The Wanted by Robert Crais

Author:Robert Crais
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2017-12-26T05:00:00+00:00

PART III

THE GIRL WHO WANTED SOMETHING ELSE

25

ELVIS COLE

MY LOFT WAS BRIGHT with lavender light when I woke. The cat was curled by my head, snoring so softly he might have been purring. He smelled of damp earth and rosemary. Once, I woke to a squirrel’s head. Another time, a gopher. He meant well, but he’s a cat.

I was enjoying the lavender light when my phone buzzed. Chen.

“Get anything?”

“A couple of partial casts and some pictures. Thin, really shallow impressions, barely three-D, but I got some clean edges. Thank the drought. Dirt was hard as a table.”

“Same shoes in Pacoima?”

“Gotta run the pix through the computer, and get my hands on the Pacoima impressions, since, you know, Pacoima isn’t my case.”

“Thanks, John. Let me know.”

“One thing I can tell you. Dude was big, for sure. Size fourteens.”

One big, one bigger.

“One pair of shoes, or two?”

“On the face, one. One guy entered through the window and let in the other through a door. These guys know what they’re doing.”

“Because one guy let in the other?”

Chen laughed.

“New shoes. As in, fresh out-the-box new. And the dude was gloved. I found finger smudges on the window, but no characteristics within the smudges, like his fingertips were blank. You see this with vinyl gloves.”

“I don’t get the new shoe business.”

“You walk around, step on stuff, the heel gets nicked, the sole picks up dings and cuts. A pattern develops, right? It’s called a Schallamach pattern. And since no two people walk exactly alike, the Schallamach on your shoe is unique to you.”

“Like a fingerprint.”

“Yeah. Brand-new shoes, fresh out the box, are like fingerprints with only a couple of swirls. New shoes don’t give you much to compare.”

One big, one bigger, and now they were smart.

I hung up, feeling glum, but a message from Matt Simms made me feel better. Files on the eighteen known burglary victims were attached. Then an email from Carla Ellis arrived with the billing information for Amber’s number. I felt like I was on a roll until I saw that the name on the account wasn’t Amber. Carla had sent the email an hour ago, so I decided to call.

Carla was breathing hard when she answered. Music blared and people shouted behind her. Spin class.

Carla said, “Hang on. I can’t hear.”

When she spoke again the music was muffled.

“Did you get it?”

“I was expecting a different name. You sure this is right?”

“If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have sent it. Stupid.”

You see how she is?

“Nora Gurwick?”

“Correct. The account is paid on a Visa card bearing the same name, with the Palisades address as the current billing.”

Nora Gurwick. Not Amber.

“Any other names on the account?”

“Uh-uh. Five other numbers for a total of six, but only the one name. It’s a commercial account. Accounts like this, the phones are used by employees or family members.”

Nora was probably Amber’s mother.

“Looks good, Carla. Thanks.”

“Giants or Cards, behind the net. Aisle.”

“Got a hot dog with your name on it.”

Carla said, “Ho ho. I’ve heard about your little weenie.

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