The Business Of Strangers

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Aside from the figure in mythology and the constellation by the name, there were Pegasus references to sailboat racing, change systems, software, imaging tools, direct TV, opera and satellite boosters. The companies and products bearing the name were infinite. Trying to find any link at all between her and one of the references had failed.

Nor had she been able to find any artist’s rendering that matched the picture on her ankle. When she’d switched her focus to tattoo artists themselves, she’d known it would be a lengthy process. There were an estimated ten thousand in the United States alone. Ria had looked up the licensed designers and sent them copies of the rendering, without finding a match.

Of course, some states didn’t require licensing and many tattooists operated without one. Learning that many left the profession after a few years had underscored the futility of her search. There wasn’t even a way to ascertain if she’d gotten the tattoo in the States.

But three months ago she’d found a lead that had sparked a new level of excitement. She’d been working for the DPD when an APB had come across the computers for an escaped convict with family in the Denver area. The name and accompanying photo hadn’t rung any bells for Ria, but her attention had been caught by the description and picture of his distinguishing marks. One had been a tattoo of a winged horse. It had been crude, the detail not nearly identical to hers, but close. Far closer than any others she’d seen.

He’d eventually been apprehended in Colorado Springs. She’d contacted the arresting officer, and at her request he’d elicited from the prisoner the origin of the tattoo—a prison artist in the Donaldson Correctional Facility, a maximum-security prison. Tracking down the man had brought her to Alabama, and led to taking this job.

And tomorrow, she’d finally talk to the artist for the first time. He’d proven elusive and decidedly uncooperative to date, but she’d used her position to arrange a private interview with him at the prison. Whatever it took, she was going to get him to tell her what he knew, if anything.

Her heart kicked up at the thought, and she schooled herself to stay calm. She’d been disappointed too many times in the past by promising leads that ended up fizzling. But despite her best attempts, she couldn’t downplay the anticipation curling through her. Tomorrow’s meeting would probably prove to be yet another dead end. But there was a distant possibility that it might supply her with some of the answers she’d sought for so long.