Free Goodbye Sister Disco by James Patrick Hunt Page B

station manager shift in his seat.
    Judy Chen said, “Yes.”
    Kubiak said, “Do you think that was smart?”
    â€œI don’t know what the law is,” Judy Chen said. “But I don’t regret doing that.”
    Gabler said, “Why not?”
    Hastings was listening a little closer now. He expected the woman to excuse it by saying she didn’t want to risk the Penmark girl’s life by not following their instructions. It would be a rational excuse, though Hastings probably wouldn’t have bought it.
    But Judy Chen didn’t say that. What she said was, “Because I had a feeling that whoever was calling me was watching me too.”
    For a moment, no one said anything. Kubiak looked briefly at Gabler and even at Hastings before he turned his attention back to the woman.
    Kubiak said, “Why do you think that?”
    â€œI don’t know. The way he said ‘turn around’ and then seemed to know that I had.”
    â€œDid you see anyone?”
    â€œNo. But I was parked near my apartment. I mean, he could have been anywhere.”
    â€œBut you didn’t—”
    â€œI just felt someone was watching me.”
    Hastings said, “Did it frighten you?”
    She looked down at the table at Hastings, her weighted expression not the one she wore in the magazine photo.
    â€œYes,” she said. “Very much.”
    â€œAnd yet,” Kubiak said, “you still didn’t call the authorities.”
    Her expression changed again. Hardened. She said, “Sir, the man knew where I lived and what I drove. Knew who I am. Knows. I’m cooperating with you now and I haven’t broken any laws.”
    â€œThat’s debatable, Ms. Chen,” Kubiak said. “And how are we to know that this fear you’re describing isn’t just an act?”
    â€œBecause I’m telling you the truth.”
    Craig Kubiak smiled at the woman then. It was the sort of cold, superior smile that drives people to hate cops and managers and lawyers. It was working on Hastings now too, because he could see that the woman was seething and there was now a real danger that she would clam up on them.
    Hastings could also see that she was no pushover. And that she would not hesitate at all to get a lawyer and make things difficult. Which would be a hardship for him and the feds. Unnecessary, but inevitable if this clod weren’t so intent on pushing her. Kubiak was probably attracted to the woman and blaming her for it. Or he was just a fool. In any event, the woman was about one step away from ending the interview.
    Hastings leaned forward, his body language conciliatory. He said to Judy Chen, “We believe you are telling the truth. I’m sorry if we’ve been misunderstood.”
    From the corner of his eye, Hastings detected a scowl on Agent Kubiak’s face. Hastings said, “Our beef is not with you. I know you understand that.”
    Hastings waited for her to give him a nod. Which she did. Good.
    Hastings said, “The goal for everybody involved is to get the girl back safe. That’s what Agent Kubiak wants.”
    â€œOf course,” the station manager said. He seemed a little relieved now. Judy Chen was looking wary, but it was an improvement over cold fury.
    Hastings said, “Your car, where is it now?”
    Judy Chen said, “It’s in the parking garage.”
    â€œHas anyone touched it since you drove here this morning?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWe’re going to have to have some technicians go over it. Obviously, the man or men who planted that tape got into your vehicle, and we’re going to have to look for prints and hairs and, you know, technical stuff. Now, we’ll be glad to get you home by cab or police escort while we’re using your car. Would that be okay with you?”
    â€œYes.”
    Hastings knew that if it wasn’t, they could still seize it. At least temporarily. But she could make