Page 155 of You Found Me
Two fucking hours while Della’s tracking dot moved farther and farther away.
It was time for something drastic.
He eyed one of the three cars in the parking lot, a blue Volvo. He could “borrow” it.
He walked slowly behind it, temptation pulling at him like a dog on a leash.
It would be a stupid thing to do. It wouldn’t do any good in the long run.
He clenched his teeth and went through all the reasons why stealing a ride would actually slow him down, not speed him up.
People tended to object when their cars were stolen. They called police. The last thing he needed was cops chasing afterhim or worse, catching him. Winding up in jail could get Della killed.
Despite his urgent desire to get on the road, he knew he didn’t need just any ride. He needed the equipment in Spencer’s van if he was going to have any hope of finding her because the tracking app was broken. The dot that represented his life-line to Della would disappear, then reappear in the middle of a field or a pond or a building, then blip off again, only to show up several miles down the road.
Still. The Volvo sat there. Waiting.
“Dammit.” He paced closer to it, impatience clawing at his better judgment.
The door to the dive opened and a middle-aged woman came out, keys in hand. She watched him with suspicious eyes as she hurried to the car, got in, and pulled away.
He scowled at the spot where her car had been parked, then checked the time. Again.
Then he texted Spencer.
Again.
Ward — ETA?
He waited a few seconds, but Spencer didn’t respond.
Ward — I’m taking a car if you're not here in five.
As if summoned, Spencer’s black van pulled into the parking lot and up next to him like an ocean barge, slow and cautious.
Ward crossed to the driver’s side door and gestured for Spencer to get out. “You drive like a hedgehog going to church.”
“I exceeded the speed limit the entire way.” Spencer circled around to the passenger side and climbed in. “Besides, this mobile unit contains a lot of sensitive equipment that we need.You were the one who threatened me with dismemberment if I broke any of it.”
Ward flicked through the dashboard touchscreen map. “What’s up with the tracker? It keeps glitching.”
“It’s the signal.” Spencer picked up a tablet from the center console. “It works off cell towers, which are scattered farther apart out here in the rural areas. The last solid signal places her north of Albany on I-87.”
“When was that?”
“A little over an hour ago.” Spencer tapped on the tablet. “They were halfway through town, then. Good cell coverage there.”
“What about now? How long would it take to drive through town?” Ward studied the map. They were on a loop that didn’t go through downtown.
“About fifteen minutes.”
“So what you’re saying is they’re now an hour and a half ahead of us, on the other side of Albany, New York, heading north. That’s what you’re saying.”
“No, I’m saying that’s where they were when the app traced a solid ping. If you calculate their rate of speed at the time, traffic conditions, plus…”
“Spence. We need a plan, not a math problem."
“Oh…right.” Spencer blinked at him. “Take the exit for Highway 9 up ahead. We should be able to cut them off near Clayton Springs. Especially since you’re driving and you don’t care about the expensive equipment in the back.”