Chapter 29
DASH
“She’s gone, Dash.”
I sit up in my bed and flip the covers off.
“What do you mean she’s gone, Hendrix? You were supposed to be with her,” I say in a heated tone.
I’m out of bed and shoving my legs into my jeans as quick as I can.
He lets out a defeated sigh. “She remembered something, and it shifted her off her axis, Dash. There was no talking her down or reeling her back in. I couldn’t see her face when she remembered whatever she did, but she screamed like she was on fire.
And once she stopped and finally faced us, she had this look in her eye like she was… ” He falls silent.
“Like she was what, Hendrix? Spit it out!”
“It was like she was telling us goodbye. Like she was heading into a war she knew she’d never survive but was going to fight anyway. She’s going after him, Dash, and I don’t think she expects to still be standing after she does. And none of us can find her,” he says.
“Shit,” I say as I grip my hair and pull hard. I should’ve known my Valkyrie would do something crazy. She’s fearless when it comes to those she loves.
I try to refocus because me losing my cool now isn’t going to save her.
“How long has she been missing?” I ask.
“It’s been two days,” he admits.
I drop the phone. Anything could have happened in that amount of time.
I swipe the phone from the floor. “I’ll call you back. If you hear anything, I’m your first call, you got it?”
“Yep,” he says.
I grab the first shirt I see and find my keys on my nightstand.
By the time I’m in my truck, I’ve got Jimmy on the phone.
I explain what Hendrix just revealed to me, and he also shares the news his computer forensic investigator found.
My camera system was indeed hacked, meaning someone erased footage of themselves at my house the night of Lennon and London’s wreck.
It makes me sick to my stomach to think someone was breaking into my garage to steal my car and destroy everything for all of us.
But anger takes the steering wheel before I can dissect any other emotion.
“Be ready to arrest me, because if he’s touched her, I’ll kill him with my bare hands,” I tell him.
“Shit, Dash. You can’t say stuff like that to me. I’m a cop,” he says.
“I don’t care. Do you understand?”
“Where are you headed?” he asks.
“I’m going to start at her house. I’ll let you know what I find,” I tell him before ending the call.
Once I arrive at her house, I use my extra key I had made before giving one to Hendrix so he could check on her. Part of me wants to slap myself for that decision, but I thought I was doing the right thing. I never imagined she’d developed some sort of real feelings for him.
I walk through every room in her house and find them empty. I open the door to the garage and find her black GTO missing. At least it’s something. I know what car to be looking for since her dad would’ve checked Tyler Motorsports and anything that belongs to it first.
I decide to check her bedroom again and I spot some clothes wadded up on her bed.
I pick them up and a pit forms in my stomach. It’s the shirts from the accident. Both of them. I don’t know what she remembered to set her off on this fool’s mission, but I can guess it has something to do with how she ended up wearing London’s shirt.
I pull out my cell phone, deciding to call her even though I know she won’t answer.
As expected, it goes straight to voicemail. She hasn’t set up a voice greeting yet, so I listen to the generic voice ask me to leave a message after the tone.
“Valkyrie, it’s me. I need you to stop whatever it is you’re planning to do. I need to know you’re okay. Please call me back. I need to hear your voice. I love you.”
I end the call after leaving my message and try to think. Where could she be? What could she have done?
I’m at a loss, so I decide to test my luck at Tyler Motorsports anyway.
When I get there, I see all the usual vehicles. Even Lincoln Tyler’s. I curse myself. I’ve been hiding out in my house and numbing the pain with whiskey while I let everyone else try to protect my girl. They’ve all been going about daily life as I’ve been drowning my hangovers with more liquor.
I walk inside the building and straight to Lincoln Tyler’s office. I want to throttle this man. I used to respect him until he told Lennon to stay away from me. Until he accused me of being the reason his daughter is dead.
He looks up from his computer when I enter. I shut his door behind me. He appears to have lost weight and the dark circles under his eyes are telling a story of sleepless nights.
As much as I’d love to clock him in the jaw, I recognize we have one goal in common…finding Lennon and bringing her back safely.
He stands and lifts his chin like he’s preparing for a fight. “What are you doing here, Dash?”
“Where have you looked and what do you know?” I ask.
He hangs his head and his shoulders drop.
“Everywhere we know to look.”
“Why in the hell didn’t you call me?” I demand.
“The first day, we were just trying to give her space. But when it was time to check in on her whether she wanted us to or not and couldn’t find her…” He shakes his head.
“I don’t like you, Dash. But if you can help me find my baby girl, I’ll owe you the world.”
That’s easy and I seize my opportunity.
“All I want is her. I love her. She’s the one for me. If she’ll still have me, I don’t want you to stand in our way anymore,” I say.
He rubs the scruff on his chin.
“I promise, I won’t hold you back,” he says.
“I’d help you find her no matter what, but you said you’d owe me anything. You understand?”
He nods with a slightly discernable smirk.
I lean toward his desk like I’m about to spill a secret.
“You do like me. You always have. You just never wanted me for Lennon. That’s when you turned on me,” I tell him.
He doesn’t respond, but he shakes his head with a grin.
“So, what do you need from me, Dash?”
“Well, are there any signs she was here at all?” he asks.
“No, nothing. It’s like she’s turned into the ghost everyone still thinks she is,” he says with a frown.
I turn for the door, and he follows.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m checking her race car,” I answer.
He’s right behind me as my long strides carry me to her car. I’m getting lots of curious glances. No, scratch that. I’m getting pointed stares as the big boss man who is known for not wanting me anywhere near his daughter trails me toward her car.
He stands next to it on the passenger side with his muscular arms crossed over his chest as I lean in the driver’s side. He’s watching, but I tune him out.
“Come on, Valkyrie. Give me something,” I mutter to myself.
I don’t see anything. And that’s the problem. Her helmet and gloves aren’t on the seat. I push my body away from her car and hang my head while gripping the side of her door hard enough to dent the metal.
“What?” Lincoln asks instantly, knowing I’ve found something.
“Where’s her helmet?” I ask as quietly as possible. We still don’t need to leak the fact that she’s really Lennon to anyone who might be listening. We don’t know who we can trust.
He glances in her car and his face pales. “I have no idea.”
“I thought you checked everything,” I say, frustrated.
“I didn’t come and search this car, Dash. Why would I?” he asks. His face is marred with confusion and frustration as he stares me down with flared nostrils and a furrowed brow.
“Because I know her. And I’m betting anything she remembered enough to narrow down who she’s dealing with. Maybe not the exact person, but she’s got enough to flush them out.”
“With her helmet?” he asks, clearly not following what I’m saying.
I walk around the car to him, making sure I’m not able to be heard by anyone but him.
“How well do you know your team? Her team?” I ask pointedly. There’s no time to beat around the bush.
“I trust them all. What are you saying? Spit it out,” he says through clenched teeth.
“I’m saying exactly what you think I am. Her stalker is someone close to her. Someone she trusts. Someone you trust. And it’s someone here on one of your teams, but I’d bet anything it’s someone from hers,” I explain with every drop of conviction in me.
His face doesn’t pale this time. Quite the opposite. He turns so many shades of red I think he might be physically choking on his rage.
We’re drawing attention, so before he can react further, I shake my head at him, and he presses his lips together. I motion for him to follow me, and he does. All the way to my truck in the parking lot.
“How many people are on her team?” I ask.
“Ten, I think. But every one of them has been with her for years. Most of them grew up with her for heaven’s sake. You’ve gotta be wrong,” he says. But I think he knows I’m not.
“Is anyone missing today? Or has anyone been acting differently?” I ask.
He stares at his building. “No. No, everyone has been normal. I mean, her team has been working extra hard since they all think she’s dead, but they’re grieving. Trying to stay busy.”
“Busy doing what?” I ask, because to me, the picture is starting to come into pretty damn good focus.
He covers his mouth with his hand in thought. “Uh, when they aren’t helping Jackson prep for his races, they’ve been doing some body work. Just practicing to pass the time,” he says.
“Damn it all to hell,” I say as I grip the steering wheel.
“What?” he asks.
“My Shelby Mustang was the car used to run her off the road, I can’t prove it without more evidence, but I’m betting someone in there has all the proof I need,” I say as I point to Tyler Motorsports.
“How do you know?” he asks. I can’t explain I was having sex with his daughter on the hood of my car and how it triggered her to remember, but I can explain her memory of my car when I was following her back to town.
“She remembered my car chasing them that night. It was what finally brought her memory back. I was driving behind her one night and it all clicked for her because of how my car looked in her rearview mirror,” I explain.
“I don’t understand,” he says.
“I didn’t either. But I told her it had to be a car like mine, but the truth is, there aren’t many Shelby Mustangs like mine on the road.
Still, it took her accusation and her needing space from me after that memory crashed into her for me to examine my car.
I was losing my mind trying to give her space and wondering if we could ever come back from this mess and have a future. And that’s when I saw it,” I tell him.
“I started to search every inch of my car, and at first, I came up empty. But then something on my headlight caught my eye and I saw it. It’s a long scratch.
I don’t drive it much and I’ve never damaged it in any way.
Upon further inspection, evidence was found where clips had once been and then removed.
I never had anything like that put on it, and I’m the only owner. ”
“Clips for what?” he asks even though he knows.
“For whatever guard someone had mounted to it,” I say bluntly.
His jaw muscle is jumping.
“Don’t you have cameras?” he asks.
“Ironically, not in my garage of all places, no. But I have a friend who’s a cop and he could tell my cameras had been tampered with. His computer forensic investigator just informed us.”
He curses under his breath.
“So, someone stole your car to frame you?” he asks trying to wrap his head around this messed-up situation.
“It would seem so. I just got word about the evidence of clips. Jimmy, the officer I’m friends with, found it, but no prints,” I explain.
“What now?” he asks. “How does this help us find her?”
“If I know her as well as I think I do, she’s going to draw him out with a race,” I tell him.
“I don’t understand,” he says.
“I don’t either but trust me. She’s going to stay the ghost everyone thinks she is until the exact moment she’s ready to show herself. And when she does, there’ll be no missing it.”