“I don’t have a clue what was happening with her. I’ve only been here a few days. When I arrived, needing a place to stay, Miranda asked if I wanted to take over her business. She claimed to be leaving to get married.”
“What about her other relatives? She might be with them.”
“No. I’m her only relative except for some really distant cousins. Her parents were killed in an auto accident. If my mother hadn’t taken Miranda in, she would have gone into foster care.”
Adam touched her shoulder. His hand felt warm and reassuring. “It’s damn hard to disappear without a trace. I suspect your cousin will be easy to track down.” He stood up. “While the grill’s heating, let’s go upstairs to the office. I’ll get on my computer and see what I can find out.”
Whitney followed him up the wide curved stairway. Jasper scampered along beside him. She kept Lexi, Maddie and Da Vinci with her on leashes. After last night, she wasn’t taking any chances. She had to wait at the top of each step for the smaller dogs to scramble up beside Lexi.
Inside the wood-paneled office, Adam went to a laptop computer that was already open on the desk with a screensaver of crashing waves on it. Jasper hopped up onto his lap. Whitney settled into a chair next to the desk and the dogs clustered around her feet.
“At work we use Total Track. It’s a service that collects personal information like credit card activity, bank accounts, court records and DMV registrations. Let’s see what it has on Miranda Marshall. Does she have a middle name?”
“Leighton.” Whitney spelled the family name Miranda’s mother had given her cousin. “Isn’t a lot of this information private?”
“It’s supposed to be, but in this computer age, there’s virtually nothing that’s totally confidential. The Total Track guys got into the business by going to courthouses every day and recording info that was public record. Court records like DUIs and even prison sentences aren’t entered into a computer every day. Understaffing is common and it can be weeks before they input the info. Total Track immediately chases down those reports and sells their service. It’s expensive but it became a hit right away. A lot of smaller police departments use them because they don’t have the manpower to keep up with all the information that’s out there.”
“I see.” Whitney wondered what info they had on her.
“Okay. Here’s your cousin’s screen.” He glanced over at her. “She has two credit cards and they’re paid off. No activity on either one in three weeks.” He touched another key, then frowned at the screen.
“What is it?”
“She closed her Wells Fargo checking account a week ago and withdrew the three-hundred-and-twenty-seven dollar balance. Her car’s paid for and her other two credit card accounts at Nordstrom’s and Macy’s have been closed.”
“So all Miranda has is a little cash and two credit cards.”
“Looks like that’s it. But she hasn’t used the cards. Existing anywhere for a period of time on less than three hundred dollars is difficult.”
“She might have had more cash with her.” Whitney tried to recall exactly what Miranda had told her. “Some of her clients paid in cash. She told me to offer new clients a discount for cash.”
“If you receive cash,” he said, “and don’t report it, you keep those earnings off the IRS radar screen, but it’s illegal.”
“I know, but it means she might have more cash with her than it appears.” Whitney replied with a shake of her head. Her cousin had always been one to play the angles. “The question is, where is Miranda? And why did she just disappear?”
“From what you’ve told me, I suspect she had this planned for some time. She knows enough not to use her credit cards.”
“I think anyone would know that. Just watch television. The second someone goes missing, police look to see if their credit cards have been used.”
“True. Probably the best way to track her is to focus on the car. You’d be surprised how many fugitives get parking tickets or are pulled over for a missing taillight or some minor violation. It goes into the system and bingo-we know where they are.”
“If nothing happens, we may never find her.”
Adam shook his head. “Possibly, but I doubt it. It’s harder to disappear than you’d think.” He tapped a few keys on the computer. “I’m checking the Highway Patrol database. They gather all the information from local authorities for Homeland Security. Since 9/11, law enforcement has become very interested in all sorts of vehicles that could be used by terrorists especially since San Diego sits on the border.” He let out a low whistle. “I’ll be damned. A hit!”
She jumped up and looked over his shoulder at the screen. She saw a license-plate number followed by: Location-metered parking at Lindbergh Field.
“Miranda’s car is in the airport lot. She left it at a meter that’s expired. Does she have friends she might have flown to visit?”
She slowly shook her head. “Friends? I don’t know. Since she’s lived here from the time she was fifteen, you would think all her friends would be local.”
Adam picked up the telephone and dialed a number. “Gus?” he said after waiting several rings. “It’s Adam Hunter.”
She watched him while he listened to something Gus was saying. Then he said, “I need a favor. Could you check security lists at Lindbergh and see if a Miranda Leighton Marshall boarded a plane? If you find her name, let me know where she went.”
Adam’s voice was a low rumble that Whitney found very intriguing. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she couldn’t help remembering last night. She wanted to be in his arms again, but she reminded herself not to rush things. Slow down. Her life was complicated enough with Miranda missing.
Adam listened a moment, then said, “Nah. I haven’t lost a girlfriend.” He winked at her and she couldn’t help smiling back. “Miranda’s family is worried about her. I told them I would check.” He listened again. “Thanks, Gus.” Adam gave him his telephone number then hung up.
“You think she left the country?” Whitney asked.
“That’s a possibility, since she doesn’t seem to have friends or relatives she could visit.” He logged off his computer, put Jasper on the floor and stood up. “If she bought a ticket, she had to show ID or her passport. It’ll be in the records. Gus will find it. He’s SDPD’s point man with Homeland Security.”
“I can’t imagine where she’d go,” Whitney said, bewildered.
Adam slipped his arm around her shoulders and guided her out of the room. “The grill’s ready. Those steaks are waiting. There’s nothing we can do until Gus checks and calls back.”
She maneuvered to avoid tripping over the three dogs on leashes hovering at her feet. “How long do you think that will be?”
“Gus said he has time tonight. He checks info that comes in from the border crossing with Mexico. It’s a slow night because it’s raining south of Tijuana.”
Whitney stayed in the kitchen to assemble the salad. It didn’t take much work. Adam had bought bagged lettuce, a tomato and a cucumber. He’d also bought blue cheese dressing. Not a fat-free choice but she guessed after his time in Iraq, he wasn’t counting calories.
She thought about the way he kept looking at her while he’d been on the computer and talking to his friend. When she’d first met Adam, he’d been so…so stoic. It was almost as if he wouldn’t allow anything to touch him. He didn’t want to be bothered to think or feel. Now he seemed to be coming back to life by degrees.
Had something happened to him?
She suddenly wanted to know everything about him. Her emotions had been chafed raw by her experience with Ryan. She hadn’t asked enough questions. She’d fallen for him and believed love could make up for the quirks in Ryan’s personality.
Ryan had been great in bed but he’d always been emotionally unavailable. She smiled to herself as she sliced the cucumber. “Emotionally unavailable” was a term she’d heard on some self-help talk show. The minute she’d heard it, Whitney knew it fit her husband.