And Then She Was Gone(87)
Michael got to the next corner. The crosswalk light was red, so he stopped. Then, suddenly, he turned around.
Jack’s breath caught in his throat. Chandler was still walking, and he was heading straight toward Michael.
Damn. If he recognizes Chandler…
Michael stood with his hands at his sides, staring back down the sidewalk. Chandler walked right up beside him, as casual as could be, and waited for the crosswalk light to change. Jack stood on the other side of the road, holding his breath.
Michael started to walk again—back the way he had come.
The crosswalk signal turned green, and the herd of people who had bunched up on the corners began walking, including Chandler and Jack. When they passed each other in the middle of the crosswalk, Chandler wiggled his eyebrows. “That was close,” he muttered.
Jack nodded and continued across the intersection.
Michael was already a good distance away, moving back toward his car. As Jack followed, Michael approached the bistro again. He slowed down and kept his head turned toward the tables. It seemed to Jack like he was looking for someone, scanning the crowd. Most of the diners were chatting away. Some typed on their phones, while others wolfed down their food like they were in an eating contest.
As Jack watched, Michael focused in on one table. Two women sat there—a blonde and a brunette. The brunette was talking animatedly, her back to Michael. But as Michael walked past, the blonde glanced in his direction.
Michael’s pace slowed. He stared back at the blonde until he passed them, and then his head swiveled forward and his pace picked back up.
Jack hustled down the street after him.
When Jack reached his car, he hopped in and started the engine, waiting for Chandler. In his rearview mirror he saw the Toyota pulling out. He ducked his head as it drove past. A few seconds later, Chandler jumped in.
“Go,” Chandler panted.
Just as Jack was about to pull out, a car rolled up beside him and stopped, blocking them in.
“What the hell?” Jack said. He honked his horn.
The woman driving scowled and pointed to the parking space behind Jack.
“She’s parallel parking behind us,” Chandler said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Move, lady.”
As soon as the woman backed up enough for Jack to squeeze through, he did.
“Michael’s car is stopped at the light,” Chandler said, craning his neck out the window. “It’s only three cars ahead of us. But there are three cars ahead of him. I hope it’s not a quick light.”
But it was a quick light. When it changed to green, only four cars got through before it changed back to red. Michael got through, and Jack and Chandler were stuck.
Jack laid on the horn. “Damn.” He let fly with a steady stream of swears.
“Now you sound like Aunt Haddie,” Chandler joked.
“Shut up.” Jack stuck his head out the window, searching the cars and traffic ahead. “We’ll never find him now.” Jack rubbed both hands down his face. “This sucks. The first time I tail a car, and I lose him. Damn.”
“Maybe he’s going back to Fairfield?”
“No. The highway’s to the left. He went straight.”
When they finally made it through the intersection, they drove straight, peering down the side roads, but the silver Toyota was nowhere in sight. Jack rolled to a stop at another light.
“Well, where to now?” Chandler asked.
The light turned green, and Jack hesitated. The car behind him beeped.
“You gonna go?” Chandler said.
Jack stomped on the gas and banged a U-turn. Horns blared all around.
Chandler grabbed the dashboard. “Hey! What are you doing?”
“Did you notice anything when you followed Michael?”
Chandler took off his hat and wiped his brow. “No.”
Jack headed back the way they’d come. “I bet he’s sleeping with the blonde.”
“What? What blonde?”
“There was a woman at the bistro. The way she looked at him as he passed. And he looked at her. They know each other but didn’t acknowledge it. Not a wave or anything.”
“Then how do you know they know each other?”
“Remember when we got kicked out of the Charlie Horse?”
“Because of you,” Chandler said.
“Yes, but… before the act began, I told you that the hypnotist and the guy in the red shirt were in cahoots.”
“And you were right. The whole thing was a setup. The guy in the red shirt was a plant.”
“Yeah. Well, that wasn’t a lucky guess on my part. The hypnotist was mingling around the club, remember? I watched him. Him and that guy—they exchanged a look. Just like Michael and the blonde. They know each other.”