Mark opened the pickup door and slid into the seat just as his cell phone began ringing. Reaching inside his jean jacket, he pulled the phone out and thumbed it on while the other hand closed the pickup door.
“Our two cops just got on a private jet and took off. The dark-haired one paid with a credit card for a Cessna to take them to California.”
“California? Where in California?”
“Some place called Arcata. Doesn’t make sense to me. Why are these two leaving now to fly off to California? This Patterson chick was checked out of the hospital late last night. The boyfriend and a couple of men drove her to the old hotel the boyfriend is living in. I hear he’s renovating the place. He left her there this morning, met up with that ugly-looking creep of a partner, and flew off to California.”
