Read Without a Trace for Free Online Page B

contacted me. Flynn’s recorder had an automatic shutoff when he reached the end of the tape. The police hadn’t bothered with it. I did.” She linked her hands together as Trace lit a cigarette. “Ultimately I took the tape to Mr. Forrester. It was gone when I found him dead.”
    “How do you figure they know about you?”
    “They would only have to have read Flynn’s notes. It would have been recorded that I worked with him and took part of the project back with me.”
    “The men on the tape, they spoke English?”
    “Yes, accented … Mediterranean, I think, except for the one who laughed. He sounded Slavic.”
    “Anyone use a name?”
    “No.” On a deep breath, she ran both hands through her hair. “I listened to the tape dozens of times, hoping I might catch something. They said nothing about where they were taking him, only why.”
    “Okay.” Trace tipped back in his chair and blew smoke toward the ceiling. “I think we can get them out in the open.”
    “How?”
    “They want you, don’t they? Or the notes.” He was silent for a moment as he watched that sink in. “You said you had them with you. I didn’t find them in your bag.”
    The consideration in her eyes turned to indignation. “You looked through my belongings?”
    “Just part of the service. Where are they?”
    Gillian pushed away from the table to pace to the window. It seemed nothing was hers alone any longer. No part of her life could be private. “Mr. Forrester destroyed them.”
    “You told me you had them with you.”
    “I do.” She turned back and placed a fingertip to her temple. “Right here. With a true photographic memory, one sees words. If and when it becomes necessary, I can duplicate the notes.”
    “Then that’s what you’re going to do, Doc, with a few alterations.” He narrowed his eyes as he thought the plan through. It could work, but it all hinged on Gillian. “How are you fixed for guts?”
    She moistened her lips. “It’s not something I’ve had to test to any extent. But if you mean to use me as bait to find out where Flynn and Caitlin are being held, I’m willing.”
    “I don’t want any grand sacrifices.” He crushed out his cigarette before he rose and walked to her. “Do you trust me?”
    She studied him in the hard, brilliant light of the Mexican sun. He was scrubbed and shaven and, she realized, no less dangerous than the man she’d met in the cantina. “I don’t know.”
    “Then you’d better think it through, real careful.” He cupped a hand under her chin. “Because if you want to stay alive, you’re going to have to.”
    *   *   *
    It was a long, mostly silent drive to Uxmal. Trace had made certain everyone in the hotel knew they were going. He’d asked for brochures, gotten directions in both English and Spanish, then gone to the gift shop to buy another guidebook and some film. He’d asked the clerk about mileage, restaurants along the way and insect repellent. In general, he’d played the enthusiastic tourist and made a spectacle of himself.
    Anyone looking for Gillian would know she could be found at the ruins of Uxmal.
    The vegetation on either side of the road was thick and monotonous. The Jeep was canopied, but it didn’t have air-conditioning. Gillian drank bottled lemonade and wondered if she’d be alive for the drive back.
    “I don’t suppose we could have found someplace closer.”
    “Uxmal’s a natural tourist spot.” The road was straight and narrow. Trace kept an eye on the rearview mirror. “We’ll have some company, but not enough, I think, to put our friends off. Besides, one of the reasons I’m here is to check out the ruins.” If they were being followed, the tail was first-class. Trace shifted in his seat and adjusted his dark glasses. “It’s not as big or as popular as Chichén Itzá, but it’s the most impressive site onthe Puuc Route.”
    “I didn’t think a man like you would be interested in ancient civilizations and