Missing Persons by James Patterson

Author:James Patterson [Patterson, James & Hamdy, Adam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-29T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 45

IT WAS BITTERLY cold. Justine shivered as she and Sci walked along West 81st Street. They’d arrived in New York that morning, having caught the red-eye with Mo-bot. Jessie Fleming had met them at JFK and driven them to Private’s office at Forty-One Madison, a thirty-six-story black glass and steel skyscraper that stood on the corner of Madison Avenue and East 26th Street, overlooking Madison Park. Private New York was headquartered on the thirty-fifth and thirty-sixth floors, and they’d been given a meeting room that was to act as the base of operations for their investigation into the man posing as Beth Singer’s father.

“You’ve been pretty quiet,” Sci observed as they weaved around another couple heading along the icy sidewalk.

“Just thinking,” Justine replied.

“Pining?” Sci remarked with a knowing smile.

“No.” She elbowed him playfully.

In truth, she was worried about Jack. The thought of what he could be facing in Afghanistan was almost too much for her to bear, particularly after what had happened in Moscow. She’d insisted they come to New York, not just to be closer to the guy they were investigating, but because she wanted to be there the moment Jack stepped off the plane on his return.

She had tried not to worry and had focused on getting the local investigation up and running. She didn’t have Sci’s forensic skills or Mo-bot’s knowledge of computers, but as one of the country’s leading criminal profilers, Justine knew people.

“You don’t have to worry,” Sci said. “Jack knows how to take care of himself.”

“I’m not worried,” Justine replied, but that was less than the truth.

She wasn’t just worried about whether or not Jack would come home. Each of these major investigations took an emotional toll on him, and while it might remain hidden from others who only saw the confidence and bravado of a hero, she saw beneath the façade. The Moscow investigation had been particularly grueling, and even Jack acknowledged how much it had affected him. It wasn’t often that Jack Morgan benched himself. Justine knew Afghanistan already held traumatic memories for him. She prayed that he would not pay too high a psychological price for whatever was to come.

“If you say so,” Sci responded. “Although I’m a little offended that after all these years working together, you don’t think I’m smart enough to read you like a book.”

Justine elbowed him again.

“Cut it out,” he said. “Try to be professional. We’re almost there.”

Mo-bot had traced the cell phone Justine had called to contact Donald Singer to an apartment building on West 81st Street, one block from Central Park. Justine and Sci had volunteered to see if they could pin the phone to a specific apartment. It hadn’t moved since it had been taken into the building.

38 West 81st Street was a grand old building with a green awning that traversed the sidewalk. It was the kind of prime real estate foreign investors would pay a premium for. It was a short walk from the park, and apartments on the upper levels had balconies that overlooked the small playground in the broad West 81st Street median.

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