Читать книгу Striking Distance - Debra Webb - Страница 18

Chapter 9

“We lost her.”

Maverick stared at the handheld monitor, hoping like hell he’d pick up her signal again.

Nothing.

“Dammit.”

“He could have a jamming device in his vehicle,” Ramon offered from behind the wheel.

“Just keep driving,” Maverick barked. Ramon had been in this business almost as long as he had, but that didn’t give either one of them an edge at a time like this. If they couldn’t pick up a signal on the tracking device or the cell, the bastard had to have a jammer on board. It was that simple. “We gotta find that son of a bitch.”

He studied the electronic map of the vicinity where they’d last picked up the signal...where they’d last known Tasha North to be. She’d climbed into the SUV with the guy, and they’d lost her signal but had visual contact, so Maverick hadn’t worried. Then, when she’d gotten out a couple minutes later, the signal had come through loud and clear once more. He shook his head and hissed another curse from between gritted teeth. The bastard had a jammer in his vehicle, all right. He knew all the ropes and wasn’t taking any chances.

Able to maintain visual contact for a while, they’d followed him for several blocks. But, erring on the side of caution, they’d had to lag too far behind to keep up. He’d moved out of visual range...the signal hadn’t returned.

Now she was gone.

Maverick called up on the screen a ten-mile radius relative to the last visual sighting. “We’ll take this area one block at a time and hope we spot his SUV.”

“And if we don’t?” Ramon asked, his expression as disgusted and worried as Maverick’s surely was.

“Then we report in.”

He didn’t have to say the rest. If they couldn’t find her soon they’d have to let Lucas know...and start looking for her body.