The Stolen Girl Read online

  But Olivia pushed her away. She buried her head in her arms on the table and wept.

  Miranda watched them, her heart breaking all over again. Despite the progress, this investigation was starting to fall apart. There was too much emotion all around.

  She turned the sketch around on the table and took a picture of it with her phone. “I’ll see what Becker can do with this.”

  Before she could compose a message, her phone buzzed. Becker had sent the information he’d found on Axel Cage.

  Miranda scrolled through the text.

  Raised by his grandmother until age twelve. Upon her death was put into the foster care system. At eighteen, was assigned to a family in Sonoma, California. At nineteen, convicted of grand theft auto in Napa, sentenced to six months and probation. When the probation period ended, moved to Culver City, California. Possible affiliation with the Savage Skulls.

  A real winner.

  The addresses for two former residences were listed and the name of a car repair place where Axel had worked.

  Miranda touched Olivia’s arm.

  She stopped crying and raised her head. “What is it?”

  “Can you verify any of this?” She handed Olivia the phone.

  Her brow furrowed as she read the data. “Yes. All that’s true about Axel. It’s what he told me about his family. Or what passed for his family.”

  “What about those addresses?”

  She wiped her nose. “The first one is the apartment we lived in when we first came to LA. The second is the house.”

  “The one that was sold?”

  She nodded.

  “What about this? Better Than Good Auto and Transmission on West Washington?”

  “That’s where Axel used to work.”

  “As a mechanic?” It was a reasonable guess.

  “Yes. But he left that job about a year before we split up.”

  So there was nothing here they could use. Miranda took her phone back and texted Becker.

  Anything more recent? An address?

  After another minute her phone buzzed.

  Working on it.

  Maddening.

  She thumbed a message explaining Holloway’s sketch and how they’d gotten it, attached the photo, and asked Becker to run it through facial recognition.

  A moment later, a reply came.

  Not sure the software will work with a drawing.

  Try it anyway.

  Will do.

  Now that Olivia was calmer, Miranda pointed to the sketch again. “Are you sure you never saw a guy who looked like that when you were with Axel?”

  Olivia studied it hard. She was trying. Miranda had to give her that.

  But after another minute she sat back, rubbing her arms. “I didn’t see many of the people Axel hung around. We didn’t socialize. I mostly stayed at home back then. I watched TV, went shopping, cooked, did the laundry.”

  And was generally miserable, Miranda thought. She knew what that kind of life was like, never knowing when hubby was coming home. And when he did, whether you’d get a kiss or a smack across the face.

  Olivia picked up the sketch. “Imogen knows not to talk to strangers.”

  Somehow this guy made her trust him. Probably offered her a puppy.

  Now what? Her great lead had turned out to be another dead end.

  Just then, Holloway’s stomach grumbled.

  Looking embarrassed, he shrugged. “Sorry. Fast metabolism.”

  Parker touched Miranda’s arm. “Why don’t we have lunch and talk over what to do next?”

  She didn’t want to eat. She wanted to find Imogen. But she also had a team to think about.

  With a weary sigh, she brushed the hair away from her face. “Okay. Do you need anything?” she said to Olivia.

  “No. Tennille went to get sandwiches an hour ago. We already ate.”

  Miranda looked at her phone. It was past two-thirty. No wonder Holloway was hungry.

  “We’ll keep you posted.”

  As the team headed out the back Wesson gave her sister a hug. “Don’t worry, Livvy. We’re going to find her.”

  Olivia only stared down at the floor.

  “She’s right,” Miranda added. “We’ve got a lead now. It’s only a matter of time.”

  But as she turned and caught up to Parker at the door, she knew in her heart she was lying.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They drove around for a while. Deciding to pass on Chef Frost’s place on Melrose, they ended up at another fancy place down the street.

  The four of them sat around a circular table with a nice view of the street through tall windows. The soft music soothed Miranda nerves a bit, and the smell of garlic and fresh herbs in the air was reviving her appetite.

  She studied the menu, and rose a brow at the array of salads and veggie dishes. Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, quinoa, and the ubiquitous kale.

  “Lots of vegan dishes,” she murmured.

  “It’s the thing now in Weho,” Wesson told her.

  “Weho?”

  “Slang for West Hollywood.”

  That was right. Wesson used to live here, too. “Was your boutique near this area?”

  Wesson ordered and closed her menu. “It was in Glendale. I had no idea Olivia had moved here.”

  “Maybe you we could swing by and visit your old place. Didn’t you have a partner?”

  She shook her head. “Diana sold the shop a couple years ago.”

  “Oh?”

  “She met someone and they decided to go live off the grid somewhere in Montana.”

  “Nice.” She’d been trying to cheer Wesson up a little, but had only succeeded in making her sadder.

  The food came quickly. Miranda had a spicy chicken paillard with red quinoa, artichokes, and chia seeds. Wesson had selected salmon with eggplant, olives, and onions. Holloway had a pizza with squash, kale and avocado. Parker had a veal milanese, which was simply breaded meat, with eggplant and wild arugula on the side.

  The food was good. Elegantly prepared and delicious, it definitely met Parker’s standards, but Miranda found herself wishing for a raw jalapeno to gnaw on. As she stared out the window at the pedestrians trotting along the sidewalk, she wondered if any of them were celebrities. Not that she’d recognize them. She wondered how Wendy would react if she were here. Even Mackenzie might get excited if she knew her mother was in West Hollywood.

  She was thinking about texting her daughter when she caught Parker studying her with a knowing look.

  She wiped her mouth. “This dish could use some hot peppers.”

  He gave her an indulgent smile. “Do you think you might like to go back to the hotel and rest while we wait for Dave’s results?”

  Rest? As much as she’d love to stretch out on that big bed in their room with Parker, she knew she’d never relax. And neither would Wesson.

  “There’s got to be a way to find that guy in Holloway’s sketch,” she told him.

  Parker sat back with a bland expression. “The area of Los Angeles is more than five hundred square miles. Its population is almost four million.”

  Yeah, it wasn’t as if they could go door-to-door.

  She watched Wesson swallow a huge bite of salad.

  She looked up at her. “I eat when I’m upset. Wish I didn’t. I can’t help it.” She shoveled another forkful into her pretty mouth.

  “I’m not judging.”

  “So what’s our plan, Steele?” Holloway wanted to know. He’d scarfed down his exotic veggie pizza in record time. All that remained on the flat aluminum plate was a few organic crumbs from the crust.

  “Let me see your sketch again.”

  He took it out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her.

  She studied the lines he’d drawn. The scraggly hair, the narrow face, the muscular arms, the surly look in the eyes.

  Wesson watched her then pushed her empty plate away. “That picture is creepy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “He
’s got to be in the same gang as Axel,” Wesson said.

  Miranda wasn’t so sure. “We can’t assume that.”

  “Why not?”

  Parker cleared his throat. “Did the little boy notice any gang colors on the subject’s clothing?”

  Holloway shook his head. “He was too fascinated with the guy’s dragon tattoos.”

  Wesson pointed to the sketch. “He looks like a gang member. He could be working for Axel.”

  “He might not even know Axel.”

  Wesson raised her palms. “How would he know about Imogen? This can’t be random.”

  Wesson wasn’t thinking clearly. It could very well be random. Somebody noticed Olivia’s shop and assumed she had tons of money. He watched the shop and saw her kid getting off the bus every day. He formed a plan and executed it.

  But why hadn’t he asked for money yet?

  “So what are we going to do?” Holloway said again.

  Miranda tapped her fingers on the table. All they had to go on was Olivia’s old address and the place where Axel used to work.

  It was a start.

  “Let’s go check out the house where Olivia used to live with her ex.”

  She got to her feet and everyone else got ready to leave while Parker picked up the tab.

  As they reached the door, Parker murmured in her ear. “I’m glad you had Chia seeds for lunch.”

  “Why?”

  “Chia means ‘strength.’ Mayan warriors once claimed the seeds gave them power.” His gray eyes glistened.

  Miranda had to laugh. How did he know that? The same way he knew everything. “Let’s hope they give all of us some of that.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  After bundling back into the Navigator, Miranda and her intrepid troupe made their way eastward.

  Parker took Santa Monica to Wilshire and cruised through Beverly Hills, though Miranda didn’t see any swimming pools and movie stars. They must have been hidden behind the palm trees.

  He turned and got onto the 405, hitting the early rush hour. They inched along in silence, frustration mounting in the car. She’d never complain about the traffic in Atlanta again, she vowed, staring out the windows at the shops and buildings as they slowly morphed from chic and trendy to ordinary to old and worn down.

  Was she wasting everyone’s time? Maybe she should have taken Parker up on that nap.

  By the time they reached Culver City and turned into a local neighborhood, she had a full-fledged headache.

  Off Inglewood near the community service center they found Axel Cage’s old address. The house sat at the end of a street lined with small homes and fenced-in yards, many with iron bars on the windows and doors.

  It was a small place, painted a cheery yellow with a red brick façade. Looked well taken care of.

  Two Hispanic boys stood in the front yard tossing a baseball back and forth. They couldn’t have been much over twelve.

  Parker pulled over to the curb a few houses away and stopped the car. He said nothing, waiting for her to make the call.

  What to do? Go door-to-door here? Would that do any good?

  While Miranda was mulling it over, a pale green Honda drove past them and pulled into the drive of the house next door to Olivia and Axel’s old place.

  After a moment, a woman in her sixties emerged. She opened her trunk with her key fob and headed to the back of the car.

  An idea popped into Miranda’s head. “Holloway, with me.”

  With her artistic colleague behind her, she jumped out of the Navigator and crossed the lawn just as the woman pulled out a gallon of milk.

  “Excuse me, ma’am.”

  The woman turned and eyed her with a narrow look. Her short hair was an iron gray and she had on pale blue denim slacks and a sleeveless knit top with slim blue-and-orange stripes. Her skin was leathery and her arms were covered with freckles.

  “Can I help you?” she asked in a deep smoker’s voice.

  “Have you lived here a long time?”

  She scowled. “Who wants to know?”

  Miranda pointed toward the house next door. “I’m wondering if you knew the couple who used to live over there.”

  The woman stared at her with a suspicious glare in her dark eyes.

  Miranda thought fast. “I went to high school with the woman. Olivia Wesson. Did you know her?”

  The woman continued to glare.

  Picking up on the ruse, Holloway touched her arm. “C’mon, honey. I told you not to bother the neighbors.”

  Now it was Miranda’s turn to glare. But she made it brief and turned back to the neighbor.

  “I haven’t seen her in years. She gave me this address. I guess she moved.” She slumped her shoulders and pouted a little.

  Still looking suspicious, the woman reached for a bag of groceries. “If you mean the young blond woman who lived with that gang banger, they moved away years ago.”

  Bingo. “Did they? I should have called Olivia. I’ve been meaning to for years, but you know how life gets in the way. Do you know where she went?”

  “Not a clue. But I hope she wised up and left that jerk.”

  “Oh?”

  “Things could get pretty noisy over there. I heard screaming a number of times.”

  Miranda’s stomach twisted inside her. “She was fighting with her husband?”

  “He wasn’t her husband. They were living together. He was in some motorcycle gang. A few times, him and his buddies congregated out in the street. Made a hell of a noise.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, where did he go? Is he in jail or something?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. She moved out and he put the house up for sale. It’s changed hands several times. There’s a nice quiet family living there now.”

  “He was here by himself before the house sold?”

  She nodded. “Had some noisy parties with those friends of his. I was glad when they left.”

  “Did he move down the street?”

  “I would have heard him if he had. Like I said, I don’t know where he went.” She closed her trunk and pressed her key fob to lock her car. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get this milk inside before it sours.”

  Without saying goodbye, she marched up the drive and into her house.

  Miranda’s shoulders slumped for real this time. She stared down the street.

  “Guess we’ve eliminated one block,” Holloway muttered.

  “Yeah.”

  They returned to the Navigator.

  “Any luck?” Parker asked, though he already knew the answer.

  Miranda gave him a smirk. “Let’s drive around a bit.”

  Parker turned the car around and cruised down the street to the main road. When the traffic cleared, he crossed it and drove down a street with another set of homes similar to the ones they had just left. Stucco, wood, brick. Picture windows. Small lawns.

  Parker went around the block, turned at the light, and crossed into another neighborhood. More cozy little houses.

  A man walking a dog along the sidewalk. Another dog barking behind a chain link fence. Pickup trucks, palm trees, and hedges. A woman dragging her trash can up her driveway.

  Ordinary people living their ordinary lives. With their ordinary secrets.

  No one looked like Axel or the mysterious man in Holloway’s sketch. She didn’t see a motorcycle anywhere.

  After another half hour, she leaned her head back and groaned. “This is hopeless.”

  “Like watching paint dry,” Holloway muttered from the backseat.

  Parker’s voice cut through the silence. “I trust you all remember how patience was stressed in your training.”

  His remark was met by more silence.

  He turned to Miranda and lowered his voice. “We can try the auto repair shop.”

  She had been saving that, but if Parker thought this neighborhood cruise was an exercise in futility, might as well go
there now.

  She nodded to him. “All right. Let’s head that way.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Back out on the main road traffic was growing heavier. They drove into an area with stand alone businesses, office buildings, and an occasional motel. There were a few strip malls, as well, and apartment buildings, which the team scrutinized as they passed, finding nothing of interest.

  Parker slowed as they neared a white brick building on a corner. Miranda spotted the cocky name in bold red letters on a big white sign.

  Better Than Good Auto and Transmission.

  Miranda pointed to a road. “Turn down there.”

  “Just what I was about to do.” Parker pulled onto the narrow side street running beside the auto repair shop.

  As they passed the place, Miranda peered into the open bays where mechanics were working. She couldn’t see much in the shadows.

  “Shall we stop?” Parker asked.

  “Yeah.” An idea was forming in her mind.

  Parker drove down a bit, made a neat three-point turn and headed back toward the shop. About fifty feet away, he pulled over to the curb.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  She tapped her fingers on her lap. “There’s a chance Axel might have come back to work here.”

  Parker nodded. “Or someone might remember him.”

  Time for some play-acting. Miranda turned around to Wesson. “Do you think Axel would recognize you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Want to go undercover?”

  She grinned. “Do I ever. And just in case—”

  She reached into her bag and pulled out a tan canvas sunhat and tucked her thick red hair up under it. A pair of sunglasses completed the look.

  Miranda grinned. “Perfect. You two gentlemen cover us ladies.”

  “As you wish,” Parker said, a note of pride in his tone.

  With the tint on the windows, he and Holloway wouldn’t be seen, especially at this distance. And Parker had just the right viewing angle if anything went south. Of course, that was just extra precaution. She and Wesson could handle themselves.

  She got out of the car, waited for Wesson to emerge, and the two ladies headed for the shop through a gate in the chain link fence.