The Stranger
Page 65
So now what?
The night before, Adam had tried to reach out to the other three people Gribbel had been able to identify and locate in that photograph on Gabrielle Dunbar’s page. None gave him anything useful on the stranger. No surprise. Whatever line of bull he threw at them, they were all naturally wary of a “stranger”—yep, irony strikes again—asking them in one fashion or another to identify a person, possibly a friend or coworker, from a group photograph. None of them lived close enough for Adam to chance, as he had with Gabrielle, confronting them in person.
So his mind went back to Gabrielle Dunbar.
She was hiding something. That much had been obvious to him yesterday—and suddenly she was rushing out of the house again with her third suitcase.
Coincidence?
He didn’t think so. He stayed in his car and watched. Gabrielle threw the bag into the trunk and struggled to slam it closed. She swept her children into the car, both in the backseat, and made sure they were strapped in. She opened her own door, paused, and then Gabrielle looked down the street right at him.
Damn.
Adam quickly slid down in the driver’s seat. Had she spotted him? He didn’t think so. Or if she had, would she know who he was from this distance? And hold up, so what if she had? He had come here to confront her, right? He raised himself back up slowly, but Gabrielle wasn’t looking in his direction anymore. She’d gotten into the car and had started moving.
Man, he was no good at this.
Gabrielle’s car started down the block. Adam thought about his next move but not for very long. In for a penny, in for a pound. Adam shifted into drive and started to follow.
He wasn’t sure how far to stay back so that she wouldn’t see him and yet he wouldn’t lose her. All of his knowledge on this subject had come from a lifetime of watching TV. Would anyone even know what a tail was if they hadn’t watched television? She turned right. Adam followed. They started toward Route 208 and then down Interstate 287. Adam checked his gas tank. Nearly full. Okay, good. Just how long did he plan on following her anyway? And when he caught up, what exactly did he plan on doing then?
One step at a time.
His cell phone rang. He glanced down and saw the name JOHANNA pop up.
He had programmed her phone number into his smartphone after her visit last night. Did he fully trust her? Pretty much, yeah. She had a simple agenda: Find her friend’s killer. As long as that wasn’t Corinne, Johanna could be, he thought, an asset and even an ally. If the killer was Corinne, then he had bigger problems than trusting a cop from Ohio.
“Hello?”
“I’m about to board a plane,” Johanna said.
“Heading back home?”
“I’m already back home.”
“In Ohio?”
“At the Cleveland airport, yeah. I had to take Heidi’s daughter home, but I’m flying back out to Newark in a few. What are you up to?”
“I’m tailing Gabrielle Dunbar.”
“Tailing?”
“Isn’t that what you cops call it when you follow someone?”
He quickly explained how he came to her house and saw her packing up.
“So what’s your plan here, Adam?”
“I don’t know. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”
“Fair point.”
“Why did you call?”
“I learned something last night.”
“I’m listening.”
“Whatever is happening here,” she said, “this isn’t just about one website.”
“I don’t understand.”
“This stranger guy. He doesn’t just tell his victims about their wives faking pregnancies. He has access to other sites. Or at least one other site.”
“How do you know this?”
“I talked to Heidi’s daughter.”
“So what was the secret?”
“I promised I wouldn’t tell—and you don’t need to know, trust me on that. The key thing is, your stranger may be blackmailing a whole slew of people for a variety of reasons, not just for faking a pregnancy.”
“So what do we think is going on here exactly?” Adam asked. “This stranger and Ingrid were blackmailing people about what they do online?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“So why is my wife missing?”
“Don’t know.”
“And who killed your friend? And Ingrid?”
“Don’t know and don’t know. Maybe something went wrong with the blackmail. Heidi was tough. Maybe she stood up to them. Maybe the stranger and Ingrid had a falling-out.”
Up ahead, Gabrielle was pulling off an exit to Route 23. Adam hit his turn signal and stayed with her.
“So what’s the connection between your friend and my wife?”
“Other than the stranger, I don’t see any.”
“Hold up,” Adam said.
“What?”
“Gabrielle’s pulling into a driveway.”
“Where?”
“Lockwood Avenue in Pequannock.”
“That’s in New Jersey?”
“Yeah.”
Adam wasn’t sure whether he should stay back and stop suddenly or drive past and find a spot to pull over. He opted for the latter, cruising by the yellow split-level with the aluminum siding and red shutters. A man opened the front door, smiled, and strolled toward Gabrielle’s car. Adam didn’t recognize him. The car doors opened. The girl came out of the car first. The man gave her an awkward hug.
“So what’s going on?” Johanna asked.
“False alarm, I guess. Looks like she’s dropping her kids off at her ex’s place.”
“Okay, they’re calling my flight. I’ll call you when I land. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”
Johanna hung up. Now Gabrielle’s son got out of the car. Another awkward hug. The man who might have been the ex waved at Gabrielle. She may have waved back, but he couldn’t tell from here. A woman appeared at the doorway. A younger woman. A much younger woman. An old story, Adam thought. Gabrielle stayed in the car as the probable ex opened the trunk. He took out one of the suitcases and closed it again. He started back toward the front of the car with a puzzled look on his face.
Gabrielle hit reverse and pulled out before he could reach her. She started driving back down the street.
With a lot of luggage still in her car.
So where was she going?
In for a penny . . .
Adam saw no reason not to keep following her.
The night before, Adam had tried to reach out to the other three people Gribbel had been able to identify and locate in that photograph on Gabrielle Dunbar’s page. None gave him anything useful on the stranger. No surprise. Whatever line of bull he threw at them, they were all naturally wary of a “stranger”—yep, irony strikes again—asking them in one fashion or another to identify a person, possibly a friend or coworker, from a group photograph. None of them lived close enough for Adam to chance, as he had with Gabrielle, confronting them in person.
So his mind went back to Gabrielle Dunbar.
She was hiding something. That much had been obvious to him yesterday—and suddenly she was rushing out of the house again with her third suitcase.
Coincidence?
He didn’t think so. He stayed in his car and watched. Gabrielle threw the bag into the trunk and struggled to slam it closed. She swept her children into the car, both in the backseat, and made sure they were strapped in. She opened her own door, paused, and then Gabrielle looked down the street right at him.
Damn.
Adam quickly slid down in the driver’s seat. Had she spotted him? He didn’t think so. Or if she had, would she know who he was from this distance? And hold up, so what if she had? He had come here to confront her, right? He raised himself back up slowly, but Gabrielle wasn’t looking in his direction anymore. She’d gotten into the car and had started moving.
Man, he was no good at this.
Gabrielle’s car started down the block. Adam thought about his next move but not for very long. In for a penny, in for a pound. Adam shifted into drive and started to follow.
He wasn’t sure how far to stay back so that she wouldn’t see him and yet he wouldn’t lose her. All of his knowledge on this subject had come from a lifetime of watching TV. Would anyone even know what a tail was if they hadn’t watched television? She turned right. Adam followed. They started toward Route 208 and then down Interstate 287. Adam checked his gas tank. Nearly full. Okay, good. Just how long did he plan on following her anyway? And when he caught up, what exactly did he plan on doing then?
One step at a time.
His cell phone rang. He glanced down and saw the name JOHANNA pop up.
He had programmed her phone number into his smartphone after her visit last night. Did he fully trust her? Pretty much, yeah. She had a simple agenda: Find her friend’s killer. As long as that wasn’t Corinne, Johanna could be, he thought, an asset and even an ally. If the killer was Corinne, then he had bigger problems than trusting a cop from Ohio.
“Hello?”
“I’m about to board a plane,” Johanna said.
“Heading back home?”
“I’m already back home.”
“In Ohio?”
“At the Cleveland airport, yeah. I had to take Heidi’s daughter home, but I’m flying back out to Newark in a few. What are you up to?”
“I’m tailing Gabrielle Dunbar.”
“Tailing?”
“Isn’t that what you cops call it when you follow someone?”
He quickly explained how he came to her house and saw her packing up.
“So what’s your plan here, Adam?”
“I don’t know. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”
“Fair point.”
“Why did you call?”
“I learned something last night.”
“I’m listening.”
“Whatever is happening here,” she said, “this isn’t just about one website.”
“I don’t understand.”
“This stranger guy. He doesn’t just tell his victims about their wives faking pregnancies. He has access to other sites. Or at least one other site.”
“How do you know this?”
“I talked to Heidi’s daughter.”
“So what was the secret?”
“I promised I wouldn’t tell—and you don’t need to know, trust me on that. The key thing is, your stranger may be blackmailing a whole slew of people for a variety of reasons, not just for faking a pregnancy.”
“So what do we think is going on here exactly?” Adam asked. “This stranger and Ingrid were blackmailing people about what they do online?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“So why is my wife missing?”
“Don’t know.”
“And who killed your friend? And Ingrid?”
“Don’t know and don’t know. Maybe something went wrong with the blackmail. Heidi was tough. Maybe she stood up to them. Maybe the stranger and Ingrid had a falling-out.”
Up ahead, Gabrielle was pulling off an exit to Route 23. Adam hit his turn signal and stayed with her.
“So what’s the connection between your friend and my wife?”
“Other than the stranger, I don’t see any.”
“Hold up,” Adam said.
“What?”
“Gabrielle’s pulling into a driveway.”
“Where?”
“Lockwood Avenue in Pequannock.”
“That’s in New Jersey?”
“Yeah.”
Adam wasn’t sure whether he should stay back and stop suddenly or drive past and find a spot to pull over. He opted for the latter, cruising by the yellow split-level with the aluminum siding and red shutters. A man opened the front door, smiled, and strolled toward Gabrielle’s car. Adam didn’t recognize him. The car doors opened. The girl came out of the car first. The man gave her an awkward hug.
“So what’s going on?” Johanna asked.
“False alarm, I guess. Looks like she’s dropping her kids off at her ex’s place.”
“Okay, they’re calling my flight. I’ll call you when I land. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”
Johanna hung up. Now Gabrielle’s son got out of the car. Another awkward hug. The man who might have been the ex waved at Gabrielle. She may have waved back, but he couldn’t tell from here. A woman appeared at the doorway. A younger woman. A much younger woman. An old story, Adam thought. Gabrielle stayed in the car as the probable ex opened the trunk. He took out one of the suitcases and closed it again. He started back toward the front of the car with a puzzled look on his face.
Gabrielle hit reverse and pulled out before he could reach her. She started driving back down the street.
With a lot of luggage still in her car.
So where was she going?
In for a penny . . .
Adam saw no reason not to keep following her.
