10
JACK
Suburban Hospital, Bethesda, Md.
“Lynx have you talked to Suz?” Jack’s face looked slightly pixilated over Skype.
“Not since Monday night at the safe house. I’ve had my nose in this case, trying to figure out where the Levinski children were taken.” She was standing in Striker’s kitchen at the Iniquus barracks, making a sandwich. She was multi-tasking. Checking in on Jack, grabbing a quick bite, and then a shower. After that she planned a thirty-minute power nap, then back on the trail of those boys who disappeared into thin air.
“Any luck?”
“Nada. You were asking about Suz. Hasn’t she—” Lynx reached out to grab at the wall behind her, her feet widened in stance, and she bent her knees as if she were surfing a high wave and working to maintain her balance. “Holy moly,” she whispered.
“What’s that Lynx?”
“Jack be nimble Jack be quick,” she muttered like she was casting an incantation.
“The timing on that text couldn’t have been any better. Thank you. That jump saved my life.”
“No – oh. Holy hell. Your jump off the building was serendipitous.” Lynx squatted down on the floor, not even bothering to move to a chair. She leaned her back into the wall and pulled her knees to her chest.
“Are you okay?” Jack pushed up in his bed. “Move the screen so I can see you better. What are you doing on the floor?”
Lynx pulled the ThinkPad down to her lap. Her face had blanched. “My texting that to you – the timing—that was a stroke of good luck.”
“I’d agree. But I’m still not following. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Lynx blinked as she looked like she was trying to get her thoughts to line themselves up. “Holy moly,” she said again as the enormity of some discovery seemed to hit her hard. “I texted you my sixth sense warning when it came to me. And you read it as an immediate danger.”
“Which it was.”
“No. It wasn’t.”
“How can you say that – the building exploded as my feet hit the car roof.”
“The warning wasn’t about you being in danger on that building.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yeah – that’s the fricking nature of my psychic knowings, isn’t it? They don’t truly make sense until I’m interpreting them in hindsight. But this I can tell you, that message definitely wasn’t meant to prod you off that roof. Just – well, thank God it did. It was a bonus.”
“A bonus,” he deadpanned. “What was it about then?”
“Someone else – something else. You need to intervene.”
“Lynx I’m really not following you. These pain meds. . .”
“If the knowing I heard ‘Jack be nimble Jack be quick Jack jump over the candlestick’ was about the rooftop blowing and your jumping, I wouldn’t have the warning come up again. It just hit me between the eyes. Hard.”
Jack looked at her, stunned. “Jeezus, Lynx! I jumped off a three-story building when I read that.”
“I know! I’m sorry. Wait. No. I’m not sorry. It saved your life. So maybe it was a two-for. . .” Lynx turned her head this way and that as if using an antenna to hone in on something. “No it’s definitely not over, and it’s definitely not you who’s in trouble. You have to jump.”
“That’s kind of cryptic, Lynx. And I think my jumping days are over, at least in the near future. A couple months until I can actually jump. Do you think this knowing is literal?”
“I hope not.” Lynx leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling. “Let’s stop and think. What were we talking about when the knowing hit me? Ah, we were talking about Suz. . .”
“Suz? What about her?” Jack’s face pushed toward the camera, filling the entire screen.
“I don’t. . .” Lynx shook her head.
“Come help me get up. Now!”
“But—”
“Now, or we aren’t friends.” Jack emphasized the threat by closing the lid on his computer, effectively ending the conversation without a good-bye. Something he never did.
It was less than an hour later that Lynx walked into the hospital room with a backpack slung over her shoulder. She looked exhausted. “Jack, I am so conflicted I don’t know what to do. Here, I brought you a bag so at least you can cover up your backside.”
“Thanks.” Jack picked up the bag, hoisted himself out of bed, and propelled into the bathroom on his crutches with his leg locked out straight. He left the door open as he dug through the kit.
Lynx sat with her back to the door.
“What’s the conflict?” he called as he leaned into the wall, so he could pull on a pair of boxer briefs.
“Last time you were in here, after your brush with Satan and death, you released yourself from the hospital against medical advice. The Iniquus Command were pretty ticked at you, as you’ll recall.” She turned around to catch his eye then blinked and quickly turned her head back to the wall “Sorry,” she said, then cleared her throat. “Now, granted, it was for a good reason. You were part of the team that took down Striker’s kidnapper, and you helped to save our company. But still, Command warned you against your cowboy behavior. You were told that doctors’ orders were the same as orders from your superior and disobeying them would be viewed as insubordination which is a terminable offense. If you pack up and leave without some doctor okaying this, you could be fired.”
“I can’t get Suz to answer the phone it goes to voice mail. She’s not answering my texts.” His brace was laying across the sink, and Jack stiffened his muscles to keep his leg straight. He had pulled a t-shirt over his head and was now struggling with his pants. As he grunted and banged into the wall, Lynx moved into the bathroom to help.
“To be fair, every person she’s known since birth, and their friends and relatives are all probably calling her to get a direct line on the scoop about what happened at her school. And you heard that she was outed as a CIA operative. Hound News may have it right; she could be in some black site to prevent her from telling the intel we have about upcoming attacks against children.” Lynx snorted she laughed so hard.
“That’s not even close to being funny.”
“Sit on the toilet, we’re going to have to work as a team to get these pants on you.” She helped lower him down. “It’s Suz. Suz who carries spiders outside and tells them to have a happy life, elsewhere. Suz who sobbed when the stray cat she’d been feeding brought her a dead mouse as a thank you. Suz is . . . like chocolate chip oatmeal cookies and a glass of milk.”
Jack tipped his head.
“You know — warm, sweet, healthy to be around but not obnoxiously so. She brings a taste of normality to our lives – we all love her for that. She’s good stuff. Solid. And I for one look forward to the times I get to see her.”
Jack nodded, and Lynx swiveled to catch Jack’s gaze. “But I have to be truthful, Suz was acting skittish when it came to talking to you.” She had both pants legs up around his thighs. “Suz made up something about being covered in dirt so she couldn’t come by the hospital – but it just didn’t read right body-language-wise. Since I took her to the safe house, I haven’t been able to reach her, either.” Lynx moved around to the other side of the toilet and put her cheek on Jack’s back, reaching around him for the waistband of his pants. “I do know that she called in to ask for her dogs to be brought back to her place and to tell us she was done using the safe house. Can you lift your weight onto your good foot and get your hips up?”
Jack complied.
Lynx shimmied the fabric over his butt and up to his hips. “Whew. There.” She stood up and brushed her hands together. “Okay, that call to Iniquus came in early this morning. Other than that, I don’t have anything. It could well be that she just needs some private time to process. Doing what she did at the school, experiencing what she experienced, it’s not part of most humans’ world. It can deflate you quick, and it takes time. . .”
Jacked leaned back to access the zipper and snap and did them up. “You don’t sound like you believe that.”
“Something’s off. I don’t know what. Is it attached to my knowing?” Lynx fitted the brace back into place over Jack’s grey camo BDUs, quiet for a moment while she aligned and clipped the many closures. “I have no clue – you know that my information system is kind of shitty until I’m looking in the rearview mirror. I feel like a broken record saying this, hindsight makes everything crystal clear.” She stood up to find Jack’s boots. “I had thought your quick exit strategy off the roof was actually what this had been all about.”
“But it’s not.”
“It’s not. That’s the only thing I can say for sure.”
“I’ve got to find Suz and talk to her. In person.”
A nurse stood at the bathroom door where Lynx was on the floor, tying Jack’s boot on his good foot. “Can I ask what’s going on here?” Her hands landed on her hips, and she looked thoroughly put out.
“Ma’am there’s an emergency. My fiancée is . . . I have to get to her right now. Can you please help me fill out the papers I need to sign to leave?” Jack turned his husky-blue eyes and his husky smooth tones on the woman. The combination had rarely failed him.
“The doctor said that maybe you would be released this evening. He hasn’t gotten to you on his rounds yet.”
Jack reached for the woman’s hand. Lynx pursed her lips and raised her brows. Jack didn’t often use this trick unless he needed it in the field, but it seemed he was pulling out all the stops. He looked deeply into the woman’s eyes and said softly, “The woman who holds my heart in her palm is in imminent danger. Nothing will keep me from her side. Please, I’m asking for your help.”
The nurse pulled her hand free, her entire body stance had changed. With a nod of determination, she stalked out the door.
Lynx rolled her eyes. “I hate it when you guys pull that cheesy, soul-searching romcom crap on women.”
“It works, though,” Jack said.
“Sadly true.” Lynx pushed to standing. “Hopefully it will this time, anyway.” Lynx pulled out her cell phone. “It’s twenty-two hundred hours. Suz’ll be in bed. But let me try one more time to get her by phone Okay? I don’t want you to lose your job over a misinterpreted knowing.”
Jack’s phone vibrated on the table beside his bed.
“There, see? I bet that’s Suz now, calling to tell you good night.” Lynx brought Jack’s phone to him.
The screen showed a phone number that Jack didn’t recognize. He held the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“This is Ken Meter, Bethesda PD, trying to reach James McCullen.” His voice was loud enough that Lynx heard, she reached over and touched the speaker button so she could listen to the conversation. Jack cleared his throat; it wasn’t often that someone called him by his given name. “This is James.”
“Mr. McCullen, your name is listed on Gillian Molloy’s DMV records as a person to contact in case of an emergency.”
Jack’s body stiffened, and Lynx moved to put a steadying hand on his shoulder.
“This is not an emergency, Mr. McCullen. It’s just that we responded to a noise ordinance call at Miss Molloy’s residence. Her dogs are barking and causing a disturbance. They’re in a pen that is set up between her house and the garage with a chain link roof over the top. And it seems the only way to get to the dogs is through the house itself. Animal control doesn’t want to snip through the fencing – it looks like a quality pen. No one’s answering the door and with this weather, the dogs are in physical distress. We thought you might be able to bring the dogs into the house. Get the them out of the cold. Give the neighbors some peace and quiet so they can get some sleep.”
“Yes, officer, absolutely. I’m about twenty minutes away, but I’m heading there now.”
After signing off, Jack looked at Lynx. “She’d never leave Dick and Jane alone outside. Especially in this cold.”
“Agreed,” Lynx said. “Someone needs to head right over, but I think I should call Panther Force and have them meet me there. You should get back in bed.”
“Did you really think that plan would fly with me?” Jack asked.
“No, but I had to try,” she said, gathering up Jack’s things and heading toward the door.
The nurse scuttled back in with a clipboard in her hand, thrusting a pen in Jack’s direction. “I explained everything to the doctor.” She held up an infrared thermometer. Standing on her toes, she aimed it at Jack’s forehead. “Dr. Newcomb said if your temperature was normal, you could go.” The nurse looked at the reading.
Jack saw it glowed red with 99.7F in the window.
“Perfectly normal,” she said as she brushed a tear from her face. “Good luck.”
Lynx rolled her eyes behind the nurse’s back. As Jack reached for the pen to sign the papers, Lynx pulled his pack over her shoulders. “I’ll jog ahead and pull the car around to the front door. You go slow. If you get anymore broken than you are now, you’ll be of no use. Got me?” Lynx gave him a pointed look then headed out the door not waiting for his response.
They drove in silence toward Suz’s house. Lynx made the twenty-minute drive in fifteen minutes flat. Jack’s seat was pushed back as far as it would go to accommodate his leg, but he ended up having to release the clasp on his brace, forcing his knee to bend enough to shut the car door. He caught a glimpse of his face in the side mirror. He was nearly white beneath his tan. Pain shot through him in waves. His hands splayed out on the console as if he could push the car to go faster. Anxiety rolled off of him, and he knew it was hitting Lynx’s highly-tuned sensibilities hard because she was plastered up against her door, putting as much distance as she could between them.
Jack had been in combat situations for the last seven years, seen his friends injured and killed, been pulled back from the brink himself, anything that a human being could do that was evil and horrific to another – he had seen, but none of it ever felt like this to him. He was a different person altogether thinking that something wasn’t right with Suz, that she might be in danger. He relished the power of adrenaline surges on a normal day – but today, he was awash in a fear that he had never experienced before.
Lynx pulled up as close as she could to the sidewalk and opened the back door to pull out Jack’s crutches.
“We’re here!” she called over to the officer who seemed to be getting an earful from the antique lady who stood in slippered feet and a robe in the twenty-degree weather, her hair done up in pink plastic curlers.
Jack reached for the crutches that Lynx extended to him, and he jerked his head toward the officer. Lynx turned and went to play diplomat. Jack pulled his keys from his pocket and made a beeline for the front door. On the way, he noticed the garage was open, and Suz’s car was parked where it normally was parked.
The front porch light was off – something that Suz never left unattended when she was at home. The interior lights were on, but the drapes had been pulled tightly closed. None of this was normal. Jack wished Lynx had brought him a side arm. He felt naked as he twisted the key in the lock. He stood at an angle next to the door frame when he pushed the knob. It was a habit that had been drilled into him over years of clearing buildings in hot spots in case someone inside was watching, and waiting. and willing to take a sucker shot at whoever pushed that door open. Standing on the front porch, Jack let his eyes scan the entrance way. Normal. He turned his gaze on Lynx which she picked up immediately and turned to look his way. He tipped his head toward the interior.
Lynx rubbed a hand down the old lady’s arm, wiggled her fingers in a good-bye, and turned to jog his way. Along the path, he saw her reach into the conceal carry pocket on her jacket as she hustled up beside him. He let her take point as she button-hooked into the room, cleared the corners, and he hopped in behind her.
Through the dining room and into the kitchen they progressed with practiced moves. Lynx opened the side door so the dogs would come in, and they’d stop their barking. Dick and Jane were up under Jack’s feet quivering with cold and excitement to see him. Lynx continued checking the house.
“Clear,” she called from Suz’s bathroom. Then walked back to the kitchen. “Don’t move anything you don’t have to Jack. Something’s off in here.”
“Besides a distinct lack of Suz, what did you pick up on?”
“Her computer is booted up in the office. She has a suitcase sitting outside of her closet that she’s been filling from a summer box that she pulled out. And her engagement ring is sitting on her bed on top of a letter that says only, “Dearest Jack.’”
Jack jerked toward their bedroom, the crutches clacking along the wooden floors. Sure enough, there was her lavender stationary with his name written in Suz’s curling script across the top – Dearest Jack, —and nothing more. And there was her ring. He reached out and lifted it to his lips. It was cold. She hadn’t worn it recently. What would make her take it off?
He hadn’t seen her since he left on his mission. Had only received confirmation that she was headed to the hospital via text. Then he was in the operating room. She hadn’t visited him since he was awake. He thought he hadn’t seen her because of St. Basil’s. But that made no damned sense. None of this picture did.
Lynx had followed him as far as the second bedroom where Suz had her desk and bookshelves and wall of plastic rolling drawers where she kept supplies to put together art projects for her kids. Lynx called back to him. “Her computer isn’t password protected?”
“No,” he said, standing in the middle of their bedroom doing a slow scan for things out of place. True he was only here when he wasn’t on assignment. But it felt like home to him. His things were in the drawers. His shampoo was on the shower rack. . . but somehow, right then, he felt like he was no longer welcome, and it shook him to the core. Jack wondered if the medications they had been giving him at the hospital was messing with his system. The sensations he was experiencing physically and emotionally weren’t things he had known before. He cleared his throat. “No that’s her house computer. She hated the extra step of logging in.”
“Well I’m in her account history. Her last email is to Emma Todd,”
“That’s her best friend in Coronado.” Jack called back, staring at the engagement ring hoping for a clue about what this all meant.
“Suz sent Emma airline information. According to the email, she’s leaving Reagan International Thursday morning. The departure time for zero-eight-hundred hours. That would explain the warm weather clothing. Maybe she wanted to get out of town what with Hound News trying to make her into public enemy number one instead of a hero.”
Jack moved to the office door. Cold brushed over him. “She’s going home then?”
“No, she’s going to St. Marten’s. They’re going to meet down there. She and Emma. Or that’s what it says here in the email. Ten days at the Warm Breezes All Inclusive Spa and Resort. Look, they get unending food and drinks. This looks like fun. Probably exactly what she needs, a Pina Colada on the beach, her best friend, some sun. Good for her.”
“It doesn’t explain anything. The dogs. The drapes.”
“I’m. . . huh, here’s something interesting. She went on Travelocity earlier today at 14:29 . . . She purchased two tickets to Brazil.”
“Brazil? What? From St. Martens?” Jack tried to squeeze his large frame into the overcrowded room, so he could see the screen.
“No from out of Reagan, they’re landing in Brasília, and then they have another leg to Foz do Iguaçu.”
“When?”
Lynx tapped at the computer. “Uhm, looks like she should already be in the air over the Gulf of Mexico.”
She turned the screen, so Jack could see it better.
4:40 pm – 7:35 pm
Washington (IAD) – Miami (MIA)
American 2536 · Boeing 737
Average legroom (31")
Often delayed by 30+ min
9:10 pm – 5:45 am (+1)
Miami (MIA) – Brasília (BSB)
TAM 8043 · Boeing 767
Above average legroom (32")
Overnight flight
“But her suitcase is here.” Jack went back to her bedroom and checked the top drawer where she kept her passport and her emergency cash. The cash was there; the passport was gone. He called her phone again, desperate to talk to her. The sound of a thunderstorm rose from the bathroom sink. It was sitting under a picture of him that was laying face down on the counter. “Her phone is here.” He called out. He looked at the text history, the last one she had sent out was Suz letting him know she was on her way. That was Sunday before his operation. He opened her phone history. The list of incoming calls was long. Outgoing, she had called home to her parents’, her sisters, and Emma, Monday evening. She had called Iniquus, Tuesday morning at 09:46 hours. She hadn’t called him.
He didn’t know what to think of that.
He looked down and saw both lids were up on the toilet, as if a man had taken a leak. But when Jack looked in, there was a splash of goo near the rim that looked like vomit that hadn’t been swept down with the flush. Jack touched her toothbrush. It was wet.
Jack went back to Suz’s closet and checked her suitcases; they were both there. She had been packing her green case, her bikini, some shorts and sundresses. This made no sense. He looked down to the empty spot next to her shoe tower. Her zombie bag was gone.
“Lynx come here I need you to puzzle something through with me.”
Lynx rounded the corner.
“Her bug-out bag is gone.” Jack pointed to the empty closet corner.
“Okay this is getting strange.” Lynx moved over to stand where Jack had pointed. “Here, move out of my way.” She put her hands on his elbows as he jostled sideways out of her way. Then she turned, and to his eye, it looked like she was pretending to reach into the closet and heft out the bag. She stepped over the suitcase, around the box of summer wear, and mimed flipping the bug-out bag onto the floor. “She would have had to adjust her grip here.” Lynx squatted down, feigning the bag was in front of her. Her gaze scanned the area, she put her cheek on the floor. “Here we go.”
Lying flat on her stomach, she reached under the bed and pulled out stray items: a lighter, matches, a machete, a Leatherman, lithium batteries, a KABAR fixed blade knife, eight filled magazines, and the Ruger LCP .380 that Suz swore she would never touch. “Not even to stop a pudding-headed zombie from chomping on my leg,” Suz had sworn. Jack thought that if that zombie was chomping on his leg or on Dick and Jane, she’d probably change her tune. But there had been no reason to press her. He’d just stowed the weapons in their various holsters attached to the front flap of the bag for ease of access.
Mace and a stun gun were the last two things Lynx pushed into the open. “What do all of these things have in common?” Lynx asked as she shimmied her way back out and came to her knees.
“Things she can’t take on a flight. Things she could use to defend herself. . .”
“It looks like she took her go-bag to Brazil.”
“What the hell?” Jack stared down at the assortment that Lynx had pulled into a pile. His mind ran through the items he had stowed in the bag. “Is there a SAT phone under there?”
Lynx lay flat on her belly and pushed herself all the way under the king-sized bed. “Do you know a Samuel Jones?” she called out from underneath.
“No.”
“That’s the name listed as her travelling partner.” Lynx said, squirming back out. “She kept the SAT phone? That’s good, right?”
“She may not remember she has it. It’s in the pocket behind the solar panels, plugged in to a charger. It’s not readily obvious that there’s a pocket there. You’d have to know about it to find it.”
“She won’t have much battery life if the pack’s been sitting in the back of her closet.”
“Yeah but since she’s pulled it out, maybe it’s gotten enough charge that I can pick her up on GPS.” Jack was tapping at his smart phone, while Lynx continued her slow process of looking for clues.
“It was brief. But there was a ping around 16:00 at Reagan International. It looks like her zombie apocalypse bag was heading out of town.”
“We don’t know that Suz was with the bag. Or the phone was with the bag for that matter. Maybe Suz changed her mind on a whim and wanted to go to Southern Brazil.”
“You think she left the country to fly to Brazil with a guy I’ve never heard of before, without telling me she’s going, when she has plans to meet Emma in St. Marten’s in two days for drinks and giggles?”
“Okay, devil’s advocate. If Suz was taken against her will, and without any obvious signs of an intruder or violence, one would speculate it was a professional. Why wouldn’t the professional clear the history off the computer? Or for that matter, take the computer with him or them?”
“. . .Because her name and passport would be registered with the airlines so what did it matter? It would be traceable.”
“It did matter. No one would have known she was gone until she didn’t show up in St. Marten’s and Emma called to find out what happened – that would be Thursday. They’d have a two-day lead. And then there would be time to get the police motivated and the paper work – warrants etc. into place. So if they took her, they weren’t concerned about time. And honestly, if there was a bad guy involved, they wouldn’t have left these weapons loose and available to grab. You gave her some pretty high-end hardware to just kick under a bed. They don’t need money or they’d’ve take the weapons. Her engagement ring, her jewelry, her cash, it’s all here.” Lynx raised her brows. “A hostage situation where they don’t care about taking her money or covering their direction? What kind of person would do that?”
Jack shook his head. “Nothing that’s running through my head makes any sense. But I’ve been mainlining pain killers. This is your deal. You’re the puzzle master. What do you think happened?”
“Surface information says this was just what she wanted to do. It was her decision to go to Brazil. The only thing that stands out as truly odd is her dogs, to be honest.”
Jack leaned his weight into the wall and pinched at his lip. His eyes scanned the room. His mind scanned the details. “She didn’t take her phone.”
“That’s odd thing number two – unless she was fed up with people calling her about St. Basil’s and being in the CIA.”
“That one worries me. You told me in the car that they had targeted the Levinski kids in relationship with their grandfather. What if the bad guys believe she really was a plant? They’d think this house was part of her cover story. They might just try to find out how the CIA knew to put an operative in place. They’d try to break her. And since she has no information to feed them, she wouldn’t be able to give them anything. But they’d perceive that as a highly-trained skill level – expert level with SERE training and a stint at torture school. They’d peel back her psyche, trying to find information that doesn’t exist.”
Lynx’s face was serious. “Yeah, it’s crossed my mind.”
“The alternative is she’s went on vacation to see a waterfall. Which is at this moment what I wish more than anything. Even if it were with a guy named Samuel Jones. And even if that Dearest Jack letter with the engagement ring meant that she’d finally had enough. I just want her safe and happy. Gone to see a waterfall. . .is that what you think’s happening here?”
“I’m leaving the doors on my hypotheses open. Things are rarely what they seem on the surface. This could all be a set up, so it looks like Suz wanted a vacation. It does look like she was breaking up with you to be with this other guy. Would Suz do that? It’s not the Suz I know. But people do weird things under stress. The dogs. That’s my sticking point. So, to answer your question, what I think is that we should take the computer to Iniquus and get Nutsbe involved. If the bag was at Reagan, maybe we can find some CCTV footage. According to the ticket’s itinerary, she had to have landed in and taken off out of Miami. If she were in trouble, there would have been plenty of opportunities for her to get help. I mean, they process you individually through security. All she needed to do was say, ‘help me.’ Right? Surely there’s a simple explanation.”
Jack’s face hardened. “You don’t believe that for a second.”
Lynx let out a long exhale. “No. I don’t.” She turned her gaze on Jack and the concern he read there was a sucker punch.
He had worked hundreds of operations where innocent people dangled on the other end of a bad guy’s line. Happy endings were actually pretty damned rare. Pulling someone out of a hell-hole didn’t mean they were put together the same way anymore – mentally or physically.
“Iniquus computers have Suz’s biologics. The computers will be able to pick her right out of the data bases. Then we can see if she was there and the body language between her and this Samuel Jones person. We can do a background check on the guy. Standing here isn’t getting us closer to an answer.” Lynx held up a card. “Suz’s ISO contact card was in the trash. I’m going to give him a call and have him take charge of the dogs and secure the house, ask him what he saw when he had contact.”
Jack nodded, his face grim. He maneuvered to the bathroom, and reached for a fever reducer. He stared into Suz’s medicine chest. “That’s damned odd.”
“What’s that?” Lynx moved to see what Jack saw. “Her medicine cabinet is empty?”
“Looks like she cleared it out.”
“What does she normally keep there?”
“The usual OTC meds, thermometer . . . tampons, Q-tips. Medicine cabinet stuff.”
“We’ll add that to the list of odd things to consider.”
As they moved toward Lynx’s car, Jack knew in his bones that Suz was with the bag, and she was headed to Brazil. He knew that she went against her will or her dogs would be in someone’s care not shivering and howling pressed up against the house for warmth on a sub-freezing night. Who had her? What was their plan? How was he going to get her back?