because the trail was icy cold.

But then a pair of police officers in Tulsa, Oklahoma found a clerk who not only recognized her, but said she’d looked friendly with an older couple who often made trips from the station. As luck would have it, he also knew about a restaurant they used to run, which gave Jim enough information to find their names.

At first he was going to have local authorities question Maude and Harold Hurst, but it was the first lead in ages, and he didn’t want anyone scaring Cassandra before he got a chance to talk to her. His instincts told him this was a real lead, so he decided to trust them.

“Vince would try to take on the both of us if he knew what we were doing,” Mancini said.

“You scared of Vince DaMarco?”

His partnerpshawedthe suggestion, but his eyes went a bit wider than usual. “I’m just saying that we’re going to piss off our strongest witness, and if we do find Cassandra, we’re going to want to be armed when he finds out. Something tells me he won’t care all that much about assaulting an officer. And if we charged him, it’d make his testimony weaker because they’d bring that up as a mark against his character. Just stating the obvious, so we’re prepared for the repercussions.”

“For another witness against Carlo, I’ll deal with it.” Jim’s GPS instructed them to make a right. They turned down a driveway and parked next to the other vehicles crowded in front of the two-story house. Every window glowed with warm yellow light. “Looks like they’re having a party.”

Jim climbed out of the car and ran a hand down his suit coat. After the plane ride and the drive, he was a bit crumpled and a lot tired. If this trip turned out to be a waste of time, he might have to throw a temper tantrum that’d impress a two-year-old.

He and Mancini walked up to the front door and knocked. A friendly woman with a kind, wrinkled face opened the door. “Maude Hurst?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“I’m Special Agent McVee from the FBI and this is my partner, Agent Mancini.” They both displayed their badges. “We’d like to ask you and your husband a few questions.”

“What is this about?” she asked.

“We’re looking for someone, and we thought you might have seen her. Her name’s Cassandra Dalton.”

The woman continued to stare, not even a flicker of recognition. Shouts and cheers came from deep inside the house, a whole mess of them at once.

“Where’s your husband?” Jim asked.

“Watching the game, of course. It is Sunday, isn’t it? Look, I don’t know any Cassandra, and he gets mighty cranky if I interrupt him during the game. It is playoffs, you know.”

“We understand a good football game just like anyone else, ma’am,” Mancini said. “But this is really important. This girl we’re looking for usually goes by Cassie. Her name might not ring any bells, but maybe her picture will; she might be going by a different name.”

Mancini held up a picture of Cassandra. “We know you rode the same bus from Maryland, and a few people saw you talking in the station in Tulsa. It’s very important we find her, and we were hoping you might know where she is.”

Mrs. Hurst opened the door all the way and gestured them inside. “Come on in, and I’ll go get my husband.”

Chapter Forty-One

After dinner, Owen had asked Cassie to take a walk with him to look for golf balls on the course that backed up to Maude and Harold’s house. When she asked the Hursts if they golfed, they’d both looked at her like she was crazy and then informed hertheywere there first. The stretches of green and trees made for a nice backyard, even though she wondered if they were technically trespassing.

Apparently Owen did golf, and he claimed he hunted for lost balls on the course so he could use them at the driving range. Cassie suspected he wanted an excuse to talk to her alone, and for that reason, she’d almost refused. But everyone else was watching the game, a walk in the almost-spring sunshine sounded nice, and Maude and Deanne had pretty much shoved her out the door.

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