He pointed at the device in Grant’s hand. “Every member of my team has a device exactly like this. They are all magically connected and protected so we can talk to each other over long ranges without the risk anyone could pick up any of our transmissions. Witches can’t deploy magic to listen in, and they can’t block the signals.
Grant fished the unit over his ear, tucking the bud with the hole in it inside his ear. “Thanks. When this is over, you’ll have to tell me where I can get some of these.”
Alex chuckled. “I’d be very surprised if Jerry doesn’t already have a set.”
Grant stood and held out his hand. “Alex, thank you. I appreciate the way you have mobilized your team so quickly to find my...” His voice choked and he had to clear his throat before continuing, “…my daughter.”
Alex held his gaze for a moment. “Don’t worry. We’ll find her. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”
Grant asked, “You a sensitive?”
Alex shook his head. “Not in the strictest sense of the word. But I get hunches about my cases, and they’re almost always right.”
“Do you ever get a hunch one of your cases is going south?” He wondered if it was a case of accurate hunches or simply the young man’s confidence in his own abilities.
Alex’s mouth lifted slightly at one corner. “Not often.”
Grant pulled in a deep breath to steady himself. “I hope you’re right.” Anxious to get started, and suddenly slightly shaky, he dropped back into the chair and spun it toward the computer screen as Alex headed for the door.
Before Alex had gotten to the door, Grant had removed the wards, and then replaced them one more time after the door closed.
A scratching noise sounded in his ear right before McCall’s voice came across. “Okay, team, everyone’s in place. Mr. SpellMaker, can you hear us?”
“Yeah, I’m here, but everyone, call me Grant, please.”
“Oh no,” Slicer had assumed a very southern accent, “I think we should call you Big Daddy.”
“Slicer…” Alex’s voice held a warning for his flamboyant team member.
Grant laughed. “Big Daddy it is, then.” It was a testament to how much trust Alex McCall instilled in people that Grant could even laugh at a time like this. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t heard rumors about this team before, given how unique they all were. He hoped they lived up to the trust he had placed in them.
“All right, reports. Slicer and Garcia, you two get anything from the family?”
Garcia responded, “Not yet. No one saw her after she left the house with her familiar in a carrier, claiming to be on her way to the groomers. No one thought she acted strange in any way.”
Grant interjected, “I talked to the groomer. She didn’t have an appointment and never got there.”
“Okay.” Alex moved on. “Cowboy, you boys in the saddle yet?”
“Well, hell yeah. The boys were already out by the time I got back to the ranch. I had to ride like hell to catch up to ‘em. We’ve already covered half the SpellMaker ranch. No sign of the girl. We’ll stay to the open areas and ravines and leave the forested areas to your team.”
“As soon as you finish with the SpellMaker ranch, maybe you boys should split up and start on the ranches on either side.”
Cowboy was prepared. “That plan’s already in play. Just sent half the team off to start on the ranch to the east, while we continue on to the west.”
The background noise indicated Alex was in his truck. “Shooter and Boxcar, you guys find anything in town?”
“Nada, boss. Everything is quiet here. No sign of the car, the girl, or the sugar flyer.”
Mention of the sugar flyer triggered a thought for Grant. “Hey, Garcia and Slicer, did you have the kids check with their familiars to see if they could make contact with Mango?”
Slicer responded with his southern drawl imitation. “For sure, Big Daddy, and that’s a nega-to-ry. The little squeakers all say mum’s the word. So the sweet little thang is probably in her shush box.”
“He means her familiar carrier,” explained Garcia.
Alex moved on, “Tracker and Meow, how’s the forest look?”
A heavy sigh sounded through the earpiece. “It’s damn slow going out here. We’re searching the area east of the house, but there’s a whole lot of forested area on this ranch. Nothing yet.”
The roar of Alex’s truck engine shut off. “Guys, I’m at the edge of the forest to the west of the house.” A vehicle door slammed in the background. “I’m gonna start with the road and see if I can find anything that might tell me she entered the forest between the ranch and town. Cowboy, when you guys have searched the open areas, send half your team to help me on the west side, and you take half the team and help out Tracker and Meow on the east side.”
“You got it, boss.” Cowboy’s southern drawl was the real thing, not an over-the-top imitation like Slicer’s.
Alex’s voice was breathy, indicating he was on the move. “Hey, Digit, what have you got for me?”
A voice Grant hadn’t heard before came on. “Yeah. We picked up a blip on the tracker on the vehicle. It’s stationary, about a mile northwest of the ranch, right on the road to town.”
Grant’s heart skipped a beat. “I checked the road myself less than an hour ago and didn’t see anything.”
Alex responded. “That area is thick woods. If someone wanted to hide the vehicle, it wouldn’t take much to hide it from someone driving that road after dark. Or it’s possible the transmitter isn’t on the vehicle anymore.”
Grant leaned back in his chair and rolled his head against the headrest, as he closed his eyes and willed himself to stay calm. None of it sounded good, and could mean she had been abducted and the vehicle hidden—or it could mean she’d been smart enough to hide it herself.
Slicer tried to console Grant. “Don’t get your panties in a wad, Big Daddy, this is all standard stuff we run into all the time. It don’t mean a thang. You jest keep prayin’, and we’ll all keep lookin’. We’ll find your girl.”
“He’s right,” Alex advised, “this is standard stuff. I’m in that area now. Hey, Digit, I’m turning on my tracking device. You guide me in. Everyone else keep on with what you’re doing.”
“Alrighty then,” came Digit’s cheerful response. “I’ve got ya, Papa Bear. Hey, you’re real close. You’re about a quarter of a mile southeast of the blip. Hurry your ass up the road and let’s see what we’ve got.”
Grant’s breath hitched in his chest and he leaned forward.
The sound of Alex’s boots crunching on gravel was loud as he took off down the road. “Hey, Big Daddy, you got anything on those bank accounts yet?”
Grant had to will his brain to focus on the accounts in front of him. He knew Alex was trying to help him remain steady and focused, and if he was going to be of any help to the team, he had to do exactly that.
“Yeah, I do. Her average daily balance has remained fairly level, and the amounts she’s spent have remained pretty constant. But her spending patterns changed about six months ago. Where the bulk of her expenses used to be debit card purchases, she’s switched to weekly cash withdrawals.”
Alex’s voice sounded slightly winded. “Okay, so she’s squirreled away some cash. Any idea how much she might have stashed by now?”
Digit came on, “Slow down, Papa Bear, or you’ll overshoot the area.”
The sound of crunching gravel slowed as Grant replied, “Looks like she’s pulled out just under 10K a month, which is her monthly allotment from the trust. The account is set to trigger an email to me if her monthly expenses exceed ten thousand. So she could have as much as sixty thousand saved up by now.”
A low whistle sounded, followed by Slicer’s syrupy drawl, “Oh, girlfriend, that’s a whole lotta new shoes.”
“All right, we all know this girl has some serious social obligations as part of her job. Rein it in, guys. Digit, how far out am I?”
“You’re a
bout a hundred yards away. Ninety. Eighty.”
With each crunch of the gravel under Alex’s boots, Grant’s blood pressure shot up ten points. By the time the count reached ten, he gripped the chair arms so hard, his fingers ached.
“Okay, I see it. Dark green Ford F-150.”
Grant surged to his feet. “That’s it! Do you see her?”
“No, I do not, Big Daddy. Give me a minute to get to it. Someone didn’t want this baby to be seen from the road.”
Grant’s throat felt like it was caught in a vice grip.
“The girl’s not here. Truck’s locked and…” The alarm began to blare in the background. “Oops, the alarm’s been set. Digit, you want to see if you can get the On-Star folks on the line and get the alarm shut off and the doors unlocked remotely?”
“I’m on it, Papa Bear.”
Alex cleared his throat. “I don’t see any sign of a struggle. Right now I think we’re looking for a runaway.”
Grant collapsed back in his chair. Somehow, the thought that his daughter may have run away on her own was comforting. He gulped in a lungful of air and straightened in the chair. “Alex, I’m coming out there. I don’t think there’s anything more to see in these accounts.”
“Okay, Big Daddy, I hear ya loud and clear.”
Grant removed the wards and replaced them on the fly as he rushed around the side of the house to enter the garage through the side door. Slicer and Garcia would inform the kids. Their questions would only slow him down. Right now, he had to get to where his daughter’s truck was.
The chatter over his earpiece continued as he pulled the car keys out of his pocket and hit the remote to open the garage door.
Alex instructed Digit to send the coordinates for Quayk’s truck to Garcia so she could see if the kids had any idea where their sister might’ve gone from there. “Everyone else search where you’re at. Big Sis could be anywhere.”
Cowboy broke in with his slow drawl. “Papa Bear, we’re done here and we’re on our way to you.”
“Good. Come in by the road,” Alex instructed. “I’m gonna follow what signs I can find for now and see what I can see. I’ll leave my tracker activated and Digit can guide you to me.”
“We’ll be there in three shakes of a cow’s tail.”
“I’ll be there in two,” Grant growled as he flew down the road toward town.
CHAPTER FOUR
Alex McCall followed the careless trail Quayk had left in the forest. Broken twigs and mashed undergrowth almost screamed at him. He’d done this all his life, and there had never been a trail he couldn’t follow. But Quayk had been in a hurry to get away, and hadn’t bothered to cover up anything but her truck.
“Hey, Digit?” Alex queried.
“I’m here.”
“I’ve got multiple trails that cross over each other, and I’ll have to do a partial shift to determine which trail is the most recent. So I won’t be able to hear you. Cowboy, you bring Big Daddy in with ya. I’ll keep an eye out for you boys, but make sure you approach slowly. When I see you, I’ll shift back.”
“Gotcha, Ke-mo sah-bee.”
Alex shook his head at Cowboy’s warped sense of humor. “Big Daddy, you stay with the truck and wait for Cowboy. Digit, you’re in charge until I shift back.”
“No problem-o. You be careful out there. There’s a storm moving in from the north, and the weather service is warning about tornadoes. I’ve been watching the way it moves, and it doesn’t look normal. Might be triggered or pulled in by magic. So you keep your butt low and I’ll keep an eye on Tonto.”
Alex rolled his eyes and muttered, “Seriously?”
Laughter floated back through the earpiece.
Alex plucked the earpiece out or his ear and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans. When a gargoyle shifted, he lost all of his normal senses—feeling, hearing, smell, taste, and sight, and had to depend on a heightened sort of radar that came with the shift. He could see things in his mind as if he were looking through an infrared scope, but not with his eyes. During a partial shift, Alex still had some dim vision that allowed him to see both ways, as if he were looking through a gauze curtain.
But with his other senses gone, anything not attached to his body in some way could be gone when he shifted back, because he couldn’t feel it when things fell off of his body during a shift. If he held his gun or wore his earpiece, either or both could be lost in a shift. He’d learned the gun did fine if it was in his holster during the shift, but the earpieces never fared well. So after replacing a couple dozen very expensive earpieces, he finally began to stick the unit in his pocket for safekeeping while he shifted.
For some reason, his cowboy hat seemed to be the exception to the rule—it became integrated with his body when he shifted. He didn’t mind that so much. At least he wasn’t replacing expensive hats all the time.
Alex focused on the crisscross of heat trails and willed himself to shift. As his vision dimmed and the heat signature began to show, he slowed the process and finally stopped it just at the edge of deafness. This allowed enough of a shift for his radar vision capabilities to kick in strongly enough for him to distinguish between multiple heat trails, but he still had enough residual hearing that he might hear if something big crashed his way.
Of course, with a full shift into his gargoyle form, Alex would have wings fully three-quarters the length of his body. With a partial shift, the roots formed in his back, but the wings themselves did not form. This would allow him to move through the forest without the hassle of catching on everything he passed. The enormous appendages were much more useful in open spaces.
The other capability he got with a full shift that he would not have with a partial shift was the ability to almost become invisible by blending in with the background. But he probably wouldn’t need it now.
He subconsciously rubbed at his arm with one hand. Although he couldn’t feel his hand against his arm, and he was unable to feel the roughness of the arm with his hand, his brain registered a sensation similar to the vibration he got when he used sandpaper over a pockmarked surface.
An old girlfriend once told him when he shifted, he felt sort of like a “pebbly” rubber stress ball. He’d long since given up wondering why he alone had the ability to become invisible against a background, and remain pliable after shifting, rather than taking on the cool, hard, marble-like finish other gargoyles achieved.
He accepted he was defective, and tried to make the best of what he’d been given. He was no longer a scared kid, bullied by the other gargoyle children because he was different. As an adult, he could be whatever he chose to be, so he’d learned to fight and refused to let his handicap hold him back.
And he’d come to appreciate the ability to blend into the background. It came in handy in his line of business.
Alex quickly found the most recent heat trail, which led from the truck into the forest, and he set off to follow it. About a half-mile in, the heat trail suddenly became extremely bright. He stopped to look around. It was as if she had passed this way once, then came back and either doubled back, or someone lifted her into the sky.
He wondered if she could have taken the Witch’s Pass. With a quick glance around, he scanned the area, but didn’t see a portal. That didn’t mean there wasn’t one. The vines could be contrary and would only make a portal visible if it served their purposes. Grant had indicated Quayk spent a lot of time in these woods, so she would be familiar with the fixed portals.
Alex was not.
He looked up into the trees as he searched for a heat signature that might indicate she’d hoisted herself up to hide her trail. Nothing. She either took the Witch’s Pass, or she doubled back. His only option was to follow the heat trail.
His dulled sense of hearing registered a low rumble. Probably thunder. Magical storms were usually electrical in nature, and nothing to get caught out in, especially in his shifted state. This kind of storm affected everything—magic could go wonky or not work at
all, depending on the strength of the storm.
Since rocks contained veins of metal, a shifted gargoyle did also. Which turned him into the equivalent of a lightning rod in an electrical storm.
He’d been struck by lightning once in his lifetime while shifted, and he’d been out cold for two days, and woke disoriented and nauseous—not something he was eager to repeat.
He briefly wondered if he should suspend the search until after the storm had passed.
Digit was in charge, and he’d pull the team out if it got too dicey. All Alex had to worry about was himself—and the girl.
As a princess from a very powerful family, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that a coven of witches had kidnapped her and had stirred up an electrical storm to impede the search and cover their trail.
While Alex didn’t think that was the case, it would be impossible for a single witch to bring down an electrical storm, so the timing of a magical storm forced him to consider the possibility this wasn’t what it appeared.
He was determined to follow the trail as long as he could, and keep an eye out for a place to wait out the storm, just in case.
In less than five minutes, the storm raged so badly he could no longer ignore it. Trees were whipped around by the high winds, and the thunder was so loud he could sense the rumble under his feet.
Alex began to look around in earnest for a place to ride it out. He considered shifting back, but decided with all the debris being tossed around, it was safer in his “rubber skin”, as the team called it.
While Alex’s skin never hardened to the marble finish other gargoyles experienced, his pliable skin was still tough and couldn’t be cut, punctured, shot, or penetrated by any weapon he’d ever encountered. So he was still better protected as a gargoyle than as a human. And the advantage he had over other gargoyles is that in a pliable form, he could still move, while they were rooted to one spot.
BodyGuard (Butterscotch Martini Shots Book 2) Page 30
