Page 132 of The Archer Brothers

“I know what you’re thinking, McCoy, but it was easier for her to call me. She’s located Amy Jones; the only problem is that there are over three hundred registered with the bank. Of those three hundred, she found that one hundred and sixty of them have children who match Claire’s age.”

“Well shit,” I mutter.

“Penny has chosen one of the most common names in the United States to hide under. There are over six hundred thousand Amy’s in the US.”

Making eye contact with Cara, I shake my head. “We don’t know that Amy and Penny are the same person.”

Cara sighs. “I get your hesitation, but I’m working under the assumption they’re the same person until I find out otherwise. Marley is sending me a map of all the Amy Jones’ near the bank locations. We’ll leave tonight to fly to New York and start there. Unfortunately, we’ll need to split up to cover more ground.”

Ryley comes over to me and gives me a hug. I can feel tears on my neck, but don’t call attention to it. I can’t imagine what she thinking or going through right now. Years ago she lost Evan and her friend, Penny, only to assume that Penny left, unable to handle the heartache. I’ve never wished so hard that Penny would’ve confided in her about what happened, but I understand why—fear, it’s crippling. And I’m sure the last thing Penny was thinking about was Ryley and her feelings. She was in mom mode, protecting our daughter.

Both Ryley and Carole leave me at the table to collect my thoughts. Visions of Penny running into my arms flood my mind. That’s the reunion I want. Realistically, the reunion I’ll get is Penny telling me she’s in love with someone else. It’d make sense. For all I know she’s been with them longer than she was with me and I really have no leg to stand on.

Rising, I turn to stare out of the sliding glass door. Jensen and EJ are visible from where I am. It looks so peaceful on the lake, and now I wish I had gone fishing; at least then my thoughts would have some company.

“Wherever you are, Penny, I’m coming for you.”

I’ve never flown on a commercial airline at night before. It’s different looking out of the window and seeing nothing but a dark mass of nothing below you. Before, I’d never be able to look out until the hatch door opened and I’d be ready to jump into the unknown. Somehow, flying now, makes me miss my parachute and jumping at night. At this moment, I’d really like the security of my chute.

This time, I walked through the airport like everyone else except for the fact that I had a badge in my hand. When I asked Cara why the difference, she filled me in on how her friend Riggs is on vacation and he brought his badge over to the Clarke’s with the understanding that Cara would return it before he came back from Mexico. And that I wouldn’t kill anyone. The latter I can’t promise because if I see Frannie, she’s dead. If it’s by my hands or a gun, it doesn’t matter as long as I’m the one doing it.

Torturing her would be ideal. Pulling her fingernails out. Smashing her kneecaps. Breaking each finger one by one. I’d cause so much pain she would beg me to kill her, but I wouldn’t. I’d let her sit there for hours with an audiotape in the background playing the sounds of screaming children begging for their moms and dads, crying uncontrollably. She’d hear them pleading, asking their attackers to stop raping them. I’d play it over and over again until she begged me to end her life.

The fact that I have these thoughts sickens me. I can’t help it. The mere mention of her sends me into a rage that I’ve never known before. It’s worse now than when we stumbled up on Renato. Frannie, of all people, should’ve been protecting my daughter. We let her into our home, welcomed her with open arms, only for her to have an agenda that would be the end of my family. She needs to pay.

I startle awake when the plane touches down. I must’ve fallen asleep, and feel worse now than I did when I boarded. Gazing out the window, the early morning sun casts a bright glow over New York. The stores and businesses are starting to open and people will start their commute to work. The streets are going to be crowded with cars, foot traffic, and the NYPD standing in the center of an intersection telling everyone which way they can go.

Cara and I deplane and immediately head for the car service area. Instead of checking luggage, we only brought duffle bags with a few items. Inside mine, I have a large sum of money, which she was able to procure before we left. I think that when I grow up I want to become an agent like her. I’ve seen her create magic out of thin air with this trip. She flashes her badge, allowing us to bypass the travelers waiting in the taxi line. We both slide in the cab, and then Cara gives the driver an address and tells him there’s double pay if he hurries.

He does.

My eyes are glued to the people we’re passing, wondering if Amy is in the mix. She could be here, walking the streets of Manhattan carrying a briefcase. Before Claire was born, Penny wanted to own her own boutique. Maybe she’s here now working at Saks, or Macy’s.

The driver stops at a hotel about a block off Times Square. It’s shady and not what I’d expect Cara to stay in. I have a feeling she’s not, though, and this will be my residence for the time being. She checks us in and I follow her down the hall to the last door. When she draws her gun, my heart rate spikes, and for the first time in a long time it’s out of fear. She holds her hand up, fist closed, telling me to wait, and since she has the gun, I listen. Cara enters the room, pointing her gun left then right before disappearing into the bathroom.

“All clear,” she says, holstering her gun as I walk in.

“Um … what was that?” I ask, closing the door behind me.

“Precaution. I’ve had to call in some favors, and one of the people I spoke to yesterday has been an outspoken supporter of Lawson. I don’t know how much of my conversation they overheard.”

“Well that makes me feel safe.”

She nods. “Open your duffle.” Cara crosses the small room and closes the curtains.

After setting it down on the bed, I do as she instructs. Inside are the clothes she asked for, my pictures of Penny and Claire—both with age progression—and the cash she put in there earlier. I look at her in confusion, wondering what I’m missing.

“Hidden inside the fold of your pants is a piece. Only fire if you feel you’re in imminent danger. If you get arrested, your one phone call is to me and only me, and you don’t say anything to anyone. Understand?”

“Yes.” The feel of the cool metal as it touches my fingertips brings me an odd sense of calm. Even when I wasn’t on duty or deployed, I always had an accessible weapon.

“Here are the lists that Marley sent, along with detailed maps. Each red dot is an Amy Jones. It’s either her maiden or married name. The records Marley was able to get a hold of didn’t break it down for her. You’re going to go door-to-door and introduce yourself as Riggs. If a woman answers, ask if she’s Amy Jones, you’ll know right off if it’s Penny as she’ll be able to tell it’s you. If it’s a man, show him the picture of Penny and ask if he’s seen her.

“If you do encounter Penny, don’t panic. She’s liable to freak out. Give her the address to this place and ask her to meet you and call me straight away.”

“Easier said than done, but I understand.” I don’t know how I’m not going to panic if I see Penny. I’ll be in full freak out mode whether I intend to be or not.

“When you’re out, never take the same route back home. You need to work under the impression that someone is following you. You have enough money to eat three meals, buy extra clothes if you need to, and for your transportation. The room is covered.

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