26. Brian
26
brIAN
E veryone had been on edge for the last five days, ever since Detective Ted Hughes found Drew Lopez—a younger version of him—in the system. Though Lopez faced rape charges in his youth, they didn’t stick, and authorities hadn’t been able to find a connection between Lopez and Miguel Rivera. But Ted was still looking.
Knox and I had kept a constant watch over Grace, but there were no signs of a stalker—no shadowy figure lurking in the darkness, no feeling of being watched. If Lopez was out there and spotted us guarding her, he probably slunk back into whatever hole he’d crawled out of. Smart move on his part. The desert had plenty of secluded spots perfect for an unmarked grave.
Nevertheless, as strong as Grace was, I could tell her armor of steel was cracking. Ten years of wondering if Zane Smith would exact his revenge were taking shape and rattling her nerves, as well as mine. I would kill for her if it came down to it without a second thought.
I crossed the lobby in my apartment building, my boots scuffing along the tile floor as I headed to the security desk.
Ray, an older gentleman, looked up from the book he was reading on World War II.
“You said you had an envelope for me and it was urgent?” I asked.
“Mr. Allan from the management company left you a voicemail two days ago but also wanted to follow up with this letter.” He handed me the envelope. “My predecessor on shift earlier should’ve dropped it off at your apartment. I would’ve, but it’s late.”
I looked through my phone. “I don’t have a voicemail from Mr. Allan.”
“You have a message center on the one in your apartment,” he said. “Didn’t he go over that with you when you signed the papers?”
“If he did, I forgot about it.” With everything going on since I’d moved to Boston, I barely had a moment to breathe. “Though the management company should also call my cell.”
“Agreed,” Ray said.
I couldn’t shoot the messenger. “I’ll take care of this.” I waved the envelope. “Thanks.”
As I was backtracking to the elevator, a text came in from Chris Vargas.
Chris: It’s late. If you’re up, call me. I have news on Arturo’s drug shipment.
I didn’t give a fuck about Arturo. However, he’d been calling me all week. It wasn’t like I could pull a rabbit out of my ass and know who’d stolen his shit.
Before I returned to the apartment, I got Chris on the phone.
“Hey, man,” Chris said after the first ring. “Sorry it’s taken so long to get back to you. No one on the street is talking, but I managed to pull it out of one of my colleagues who deals with Arturo more than me. Word on the street is Arturo’s main enforcer, Jorge Moreno, fucked him. He intercepted the drug shipment. I hear there’s a war about to start with the cartel. If I were you, man, I wouldn’t be anywhere near it.”
“I don’t plan on it. You should do the same.”
He let out a strangled laugh. “I wish I could. But selling drugs is my lifeblood.”
“I’ll relay this to Arturo. Stay safe.” I stabbed the elevator button. “And thanks, Chris. I owe you.”
I opened the envelope on the way to my apartment. I read the letter once, then twice, then laughed. In a nutshell, the tenants were complaining about a mob-looking guy hanging around in the lobby. Knox wasn’t working tonight. Duke and I had decided to give the bodyguard the night off, since Grace was with me. The letter also served as a warning that if there was any trouble, management would terminate my lease.
Like I gave a fuck.
I was shaking my head as I got off the elevator and heard a scream.
Grace?
I bolted down the hallway.
My next-door neighbor, Mrs. Jackson, came out into the hallway. “She’s been screaming on and off. What’s going on?”
I apologized to the gray-haired woman. “Night terrors.”
I fished my keys out of my pocket with shaky fingers and unlocked the door, ignoring Mrs. Jackson as she mumbled something about how bad night terrors could be.
Grace was pounding on the window.
Fear whipped through me as I rushed over to her. I doubted she could break the window, but weirder things had happened in the world.
I gently grabbed her arms from behind. “Baby girl.”
She spun around and swung at me. Dillon had mentioned sleepwalking. I wrapped my arms around her with no idea how to handle this. But I had to wake her up. She fought me off.
“Grace.” I raised my voice, holding her face in my hands. “Wake up. It’s me, Brian.”
She stilled.
I kissed her on the lips. “Baby girl.”
She blinked, and the zombie state she was in vanished. “What are you doing?”
I guided her to the couch. “You were sleepwalking.”
She absently glanced around, confused, as her forehead wrinkled.
“You were screaming too.” I sat down next to her. “Do you remember?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I held her in my arms.
We had to find Lopez. Ted and his team were trying to do exactly that. Until we did, the silent threat would continue to tear Grace to pieces.
The lights of Boston twinkled, like a sea of stars casting shadows that danced along the floor in my apartment.
The wall phone trilled.
Motherfucker .
Maybe Ray had forgotten to give me something else. Either that or someone was here to see me.
“I’m fine,” Grace said. “I need to use the bathroom.”
She rubbed her eyes as she wound her way through the place.
I watched her until she disappeared around the corner, the annoying ring rattling my nerves. The sound stopped, only to start up again.
I stomped across the living room to the kitchen and yanked the receiver off its base. “Ray, what is it?” My tone was harsh and gruff.
“So very sorry to disturb you, Mr. McCauley. You have two guests demanding to see you? Mrs. Janet Welby and her daughter, Nora.”
“Who?” I heard him, but I needed to hear the names again.
“Janet Welby,” Ray said, “and her daughter.”
“Is there another girl with them? Blond hair?”
“No.”
I had exchanged text messages with Fran last night. Janet was supposed to drive Nora and Fran back to the academy tomorrow, which was the end of their spring break.
“Sir,” Ray said, pulling me out of a meltdown I was about to have.
“Send them up.” I slammed the phone down on its base.
Then I called my daughter. The line immediately went to her voicemail.
“Darling, it’s your dad. Call me as soon as you get this.” My pulse reverberated in my ears, sounding like a series of explosives being detonated.
I texted my daughter. Sometimes, she responded to texts faster than she would a phone call.
Sweat beaded on my forehead. I suddenly felt dizzy as I walked out of the apartment and stood in the hallway, waiting for the elevator door to open.
“Brian?” Grace came out, appearing more like herself. “What’s going on?”
“Not sure yet. But it’s not good.”
“Is it Lopez?” Fear coated her siren voice.
Shit. “No, Fran’s best friend, Nora, is here with her mother.”
She hooked her arm through mine. “And Fran?”
“That’s the problem.”
She slapped a hand over her mouth.
All I could think about was a car accident. Fran’s mother had died in one. Then Arturo came to mind, but I had no beef with him anymore unless he was pissed that I hadn’t found anything out about his shipment. I wouldn’t put it past him to fuck with me.
The elevator dinged before Janet and Nora emerged. Nora appeared to be crying while Janet, ever the stoic woman, moved her brown hair off her forehead as she held her head high.
I fisted my hands at my sides. “What happened to Fran?” My voice cracked, or maybe it was a tooth.
Janet glanced around the quiet hall. “Let’s talk inside so as not to disturb your neighbors.”
They were already disturbed by Grace screaming. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs. Jackson poked out her head again.
“Fuck them. Where is my daughter?” My tone bordered on a yell that could wake the dead.
Tears flowed down Nora’s cheeks.
Grace held on to my arm. Thank fuck. Otherwise, I might punch the wall.
“Is it a car accident?” My heart was in my throat.
“Can we please go inside?” Janet grabbed Nora’s shoulders. “Come on, love. You need to calm down.”
Mother and daughter went into the apartment before Grace and me.
Grace touched my face. “Brian, breathe.”
I couldn’t. I couldn’t even feel my legs.
“I got you,” Grace said as she guided me to a chair across from Nora and Janet, who were sitting on the couch.
Thank fuck Grace was at my side. Otherwise, I might collapse. As it stood, my legs were weak. “Talk,” I commanded.
Grace dropped down to perch on the arm of my chair.
Nora bawled as though I’d slapped her.
Janet rested her hands in her lap. “I’m here because I felt this discussion needed to be in person. I’m sure everything is fine. Fran spent the afternoon with Ryan Montgomery. He wanted to take her to Faneuil Hall for lunch. I told her to be back by six for dinner, but they haven’t returned yet.”
Nora’s lips trembled. “We’ve been calling Fran’s phone and Ryan’s. We keep getting their voicemails.”
I dug my elbows in my knees. “Why are you in Boston and not the Cape?”
“We came back a day early,” Janet said. “The girls lied and told me they were tired of the beach, but Fran wanted to see Ryan.” She glared at her daughter. “I called Ryan’s mother but no answer. I even called Ryan’s counselor, Josh, from the Boys & Girls Clubs. I think you met the man at the banquet. He’s trying to track down Ryan. I’m waiting for him to call me back. I was hoping they would show before now.”
“Fran was supposed to be under your supervision!” I shouted.
Janet lifted her palms. “I know. I’m so sorry. Ryan is a good kid. I thought it would be fine. I’m sure they lost track of time. You know how teenagers in love can be?”
“No, I don’t.” I snapped as I jumped to my feet.
Janet didn’t know much about my childhood, but teenage puppy love wasn’t even in my vocabulary. That wasn’t the issue. For all I knew, Ryan wasn’t a good kid. I would seriously strangle him if anything happened to my daughter.
Grace was calm, cool, and collected, as though she’d dealt with a loved one missing. “Not all teenagers experience that, Janet. I didn’t.”
I paced. “Nora, Fran told me that you two looked into Ryan’s background and didn’t find anything odd, right?”
I was kicking myself in the ass for not doing the one thing I should’ve done—my own background investigation.
“No, Mr. McCauley. If we had, Fran wouldn’t have gone out with him.”
“I didn’t want to call the police before telling you,” Janet said, “but I have one of my employees at Marsh Technologies checking the hospitals in Boston.”
Grace rose. “I’ll call Ted.” She followed that statement by explaining, for Janet’s sake, that Ted was family and in charge of the gang unit for BPD.
“I’ll be right back.” I needed a minute to compose myself, a quiet space to think.
I beelined it for my bedroom, walked into my closet, and punched in the code to my safe. Before I pulled out my gun, I called Fran again as tears burned hot and bright.
When her voicemail picked up, I lost it. Tears poured out before I could stop them. I couldn’t lose her. All I could think of at the moment was sex trafficking. Fran was a prime candidate—young and pretty. But I’d schooled my daughter on that very topic. Even Grace had given her pointers as to what to be aware of when it came to sex trafficking.
While Grace phoned Ted, I needed my best friend.
I tucked my gun in the back of my jeans then leaned against the closet wall and called Duke.
As soon as the line connected, Duke asked, “Is Grace okay?”
“Fine, it’s Fran. She might be missing.”
“What?”
I explained to Duke everything Janet had relayed then shuddered.
“Fuck,” Duke growled through the line. “Do you think this Ryan kid is shady?”
“My first impression was yes. I’m beating my head against the wall for not looking into his background, although Fran and her friend did. They found nothing.”
“Fran checked him out?” Duke chuckled. “Wow. Like father, like daughter.”
“She’s smart, man,” I said. “She’s a good reader of people too.” I rubbed a dull pain in my chest. “Grace is calling Ted as we speak. I need to do something. I can’t just sit around.”
“I’m on my way.”
After we hung up, I didn’t move for a long minute. My mind was going places it shouldn’t. I gulped in a deep breath and shook off the morbid thoughts filling my head. I had to believe Janet might be right. Fran and Ryan must have lost track of time.
My little girl was fine. I repeated that line as I closed the safe then returned to the living room.
Janet and Nora hadn’t moved from the couch.
“Where’s Grace?” I asked.
“She said to tell you she needed some air, so she went down to the lobby to call Ted,” Janet said.
I couldn’t blame Grace, especially after she’d woken up from sleepwalking. Just the same, I called the lobby to check with Ray.
“Yes, Mr. McCauley,” Ray said.
“Is Grace down there?”
“Yes, sir. She’s sitting on the couch in the lounge.”
My racing heart slowed for a moment. I wouldn’t be able to handle both Grace and Fran missing at the same time.