Chapter 9

Although the hum of the road lulled Goren into sleep, Alex couldn't afford to get so relaxed. She found a radio station playing 70's music and mentally sang along. When she saw the signs for I-95, she shook his arm.

He stretched as best he could and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Then he navigated her in to the precinct that had processed the sightings. By some miracle, there was a Starbucks across the street from the police station. While Bobby dug his binder out of the back seat, she ran across the road and bought them each a venti.

Once they were settled inside, they got the written reports of the statements and reviewed them. Bobby asked the local detective about the neighborhood. "Many kids there? Girls?"

"Yeah, it's pretty popular with the kids. Movie theater, fast food, you know."

"Drugs? Guns?"

"Some drugs. One gun shop, been there forever. Pawn shops, too. And a couple tattoo parlors."

"Our guy, he doesn't know anybody. We don't think he has much money, either."

"Youth Hostel, on Vine Street. I'll get you a map," he said, and walked off.

Bobby looked over at his partner. "He's going to go where he's comfortable, where he's accepted. Other teens won't pick up on… on his… mental state, assuming he's with it enough to function."

"Which he probably is or he wouldn't have escaped the city."

Bobby agreed. "He's pinching pennies. It's a long way to Florida, if that's where he's headed."

The officer returned and handed Bobby a paper print out of a Newark map. It was a close-up of only this side of town. "You see anything, you give us a call," he said, handing Alex his card.

"You bet," Alex said. She finished off her coffee and chucked the cup into the trash. She didn't notice Bobby's cup left behind on the detective's desk. They made a pit stop before they left, and Alex found herself milling around by the front door, waiting for him.

"Sorry," he said when he finally came out to join her.

"You up for this?" She asked.

He nodded.


The young woman saw them come in. She hopped up off the couch, where she was watching a movie, and went around behind the counter. Alex and Bobby shared a look before stepping over to talk to her. They showed their shields, and Bobby held out the artists' sketch. "Have you seen this man?"

She furrowed her brow. "I think so. Looks like a guy who stayed here last night." She looked up at them. "He's not here, though. He went out pretty early this morning." She stepped out from behind the counter and motioned for them to follow her. They went up the stairs of the old house and into a room full of bunk beds, some with people sleeping in them.

The woman whispered. "Looks like he left his bag." She pointed to a duffel that lay on the last bunk.

Bobby picked it up and carried it over to a chair that was near a window. He unzipped it and went through it carefully. Then he replaced it on the bunk. They walked back downstairs, and thanked the woman. She sat back down to her movie and Bobby and Alex conferred in the doorway.

"All summer clothes."

"He's not planning to stay around here for long. It's supposed to get down into the 50's next week," she said.

"There was a magazine, " he said. "Arizona Highways."

"Shit."

"We can call the local, stake out this place. Maybe he'll come back for his bag."

"If he hasn't already seen us," she said, and they walked out.


Alex left Bobby in the diner across the street and went to swap their NY-plated car for a local rental. He had the local PD for back-up, so she knew he'd be fine. He ordered a cup of coffee, and carefully sipped from the mug, his eyes on the window. He laid a fiver down on the table and took another sip.

The waitress wanted to make small talk. He tried to be kind, but came off short. He couldn't make chit-chat, he had work to do. Just before she went back to the kitchen, Bobby asked for a piece of toast.

"White or wheat?" She asked.

His eyes went back to the window. "Wheat."

He managed to eat two bites of it before he caught sight of Corey on the opposite sidewalk. Bobby burst out of the place and ran full speed across the street. The Jersey cops followed his lead. Corey hopped a fence and raced into an alley. Bobby scaled the fence and ran down the alley after him.

With his long stride, Bobby caught up to him. He tackled him easily and restrained him until the local cops came and stuffed him into a patrol car. When Alex arrived, he was sitting on someone's back stoop, trying to catch his breath and stop shaking. She squatted in front of him and smiled.

"Good work, Bobby." She didn't say anything about how he looked, just continued to watch him.

He nodded and lowered his head between his legs, hands back behind his ears. "I think I gotta eat something," he said.

She got some crackers from one of the Jersey cops and handed them to him, along with a bottle of water. After a few bites and a drink, he sat up a little straighter. "Look," said Alex, "why don't you catch a ride with one of these guys. I'll meet you over there."

He nodded and she helped him up and into the front seat of a waiting cruiser. Her hand lingered on his arm for just a moment before she shut his door.