Wrath commented, as he and Reaper followed, keeping their distance.
“Yeah. Most street kids are—when they can be. And if they’re not loners.”
“Like you were?” Wrath asked softly.
“Most of the time, I was,” Reaper replied. “That was just me.”
“Still is,” Wrath said. “Most of the time.”
* * * *
“I’ll pass the license-plate number and the guy’s description on to vice,” Dallas said once he and Zack were back at the car.
They’d already stashed the majority of their clothing disguises in the trunk.
“On what grounds?” Zack asked.
“That one of my informants told me someone had tried to grab his on again, off again girlfriend and she told him as much as she remembered about the bastard.”
“Better yet,” Zack said as he started the car, “run a search on the plate to find out who he is.”
Dallas nodded, but didn’t look happy. “And take care of him ourselves? All we have is the word of those kids that he’s the right man. There must be dozens of cars fitting the description of the one he drives.”
“With a missing hubcap?”
“Okay, that narrows the odds some, but with no proof…”
“Just find out who he is. We can figure out what to do afterward.”
With a sigh, Dallas said, “Yeah, okay, I’ll do it.”
Chapter Twelve
Since he was off on Thursday, Dallas didn’t get a chance to run the license plate until Friday. What he found out unsettled him. The car belonged to one Jeffery Kinsley, M.D. Dallas. He looked him up and found that the man was a plastic surgeon with offices in a very modern and very pricey high-rise building in one of the wealthier areas of the city. Another check told Dallas the car was one of three owned by the doctor. The other two were an MG and a Lexus, both this year’s.
So why drive the old one?
He shook his head at the stupidity of his question.
* * * *
“So that no one will think he’s anything more than a guy looking for a fast hookup,” Zack said several hours later when Dallas had given him the information. “Considering who he is, that’s not in the least surprising.”
“You know him?” Dallas asked.
“I know about him. He’s fairly prominent within his circle—family man, a large donor to some of the more prestigious charities, held in high regard by his colleagues. His list of patients includes the wives of some of my clients.”
“Then why the hell is he trying to abduct girls off the street?”
“That, my dear man, is the question.” Zack took a bite of his pasta, since they were eating dinner while having the discussion. He waved his fork at Dallas after a moment’s thought. “Do we have a home address for him? And as far as that goes, a photo or two? We do want to make certain he matches the description that Missy gave us, just so we know someone else in his household isn’t borrowing the car.”
“I have both. I emailed his driver’s license photo to myself.” He shook his head when Zack started to get up. “It’s not going anywhere. You can see it after dinner.”
“Don’t go all bossy on me,” Zack grumbled.
“Me?” Dallas chuckled when Zack nodded. “Question. If you know who he is, why don’t you already know what he looks like?”
“Because I’ve never actually met him. What I know, I’ve heard from my clients talking about him and from articles in the social section of the newspaper.”
“Okay. I know I’ve never run into him. But then, I doubt he’s the kind of person who makes it a habit to come into the Uptown district, except maybe to go through it to a downtown restaurant or the theater.”
“If we’re right, he comes there for something else as well. Does the man in the photo have a mustache and red hair?”
“Nope. Brown hair. However, he is in his thirties. Thirty-nine according to the license. He doesn’t look that old though. Hard to tell if he’s muscular, of course.”
“We’ll print it off and take it with us to show
“Yeah. Most street kids are—when they can be. And if they’re not loners.”
“Like you were?” Wrath asked softly.
“Most of the time, I was,” Reaper replied. “That was just me.”
“Still is,” Wrath said. “Most of the time.”
* * * *
“I’ll pass the license-plate number and the guy’s description on to vice,” Dallas said once he and Zack were back at the car.
They’d already stashed the majority of their clothing disguises in the trunk.
“On what grounds?” Zack asked.
“That one of my informants told me someone had tried to grab his on again, off again girlfriend and she told him as much as she remembered about the bastard.”
“Better yet,” Zack said as he started the car, “run a search on the plate to find out who he is.”
Dallas nodded, but didn’t look happy. “And take care of him ourselves? All we have is the word of those kids that he’s the right man. There must be dozens of cars fitting the description of the one he drives.”
“With a missing hubcap?”
“Okay, that narrows the odds some, but with no proof…”
“Just find out who he is. We can figure out what to do afterward.”
With a sigh, Dallas said, “Yeah, okay, I’ll do it.”
Chapter Twelve
Since he was off on Thursday, Dallas didn’t get a chance to run the license plate until Friday. What he found out unsettled him. The car belonged to one Jeffery Kinsley, M.D. Dallas. He looked him up and found that the man was a plastic surgeon with offices in a very modern and very pricey high-rise building in one of the wealthier areas of the city. Another check told Dallas the car was one of three owned by the doctor. The other two were an MG and a Lexus, both this year’s.
So why drive the old one?
He shook his head at the stupidity of his question.
* * * *
“So that no one will think he’s anything more than a guy looking for a fast hookup,” Zack said several hours later when Dallas had given him the information. “Considering who he is, that’s not in the least surprising.”
“You know him?” Dallas asked.
“I know about him. He’s fairly prominent within his circle—family man, a large donor to some of the more prestigious charities, held in high regard by his colleagues. His list of patients includes the wives of some of my clients.”
“Then why the hell is he trying to abduct girls off the street?”
“That, my dear man, is the question.” Zack took a bite of his pasta, since they were eating dinner while having the discussion. He waved his fork at Dallas after a moment’s thought. “Do we have a home address for him? And as far as that goes, a photo or two? We do want to make certain he matches the description that Missy gave us, just so we know someone else in his household isn’t borrowing the car.”
“I have both. I emailed his driver’s license photo to myself.” He shook his head when Zack started to get up. “It’s not going anywhere. You can see it after dinner.”
“Don’t go all bossy on me,” Zack grumbled.
“Me?” Dallas chuckled when Zack nodded. “Question. If you know who he is, why don’t you already know what he looks like?”
“Because I’ve never actually met him. What I know, I’ve heard from my clients talking about him and from articles in the social section of the newspaper.”
“Okay. I know I’ve never run into him. But then, I doubt he’s the kind of person who makes it a habit to come into the Uptown district, except maybe to go through it to a downtown restaurant or the theater.”
“If we’re right, he comes there for something else as well. Does the man in the photo have a mustache and red hair?”
“Nope. Brown hair. However, he is in his thirties. Thirty-nine according to the license. He doesn’t look that old though. Hard to tell if he’s muscular, of course.”
“We’ll print it off and take it with us to show
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