The call from Reis disrupts my reverie. “Hello?”
His breathing is frantic. “Something’s happened to Colt.”
That was all I needed to hear. I immediately pack my bags and jot a note for my parents, letting them know that I’m heading back to the school. It’s not far from the truth. I was going to Connecticut, but I was headed to Reis’ house to figure out what was going on.
Reis and I talk on the phone while I drive. Colt had left to work a case by himself two days ago. He’d insisted that he didn’t need back up, only telling Reis that he’d be in New Jersey overnight. He was due back yesterday, no one has heard from him and his cell phone has been turned off. It’s a nerve racking five hour drive to their house, and all the while I ponder various scenarios – all horrible, all involving Colt. There’s a million ways a field assignment could go wrong, and my mind works through all of them and then some.
When I finally pull into their driveway, I slam the truck into park and jog to the door. It swings open after several minutes of knocking and I expect to see Reis, or maybe Mrs. Lee, so it takes me a second to figure out that it’s McAllister standing in front of me.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt out, stunned.
“I live here,” he says, slowly.
“Oh. Of course, I mean, I thought you were in Brazil.”
“My initial plan was to come home to see Reis’ last soccer game. But when I got here – Reis’ got stitches in his face and Colt’s disappeared.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking wistful. “Seems I shouldn’t have stayed away so long.”
I nod in agreement. His hair is laced with more silver than I remember and his eyes look lined and tired.
“The better question is, what are you doing here?” he asks. His voice is direct, but not unkind, just curious at how I fit into this mess with his sons.
“I’m here to fix things.”
He smiles lightly. “Me too. Come inside.”
I follow him in through the foyer and into the kitchen. Reis is chatting with Mrs. Lee. He springs off the barstool when he sees me and lifts me from the floor in a hug.
McAllister and Mrs. Lee watch us. I can’t help but notice the way she narrows her eyes at me. Reis sets me on my feet a few moments later and pats the top of my head. “Shrimp,” he whispers, adoringly.
Reis stands by my side, keeping his arms around me, like now that I’m back, he’s afraid to let me go. It’s a little unnerving. Mrs. Lee clears her throat. “I bring in the groceries,” she says, leaving the three of us in the kitchen.
“Can you find him?” McAllister asks, his expression somber. Even though he’s a dirt bag, I can tell he loves his son. It softens me toward him the slightest bit.
“I’ll track him down.”
He nods. “Thank you.”
Reis holds my hand, petting his thumb across the back of my hand repeatedly.
McAllister watches us with a curious expression. “Reis, can I talk to you a minute?” he asks.
Reis gives my hand a squeeze and then follows his dad from the room.
I walk to the hutch at the other end of the kitchen and pick up the photo of Colt and Reis. He’s so insanely handsome. Where are you Colt?
I hear rustling behind me and turn to see Mrs. Lee wresting a bag of groceries bigger than her up onto the island. She watches me with a guarded expression.
She gestures to the photo in my hands. “You pick.”
I look down and return the picture to the shelf with trembling hands.
“You no toy with them.” She wags her finger at me.
I nod, stunned at her harshness.
When Reis and McAllister come back into the kitchen, Reis heads to me, but Mrs. Lee incepts him, fussing over his freshly removed stiches, lifting his chin to inspect the line of tender skin. She loudly kisses his cheek and pats his chest, giving me the evil eye as she examines him. Her warmth toward me from the homecoming dance as evaporated.
Reis pulls me upstairs, carrying my laptop in front of him likes it’s a prized possession. I set to work at his computer desk while he paces the room.
“Reis, sit. This isn’t like in the movies. It’s going to take a while.”
He nods and collapses on the bed with a deep sigh.
An hour later, after reading through the case file on Colt’s computer and tracking the emails between him and Geoffrey, I think I’m onto something. We knew that Colt was headed to New Jersey, but now I have an address. His assignment was to gather intelligence on two suspected terrorists, and they’d recently leased on old warehouse, which based on a simple search I discover is vacant and on an isolated country road. Needless to say, it’s very out of the way. Who knows what could be going on there. Certainly nothing good.
McAllister pokes his head inside the doorway. “Find anything?”
“I think I know where he is.”
Reis leaps from the bed and McAllister crosses the room in two strides. They hover over my shoulders, looking at the satellite image of the warehouse.
“I’ll go get him.” McAllister programs the address into his phone.
“No.” I stand. “I need to be the one to get him.”
His face is pure confusion and disbelief. “It’s not safe.”
“I know.” He’s right. It will be dangerous, but something tells me I need to be the one to do this. No matter how much I want to prove to Colt that I’m worth his love, I’m not that dumb. There’s just something nagging inside me that tell me I need to be the one. “I could run into a dead end with this warehouse and I’ll have my laptop. It has to be me. Trust me?”
He nods. “If you’re sure this is what you want, I suppose it’s the least I could do. I know I’ve made plenty of mistakes, but I love my sons – fiercely.” He drapes an arm over Reis’ shoulders.
“I know. I’ll bring him home.”
When McAllister sees I’ve driven the truck here, he insists I take his Jaguar. It’s more reliable than the old truck, and will certainly be faster.
I pull to a stop outside the warehouse and leave the car running. I’ll knock on the door and if someone’s here, I’ll play stupid and say I’m lost and ask for directions. And if no one answers, I plan to sneak in and search for Colt.
I take a few deep breaths and double check the utility knife McAllister shoved in my purse before I left.
I can do this. I repeat the silent mantra in my head. It’s go time.
The steel door in the front is pad locked with thick chains. Crap. I take a deep breath and knock on the door. My stomach tingles with nerves and my hands are shaking. This feels like a terrible idea. But if someone answers, I remind myself, I’ll fake my best dumb teenage girl who took a wrong turn in Daddy’s car and needs help back to the highway. Of course I’m praying that no one answers and I can get inside and rescue Colt. This will work. It has to.
After knocking for several minutes, no one answers, and I don’t hear any noises from inside. I’m wasting time. If Colt’s not here, I need to move onto plan B. I walk around the side of the building, and drag an upturned crate over to the window, standing on top of it to look inside. The window is too dirty, inside and out to see through. I push against it and miraculously it slides open.
I hoist myself up and through he open window and as I drop to the floor, my only thought before I hit the concrete is, man this is dumb.
I ignore a sharp pain that shoots up my spine and inspect my surroundings. The building is dim and completely silent. The large room I’m in is empty, except for various mechanical equipment scattered haphazardly. I scramble to my feet and shuffle across the room to an open doorway. I hug the wall and peer through. The room is small and damp and in a darkened corner sits a lone folding chair, a guy slumped over and tied to it. Colt! My heart pounds erratically. He’s here. I bite my lip and listen for any sounds of movement. The warehouse is eerily silent.