Wrong Light by Matt Coyle

Author:Matt Coyle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oceanview Publishing
Published: 2018-01-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY

CALEB? THE AUTISTIC Lansing brother with the lightning-quick fingers on the computer keyboard? Twisted came in all different kinds of packages, and autistic people were obsessive. But did he have the creative flourish to write the letter? Doubted it. Maybe the car Rudy Wayne saw on the security tape wasn’t a Corolla. Maybe it was, but not this one. Maybe the car in the Sonic parking lot had nothing to do with the disappearance of Alicia Alton.

Maybe it was time to stop thinking and act.

I followed Caleb out of the parking lot from a good distance. He turned onto Granite Ridge and then right onto Aero Drive like he was heading to Interstate 15. But he pulled into a parking lot before he made it to the I-15 exit.

McDonald’s. Where he and unnamed others from the business park probably had many meals. And walked right by the pay phone on their way to and from the restaurant. I parked in the back of the lot as Caleb pulled in behind three other cars in the drive-thu lane. He exited five minutes later and continued east on Aero until he got onto 15 South.

I’d expected him to head back to the office once I saw him go through the drive-thru. He couldn’t be going far with hot food. You can reheat McDonald’s fries, but I wouldn’t try it with their hamburgers.

Caleb went west on the 8 and then south on 805 and into South Park. He parked in the driveway of a remodeled mid-century modern home in a cul-de-sac on Nutmeg Street. I pulled to the curb on a slight hill a hundred yards back from the house. Caleb went inside, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he’d been tailed. But I’d already started to question Caleb’s obliviousness and lack of cunning. Maybe he wasn’t such an innocent, after all.

I called Detective Skupin for the third time that day and left another message. This call was to give him information instead of asking for some. He probably already knew the Corolla belonged to Caleb Lansing, but he hadn’t talked to Caleb like I had. At least not face-to-face.

I sat in my Accord and waited Caleb out. I couldn’t exactly kick down his door and demand he tell me where he was hiding Alicia Alton. Not without a lot more evidence. Even then, I didn’t have a badge. I did have a gun, though. And if it came down to saving the woman’s life, I’d use it. She was an innocent. And if Pluto had kidnapped her, she was my responsibility. Whether Pluto was Caleb Lansing or not.

I studied the house through my binoculars. Two stories, in a nice neighborhood of South Park, a quaint little community east of Balboa Park loaded with hip, independent businesses. The house sat above a forestry canyon and looked to have views of Balboa Park and Downtown San Diego.

Nice house for the autistic half of a brother team running a commercial security company. Maybe it was a family home.

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