Стальные небеса. Ирина Котова

curl into place.

      “Nothing. One person who knows Tina and remembers seeing her here, but that’s it.”

      He had to fight not to shove his chair back and put as much distance between him and Maggie as he could.

      He hadn’t thought twice about getting close enough to Karin so they could talk, but, then, she hadn’t made his pulse rate soar just by looking at her.

      “It would be easier if I had a better description of the man she was talking to,” he said.

      “Yeah. I tried that ‘Tom Cruise look-alike’ line on one of the bartenders.”

      “And…?”

      “He laughed at me.”

      Rick stared at her, unsmiling. She stared right back, quietly assessing.

      “I’m running out of options here,” he grimly admitted, more to himself than to her.

      She considered that, then shook her head. “Not quite. Let’s go talk to Grace, again.”

      Maggie stood abruptly, reaching for her jacket. “Come on. We might get lucky and catch her at home.”

      “I didn’t get the impression Grace was all that serious about her studies.”

      There wasn’t any humor in the look Maggie gave him.

      “I didn’t say anything about interrupting her studying.”

      Rick followed Maggie as she worked her way through the crowd. He was going on two days without sleep, and the noise of Good Times had given him a headache, but he didn’t even consider finding a hotel. Not yet. There wasn’t much hope they would get anything useful out of Grace—even if they found her home, which he doubted. She was probably so stoned by now that she didn’t even remember who Tina was—but he couldn’t think of anything else to do, and he had to do something.

      They were almost to the door when Maggie stopped in her tracks.

      Rick placed his hand at the small of her back in an instinctive, almost protective gesture. He could feel the tension in her body even through the thickness of her jacket.

      Standing just inside the entrance, watching them, was Fenton chief of police, David Bursey.

      Maggie moved forward, deliberately casual. “Chief Bursey.”

      Bursey touched the brim of his Stetson politely. “Ms. Mann.”

      “Your hat’s still on. Are you coming in or going out?”

      “Guess that depends.”

      Maggie ignored that barb. “I don’t recall seeing you here before.”

      His gaze flicked from Maggie to Rick and back again. “Rumor has it you’re here quite a bit.”

      Maggie’s chin came up. “That’s right. Even a coffeehouse waitress likes a little action now and then. Anything wrong with that?”

      “Not usually, no.”

      Bursey’s tone was casual, bland, even, yet Rick heard the warning beneath the surface. But what was Bursey warning them against?

      He shifted to let a patron get past him. The rush of air from the open door was cold and clean, welcome after the stale air of the bar. He caught a glimpse of a man in the doorway, head lowered, his shoulder raised as he awkwardly shrugged into his coat. Then the man was gone and the outer door swung shut.

      Beside him, Maggie settled her own jacket more comfortably on her shoulders. “See you around, Dave.”

      It was a challenge, not a question.

      The police chief nodded. “Sure, Maggie. You know what I think of you and the Cuppa Joe’s.”

      “Yeah,” said Maggie coolly. “I know.”

      “And you, Dr. Dornier,” the chief added, shifting his attention to Rick. Beneath the broad brim of the Stetson, the man’s eyes narrowed. “You hear anything about your sister, you let us know.”

      Rick held that hard gaze for a minute, fighting down anger. What in hell was all this about? More important, what did it have to do with Tina?

      “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll do that.” He turned to Maggie. “Ready?”

      She was out the door before he could open it for her, her car keys in her hand. Swearing, Rick pulled on his own coat and started after her.

      From the far side of the lot came the sound of an engine starting. It wasn’t enough to drown the voice from the doorway behind him.

      “Mr. Dornier? Rick? Rick! Wait up!”

      It was the waitress, Karin. She hadn’t even bothered to grab a coat before rushing outside. From the corner of his eye, Rick saw Maggie stop, then walk back toward them, but he wasn’t concerned about her right now.

      Karin came to a panting halt beside him. “That man you were looking for? The one Tina was talking to? I saw him!”

      He stiffened, the cold and Bursey both forgotten. “What? Where? He’s inside?”

      She shook her head, then wrapped her arms around her body, shivering. “I’m not real sure, you know? But I’m pretty sure it’s him. I noticed him because he’s really good-looking? And then I noticed that he was watching you and Maggie and I thought, Wow! That’s him!”

      Rick gritted his teeth against the urge to shake her. “Where is he now?”

      Karin was almost dancing from cold and excitement. “He left. Right before you did. He walked right by you. I thought sure you’d see him!”

      At the far side of the lot, a black Ford pickup pulled out of its space. The driver, invisible at this distance, pulled into the street without stopping and sped away.

      Maggie was already running. Rick caught the beep of the electric door locks on her car.

      “Come on!” she shouted. “My car’s closest!”

      He barely managed to squeeze into the passenger seat and slam the door shut before she roared out of the parking lot after the pickup.

      Chapter 3

      The pickup was three blocks away and moving fast.

      The speed limit was thirty-five. Maggie was doing fifty by the time she’d reduced the gap to a block and a half. Ahead, the traffic light changed from green to amber.

      Her grip on the wheel tightened as she scanned the intersection. She slowed just enough to confirm there were no cars coming, then roared on through as the light changed from amber to red.

      Thank God it was the middle of the week and most people were home rather than out partying.

      Maggie glanced in her rearview mirror—no cops in sight—then stepped on the gas. When there were only two cars remaining between them and the pickup, she slowed, then dodged behind a minivan.

      Beside her, Rick Dornier strained forward, heedless of the seat belt cutting him in half. “You can catch him if you step on it.”

      The whiplash urgency of his words told her all she needed to know about his fears for his sister’s safety. Fears he probably hadn’t admitted, even to himself.

      “We want to follow him, not scare him off,” she said. But the next chance she got, she zoomed past the minivan, hoping their quarry wouldn’t notice.

      Now there was only one car between them.

      She easily made it through two more stoplights, but had to push it to slip through the third. And then there weren’t any lights at all for a while. Traffic was steady, but too light. The longer they were behind the pickup, the greater the chances its driver would spot them.

      Worried, Maggie dropped back and let another car slide in front of her.

      “That