Deliverer

Chapter 16

Truman finished adding up all the jewels in the coffer, a nervous sweat breaking out across his forehead. He had almost three million here, if he could get to a buyer. He hardly dared leave the confines of his house, though. What if he were intercepted? Followed? McAllister might not recognize Truman's men, but if he had spies anywhere else, he'd find Truman.

He leaned back and chewed on his lower lip. None of that mattered, of course, if McAllister already knew where he was and was just biding his time to spring a trap.

Truman opened the desk drawer and flipped through a notepad. He only had one raid scheduled for this week, thanks to most of his men lallygagging around the border, looking for the missing girls.

The thought made Truman snarl, a flash of red anger blinding him. One week. One week with no sign. He wasn't ready to admit defeat, but he couldn't have his men parading around doing nothing for much longer. The girls hadn't gone to the authorities, they hadn't tried to call home, and they hadn't appeared at the border. Which left only a handful of options: either they were still in Canada somewhere, they were dead, or they were still making the journey.

His phone rang, and he glanced at Claber's name before answering. "Tell me you've got good news."

"Depends on what's good news," Claber said, a note of confidence in his voice. "Did Hastings call you?"

"No." Truman frowned. "Why?"

Claber hesitated just a moment, then said, "He found the girls."

Truman jumped to his feet. Hastings. He'd been surveying an entry point in Vermont. "Where is he now?"

"That's a very good question," Claber said. "Apparently Christof made his way out of the forest yesterday. He and Hastings met up. Then today they ran into the girls as they crossed the border into a city park."

Truman nodded. “So we know they're in America.” He paused. When Claber didn't continue, he prodded him, "But that doesn't tell me where Hastings is."

"I don't know. He wasn't able to apprehend them. They created a scene and ran off. He told me he was going to hunt them down before they could go to the police."

The information overwhelmed Truman, and he sank back behind the desk. "He found them. Then he lost them. And now he's hunting them. Do we have any agents at the local PD?"

"No. But Hastings told the girls the police are on our side. That should deter them."

Truman nodded. "Good. I'll call Hastings, find out if he has them."

"His phone's off. I can't reach him."

"Then I'll try Christof,” he snapped, losing patience with Claber’s constant need for direction. “In the meantime, get all the men to Vermont."

"On it. I’ve got Alfred with me. I’ll get the Bennett brothers and Sanders over here too."

At noon the call center called. "They used a phone to call Idaho,” Nigel said, “And I’ve got that address. I'm emailing it to you along with the message."

"Thank you," Truman said. "Let me know as soon as you get another." He opened the attachment and played the message. Truman listened while a teenage boy told Mrs. Rivera that the girls were going to Maryland.

Nothing more, but it was enough. Maryland. It gave him a definite trail to follow. He jabbed his finger at Claber's number.

“Yes?” Claber answered.

"The girls are going to Maryland," Truman said. "Realign your trajectories."

"I'm on it."

The girls couldn't hide now. The possibilities from Vermont to Maryland were minimal.