Free Bones Are Forever by Kathy Reichs Page A

Approached from the direction of the apartment, which was under a mile away. Left heading the same way.”
    “What about local stores, libraries, anywhere else they might have caught her?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Ruben have friends or relatives locally?”
    “Other than Trees, the landlord, and one snoopy neighbor, no one seems to know she existed.”
    “She wasn’t working the streets?”
    “Not that anyone knows, but she had to have some means of support.”
    “Meaning she has no arrest record in Quebec.”
    “Zip. Maybe the learning curve in Alberta paid off.”
    “You checked likely aliases?”
    Ryan just looked at him.
    “The Edmonton PD nailed Ruben twice for soliciting,” Ollie said. “She vanished right after the second pop.”
    “In 2008,” I said.
    “That skews right with the landlord’s time line,” Ryan said. “Paxton claims Ruben and a guy named Smith took occupancy about three years ago.”
    “He retain contact information for Smith?”
    “Not even a first name.”
    “What could he tell you?”
    “They were grand tenants. Didn’t complain about the plumbing. Paid cash in advance.”
    “Where’s Smith now?”
    “In the wind.”
    “You try running him to ground?”
    “Hadn’t thought of that.”
    Ollie’s lower lids pinched up slightly at Ryan’s sarcasm. “Smith have a job? A car? A cell phone?”
    “You want to run Smith, first name unknown, age unknown,physical description unavailable, be my guest.” Ryan flapped a hand at one of the computer terminals behind him.
    There was a moment of tense silence. I broke it.
    “You think Smith could be the high-rolling john Ruben intended to meet at the Days Inn? Maybe he talked her into heading east with him?”
    “Nice of her to drop a line to the loving roommates back home.” Ryan shook his head in disgust.
    “Did Forex ever get a look at this john?”
    “No.”
    “Where are Forex and Santofer now?” I asked Ollie.
    “Santofer OD’d last year, so she’s out of the picture. Forex is still living at the same address. She owns the place.”
    “You got surveillance on it?” Ryan asked.
    “Hadn’t thought of that.” Ollie shot Ryan’s sarcasm right back at him.
    “Any reason to suspect Ruben might have returned to Alberta?” I asked. “That may be her pattern. Leave town when things get hot. She knows people in Edmonton. It’s within her comfort zone.”
    “Right.” Ryan snorted. “She motored west in her unlicensed Boxster. Or hired a limo and driver to take her cross-country.”
    “She could have hitchhiked.” Terse. Ryan’s attitude was grating on me, too.
    “If so, we’ll nail her. Every cop shop in Canada has her mug shot.”
    “She has a dog.” Why the hell did I keep dwelling on that?
    “People thumb it with pets.” Ollie’s eyes were hard on Ryan.
    Ryan spoke without smiling. “Charley the poodle.”
    “Steinbeck didn’t hitchhike,” I snapped. “He had a trailer.”
    Ollie looked from Ryan to me, alert to an undertone he didn’t understand and didn’t like. He was about to speak when the mobile on his belt buzzed. He yanked it free and checked the caller ID. “Gotta take this.” Rising to his feet.
    Ryan arced an arm toward the interview rooms.
    Ollie circled the desk and disappeared through the first door.
    Tense moments passed during which Ryan stared at his shoes. Finally, I could take it no longer. “Do you have a problem with me, Detective?”
    Ryan pushed from the desk to pace away. Paced back. Finally, “Let’s just close this case.”
    I was opening my mouth to ask his meaning when Ollie reappeared. His expression suggested good news. “You may have been dead-on, Tempe.”
    Ryan tensed at Ollie’s use of my first name.
    “She’s in Edmonton,” Ollie went on.
    “Ruben?” I was stunned.
    “She was just spotted at a Tim Hortons a few miles east of downtown. The place is about a kilometer off the TransCanada.”
    “Now what?”
    “Now the party moves to my town.”

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