Chapter 14
Spence’s gaze flicked from the road in front of him to the rearview mirror every few seconds. There were a number of white cars, but none of them were Subarus. Zoe stared into the side mirror on her door, looking over her shoulder once in a while. Finally he asked, “You see a suspicious car?”
“No,” she said, still staring at the mirror. “But I can’t get a good view from this angle. Figured a glance over my shoulder every now and then wouldn’t hurt.”
“Probably not,” Spence said, taking another look in the mirror. “Just don’t do it so often. If he’s following us, it’ll make him wonder if he’s been made.”
“There are several white cars behind us,” she said, her gaze fixed on the mirror. “A couple of minivans, a sedan and one of those huge SUVs.”
“Okay,” Spence said, knowing none of those vehicles could be a Subaru Outback. He glanced at the mapping app on his phone. “We’re almost there. Let’s make a detour through this neighborhood. Easier to spot someone following us.”
He drove into a quiet subdivision, but no one followed him. After making several turns, he re-emerged onto the main street. “I’ll go past the pub and pull into another parking lot. We’ll watch for five or ten minutes.”
She shifted in the seat to face him. “Great idea. Then if we see a white Subaru, we go home.”
“Exactly.”
She resumed her watch, and he saw the pub as they drove past. Dooley’s Irish Pub was in a smallish building. A handful of cars sat in the parking lot, but it was still early.
He didn’t slow the car as he passed the place, and he glanced in the mirror again after they’d driven another couple of blocks. He spotted a grocery store on the right side of the street and pulled into the lot. They parked facing the street, and he slid down in the seat until he could just see over the dashboard. He motioned for Zoe to do the same. “We don’t want him to see us in the car if he drives past,” he explained.
They watched for ten minutes and saw only one white Subaru Outback. The driver was a woman, and there were two kids in child seats behind her. Clearly not Davies. As far as he could tell, every car that drove past had a Washington State license plate.
“Okay,” he finally said. “If Davies followed us, we would have seen him by now. Let’s go back to the pub. We’ll park in the back of the parking lot, away from the street.” Somewhere without a lot of lights, where his black car would be harder to see.
A few minutes later, he slotted the car into the last parking spot in the back. A larger SUV was next to it, and it effectively hid his small SUV from the street. No one driving past the pub would notice his rental.
When Zoe got out of the car, he motioned her to his left side. He didn’t want her in the way if he had to pull his gun quickly. He swiveled his head back and forth as they walked, watching everything. No white Subarus drove past the pub. Nothing suspicious in the lot. When they reached the front door, he yanked it open and practically shoved her inside. Out of sight from the street.
There was a small vestibule between the outside door and an inner door, and he opened it and stepped inside. Scanned the room for any sign of Davies, although he wasn’t expecting to see him. The pub was circular, with the bar and a room full of tables on the left side, and two stairs up on the right to another room with tables.
He reached behind him for Zoe’s hand, drew her into the pub and guided her toward the stairs. “Let’s check this out first.” He let her go as soon as the door closed behind them, but he missed the press of her palm against his.
He clenched his teeth. Not what he was supposed to be thinking on an op.
There was one couple in the room on the right, and they didn’t look up when he and Zoe walked through. There were two steps down at the back of the room, and they led to another room. There was a section of the bar -- it turned at a right angle, he noticed -- and a handful of tables in the small room.
He walked slowly through the room, as if assessing the tables. Then he turned left and emerged into the main room. He spotted the table he wanted immediately. It was small, two chairs on one side and a bench against the wall of a cozy. He and Zoe could sit on the bench against the wall. They’d be facing the door and would be able to see anyone who walked in.
“This is good,” he murmured as he guided her to the table. He let her slide in first, then he sat down. He nodded toward the area at the front of the room, which had no tables or chairs. “Obviously for the band,” he said. “Perfect seats and a view of the door.”
A waitress came over, took their drink orders and left menus. Zoe scanned it, then closed it. “Fish and chips,” she said. “Perfect meal for an Irish pub.”
“Sold,” he said. He nudged her and smiled. “With your Guinness, we’ll fit right in here.”
“That’s the point, right?” she said. “Look like we belong.”
“Absolutely.”
They were almost finished with their meals when Zoe grabbed his thigh. Gripped hard. “Possible problem,” she said quietly.
He tensed and set his fork on the plate. “What?”
“That guy who just walked in? He’s my HR director. He’s the one who told me about this pub and this band.”
“He has no way of knowing who I am,” Spence said, running a finger over the back of her hand. “We go straight to your office every morning, and I stay inside it. I’m out of sight. If he notices us at all, he’ll assume we’re on a date.”
He watched as the guy slid onto a barstool. The bartender clearly recognized him because he picked up a beer glass and wiggled it. “Your usual, Ron?”