by Susan Stoker
“Dammit, Wes. This doesn’t make sense. Any leads on the BOLO?”
Wes appreciated his friend not commenting on his break in professionalism, instead focusing on the “Be On The Lookout” Wes had put on Laine’s car. He cleared his throat, got himself under control and answered. “No. Nothing. But that’s not too surprising. If it’s parked amongst other cars or otherwise doesn’t stick out, it could take days or weeks to find.”
They both knew her car could be anywhere. It could be at the bottom of a pond or lake . . . with Laine still inside. If she’d crashed, it could be years before anyone found it, or her. Or the car, and Laine, could be in Mexico . . . or another state. There were so many scary scenarios, it hurt Wes’s heart to even think about what may have happened to her.
“I called in a favor from a friend of a friend of a friend,” Dax told Wes in a serious voice. “Moose is a firefighter from Station 7 that I’ve worked with in the past. As you know, we’ve played Station 7 in those charity softball games for several years now. Anyway, one of his crew is the Army Princess—”
“The soldier who was rescued from the Middle East? The one held by ISIS?” Wes interrupted in surprise. He’d met the firefighters, but wasn’t close with them. But now that he thought about it, Penelope, the female firefighter, did look familiar. He vaguely remembered all the press coverage on her when she’d been held as a prisoner over in Turkey.
“Yes, that’s her. Anyway, somehow in all that went down with her, she met this man who’s a former SEAL and some sort of techy geek. Penelope heard from Moose that Laine was missing, and she knows she’s Mack’s best friend, and since Mack is my girlfriend . . . shit, it’s all so convoluted, but anyway, the bottom line is that this guy did some searching to try to help . . . and he came up blank.”
“What?” Wes asked in surprise, sure Dax had been about to tell him that this mysterious hacker had found Laine.
“Yeah, I think it stunned him as much as it did us. He told us the same thing Cruz’s guy did about the phone. He knows it pinged on that rural tower, but that doesn’t give us enough information to organize a search party or head down there to start looking in any constructive way. He couldn’t find any local surveillance cameras with her car or license on it. He’s been up most of the night searching databases, with no luck. He says that he could probably find her if he had more time and information, but we’re running low on both at the moment. I’m kinda at a loss.”
Wes knew the connection between Laine and this mysterious guy was tenuous at best, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “Ask him to look into a property owned by someone with the last name of Johnson in that area. Also, Morningside. Both names were written on yesterday’s date on the calendar at Laine’s desk. I’ve searched through all of the MLS listings in her files, without success. I’m waiting on a call back from someone at a long-term care facility named Morningside, here in San Antonio, but I have no idea when they’ll get back to me, or if anyone will have anything that will be useful enough to find Laine. We know she was looking at a property, but not where or whose. I’m hoping this mysterious property owned by someone with the last name of Johnson was where she disappeared. If not . . . I have no idea where to go next.”
“Will do. Let me see if I can get Moose to ask Penelope to contact him again. Jesus . . . this feels like the telephone game,” Dax said in disgust.
“Give him my number. He can call me direct,” Wes demanded, thinking much like Dax, that they needed to cut out the middlemen.
“I will. Don’t give up, Wes. Remember, we found Mack when all the odds were against it. Laine comes from the same stock as Mack. She’s tough and I know we’ll find her.”
“I know. Thanks, Dax. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime. Not only because you’re my friend, but because if anything happens to Laine, it’ll devastate Mack.”
“She still there?”
“No, I sent her to the other room to lie down. She didn’t sleep at all last night and she’s stressed out to her breaking point.”
“Take care of her. I’ve come to like that woman of yours.”
“I will. Call me the second you have a lead. I’ve got a whole team of people ready to move at a moment’s notice. Firefighters, cops, paramedics . . . you name it.”
Not for the first time, Wes thanked his lucky stars he was where he was and he’d made the type of friends he had. It was as if Fate had made him wait as long as she did to find the woman meant for him, until he had exactly the right combination of friends around him. If anyone could find and save Laine, it was the army of law enforcement and firefighter friends who were on his side. “I will. Thank you. Seriously, you have no idea how much that means to me. I’ll be in touch.”
“It’s what Rangers do. And friends, Wes. Later.”
“Later.”
Wes was striding toward the front of the building before he’d finished speaking. He couldn’t just sit around and wait for a phone call. He didn’t know what he needed to do, but waiting idly was at the bottom of the list.
Chapter Ten
‡
The dog was back. Laine looked up and saw her muzzle peeking over the edge of the hole, way above her head. “Hey, dog. You come back to laugh at me some more?” Sometime in the last two days, Laine decided that was really what the dog was doing. She was obviously wary of people and was probably thinking karma was getting back at the human race.
The first night hadn’t been so bad . . . she’d been sure Wes, or Dax, or someone would realize she was missing and track her down, and she’d be sitting at Wes’s house eating breakfast within hours. But as the second day came and went, she understood the trouble she was in.
Laine was thirsty. She couldn’t remember exactly how long it was before someone died from a lack of water, but she thought she could probably hold out a few more days. The fact that she was thinking about how many days she might have to live was absolutely terrifying.
She’d stopped sweating the day before and she was dizzy most of the time now. Her mouth felt as though she’d been sucking on cotton balls, but it was the confusion that scared her most of all. Laine had woken up a while ago and had no idea where she was. She’d stood up and tried to take a step and ran her face into the dirt wall. She’d fallen on her butt on the boards and it’d taken her too many minutes to work through in her mind where she was and how she’d gotten there. She was terrified that her body was shutting down on her.
Her voice was still scratchy, but along with the chills, hunger, thirst, and all of her aches and pains, Laine could add shaking to her list of things that were just not going her way.
“You run off to get help yet?” she asked the dog, still staring down at her. “’Cos I could really use some here.” Laine stood for a moment, and wished with all her heart she could lay down. The first night had been long, cold, and uncomfortable, but the second had been absolute misery. Her legs were cramping and her back was killing her from not being able to stretch it out properly. The bruises from her initial decent into hell were starting to make themselves known as well. She’d slept in spurts, sitting up. Her neck hurt, but not as much as her ankles. She’d started trying to stand for periods of time, ignoring the shooting pains in her legs. If she got a blood clot from sitting for too long, she’d die of that as easily as anything else.
Once, when she was completely miserable, she’d given climbing the walls of the abandoned well the ol’ college try, and failed miserably. All she’d done was make her ankles ache more, and rip a large chunk of dirt from the wall of the shaft, further contaminating the murky water at her feet. She had to look like the monster from the black lagoon by now. Covered in dried mud from her attempts at using it for a bug repellant, and the additional dirt and mud that she’d gotten on her over the last forty hours or so.
The water had finally begun to seep through the weathered leather of her boots and Laine could feel her toes squishing in her socks. And she was thirsty. So damn thirsty. Now that
the sun had come up again, the temperature had risen in her hole. It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been if she’d been in direct sunlight, or if it’d been the middle of summer, but the gnats and other insects had taken up residence with her again and were driving her crazy, along with all her other maladies.
The dog panted as she whined above her. “Now I know how you felt when I got here, girl. I hope that granola bar was good. I’d kill for one, although it’d make me even thirstier than I am now, which would totally suck. You see anyone up there? Anyone at all? Maybe someone will come look at this stupid house. It is on the market, after all. I know, I know,” Laine continued the one-sided conversation, not expecting the dog to suddenly talk back, “it’s been on the market for two years and hasn’t had one contract on it . . . but you never know. Maybe today’s the day. Maybe today, someone will decide they want to live on a real live ranch and take a tour.”
Laine eased herself back to her makeshift seat on the rotten boards and fell silent. She was cried out, and didn’t have any tears anymore anyway. She closed her eyes, feeling tired. So tired. She’d just close her eyes for a moment; she’d be okay, she was just resting her eyeballs.
As she fell into a fitful sleep, she didn’t even notice the gnats settling on her face, or that the dog stayed by the hole high above her head, as if watching over her.
*
Wes tried to look around Laine’s house with the eye of a detective, rather than the man who recently had an epiphany that he loved her. The first night had been bad, but he’d still held out hope that she was hunkered down somewhere and not really missing, but now that a second night had come and gone with no word from or about her, the feeling in his gut that she would die if he didn’t locate her was eating away at him.
Dax’s mysterious techie friend hadn’t called him back yet, neither had anyone from Morningside, and he’d taken to driving the streets of San Antonio, trying to see if he could find Laine’s car. In a last-ditch effort, he’d gone to visit Dax and Mack and had gotten the key to her apartment from Mackenzie, wanting to see for himself that she hadn’t come home and packed to go on a spur-of-the-moment trip or something.
Not being able to find her, and not having any information coming in, was killing him. He should’ve found her by now. He felt like he was on the cusp of having all the information they needed, but hadn’t been able to put the pieces together. It was incredibly frustrating.
Everything at Laine’s house looked in place, exactly as it’d been the last time he’d seen Laine. Nothing was knocked over, as if she’d been in a tussle with someone. Her boots and sandals were missing, which wasn’t unusual, she usually had the boots in her car in case she needed to walk around a muddy or dangerous property. There wasn’t any food left out on the counter. It was exactly as if she’d gotten ready for a day of work with every intention of returning. Dammit.
His phone rang, and Wes answered immediately with a terse, “King.”
“My name is Tex, and I’m the friend of a friend of a friend who’s been looking into your missing girlfriend.” The man on the other end of the phone didn’t bother beating around the bush.
Wes didn’t care about introductions at this point, he was just glad to finally be hearing from Dax’s friend. “Do you have anything?”
“Yes. I’m pretty sure I do. You were right on, and I don’t think I would’ve found what I did without your help. I searched the MLS database for a property for sale by someone with the last name of Johnson. There were four hundred and thirty-two in and around San Antonio.”
Wes’s stomach dropped, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything as Tex continued.
“But there’s only one that’s connected to Morningside Long-Term Care Facility and is south of the city. Ethel Johnson, age ninety-two. She’s been there for four years. She has one daughter, who lives up in Austin. The ranch went on the market two years ago and the price has dropped three times. They own it outright, so there’s no mortgage. I took the liberty of hacking into one of the government’s satellites and checking it out with the best cameras available. Not that crap that Google uses. According to the DMV, Laine owns a 2012 Toyota Avalon. It’s hard to be one hundred percent sure, but it looks like there’s an Avalon sitting in front of the house at the property in question.”
Wes didn’t give a shit at the moment how many laws the man on the other end of the phone had just broken, or about the fact that he’d admitted as much to a law enforcement officer. All he cared about was Laine, and it looked like he was finally getting a viable lead. Sometimes it worked that way in his job. He’d work for days with nothing, and the most inconsequential thing could lead to solving the case.
“What’s the address?” Wes’s heart rate increased. He’d known it.
Tex gave it to him then warned, “I’ve already told Penelope, who’s most likely informed the rest of her crew and Mackenzie by now. I’m sure she’s told Daxton, so if you’re heading out there, be ready for the cavalry to be at your heels.”
“If she’s there, I’m forever in your debt.”
“No, you aren’t. You’d do the same if it was my wife. And you have, not with me or mine, but with many, many other people. I’ve looked into your record. You’re a hell of a Ranger. It’s my honor to help you. Let me know if you ever need any other help. I’ve got your back, King. Good luck and godspeed.”
Wes didn’t bother saying goodbye, as the other man had already hung up. He closed and locked Laine’s apartment door behind him and climbed into his vehicle, taking the extra seconds to put the address Tex had given him into his GPS. It sucked to take the time, but it would be even worse to be lost on the back roads of southern Texas, knowing he was close to Laine, but not getting there in time because he’d been a dumbass.
As he raced to the deserted ranch, his phone rang once again. Expecting it to be Dax or one of his other fellow Rangers, Wes answered brusquely, “Yeah?”
“Is this Texas Ranger Wes King?” The voice was hesitant after hearing the sharp way he’d answered.
“Sorry, yes, this is he. Can I help you?”
“My name is Mary. I work at Morningside. Our receptionist said you were interested in one of our patients with the last name of Johnson that was maybe selling a house?”
Wes was pretty sure he had the information he needed already, but he didn’t tell Mary that. “Yes, do you know of anyone like that?”
“Yes. Ethel Johnson is in her nineties and the sweetest woman I know. I’ve spent many a night sitting up with her listening to the stories of her life in that house. Her husband died twenty years ago and she’s been lonely ever since. Her daughter tried to help as much as she could, but since she lives in Austin, she couldn’t be around all the time. A few years ago, Ethel fell and couldn’t get up. Her daughter decided she needed to be in an assisted-living facility, and she’s been here ever since.”
“Can you tell me the address?”
“No, I’m sorry. I would if I could, but I don’t know it. But I do know it was south of the city. Ethel sometimes talks about how she and her husband used to sit on the roof and gaze northward at the city lights.”
Tex had been right. He was on the right track. The address he was racing toward was south of San Antonio. Wes was relieved, but not a hundred percent. He might have the address of the property Laine was going to look at, but that didn’t mean she was there. But at least it was a place to start. “Thank you, Mary, I appreciate you calling me back.”
“Do you think the missing woman might be out there?”
“I don’t know, but I’m praying she is.”
“Good luck. I hope she’s okay.”
“Me too. Please tell Ethel she’ll have a visitor soon. I’d like to come and thank her myself once I find my girlfriend.”
“Oh, she’ll like that. Will you wear your uniform? She has a thing for cowboy hats, and the cowboys who wear them.”
“I will. Thanks again.”
“Bye, Ranger.”
&nb
sp; Wes clicked off the Bluetooth on his phone and gripped the steering wheel hard as he raced south. “Hold on, Laine, I’m coming for you.” His words were whispered, but he hoped with all his heart that the man upstairs was listening and would keep the woman he loved safe until he could get there.
Chapter Eleven
‡
Wes drove down the rutted and badly in-need-of-repair dirt and gravel driveway at a speed much too fast than was safe, but he didn’t care. Turning one last corner, he saw a house—but more importantly, Laine’s car.
Daxton was already there, leaning into the driver’s side.
Not bothering to pull the keys out of the ignition, Wes slammed his car into park and jumped out.
“What do you have?” he growled out at his friend in agitation.
“Nothing. Her keys aren’t here. But her purse is. Her phone is in it.”
Wes walked around to the other side of the Avalon and opened the door. Her purse was sitting on the passenger seat, with a granola bar wrapper and her phone resting on top, as if she’d thrown both there without much worry. It didn’t look like anything was out of the ordinary with the car. The seat looked to be in the right position for her five-nine height. There was no blood or anything else that would be evidence of a struggle.
Using his shirt to pick up her phone, trying to preserve evidence if it was needed later, Wes turned it on. The charge was at twelve percent. “It’s almost dead. I bet she turned it off to try to conserve it. We had a conversation about it and she was probably trying to make sure it didn’t die altogether.”
Dax nodded in agreement. “Her sandals are on the floorboard near the pedals. She took the time to change into her boots. It doesn’t look like she was in distress, at least when she left her car.”
They both looked around the car and could see Laine’s footprints all over the dusty ground. They led toward the house as well as partway to the barn. They weren’t spaced far enough apart for her to be running. She was just walking around. They didn’t immediately see any other footprints indicating another person had been there and had possibly snatched Laine, but somehow it didn’t make Wes feel better. She was still missing.
