HARLEY
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The guys and I got a decent amount packed up and ready to take over to Embers—our—place.
I can’t stop the grin that’s taken up permanent residence on my face since this morning when Ember asked me to move in with her.
The guys have been relentless in their teasing of me.
I’ll take my title of “whipped” any day if it means spending every morning waking up to Ember.
I’m not even a cat guy, but I ordered a new cat tree for Maggie this morning.
I texted Ember that I was on my way to the bookshop about fifteen minutes ago.
The copy I’d made of the house key earlier sits in my pocket.
I pull into the parallel parking spot in front of the shop and see the front lights are off, but can still see the back lights on.
I check my phone to see if Ember has responded to my text, and seeing that she hasn’t, I turn off the truck and head to the door.
The doorbell rings when I push the door open.
“Hey babe!” I yell into the shop. “I have that key for you.” I walk deeper into the shop, stopping at the counter when I see all of Ember’s stuff. “Babe?” I yell again. No answer.
I walk back into the back area she sometimes sits in, and find nothing. Panic starts setting in. She would have never left all of her stuff. She would have never left the shop open.
I pull out my phone and call her. It rings until it sends me to voicemail.
I hang up and try again—still no answer.
I head out the door and look around. I don’t see Ember’s car out front, so it must be in the employee spot behind the building.
I walk to the back lot and see her car, it’s off and still in its spot.
I get to her car and try to open the driver side door, but it’s locked.
Nothing is making sense. I turn to run back inside, but I’m stopped when I hear something coming from the dumpster area. I sprint over to it and open the bin. Opening the lid, I move trash bags around, searching for the source of the noise. I don’t see anything.
I slam the lid down, and my breaths are starting to come in fast and deep, panic rising in my chest. I hear the noise again, but it’s coming from behind the dumpster.
I race around and find a kitten trapped.
Near the trap, I see uneven scuff marks in the dirt.
I follow the trail, finding two large footprints that disappear where tire tracks appear.
I bend at the waist and empty the contents of my stomach. Dean got her. I know it. I dial Chase and try to form words, but I’m choking as I try to speak.
“Harley?” Chase questions over the speakerphone after my silence. I try to answer and get sick again. “Hey man, you need us to ride up there?” he asks, and I can already hear the truck door slam.
“Ember,” is all I can manage before the tears are streaming down my face.
I take a few more moments to pull myself together. I take pictures of the scuff marks, boots, and tire tracks. Once I’ve sent the pictures to Chase, I dial the Officer who helped us that day at Atlas and Asher’s place.
“Officer Ulrich,” his rough voice speaks through the line.
“Officer, this is Harley Blackwood.” I wipe my face and try to clear my voice. “I think Dean took Ember.”
“Do you have any evidence to support the accusation?” he asks, and I hear his radio in the background.
“I came to the shop to drop off a key, and the shop was unlocked, Ember’s stuff is still here. Her car is here.” My voice is starting to fail me. “I came out back to see if her car was here and found a trapped kitten, and there’s a disturbance in the dirt back here.” The tears start again.
“I’m on my way and dispatching back up, please return to your vehicle and do not disturb the scene,” Officer Ulrich commands.
We hang up and I dial Chase, but then I see his truck pull in across the street and quickly hang up again.
Him, Grey, and Andrews run across the street together, meeting me at the truck.
“Dude, what the fuck is going on?” Grey asks, confusion etched onto his face.
“I got here and all her stuff is here, but she’s gone,” I tell them. “I sent you the pictures of the markings I found out back.”
Chase pulls out his phone and studies the pictures before looking up with worry and fear written across his face. “I’m gonna send these off to our guy and see what he can pull for me,” he says quickly, before turning away from us and dialing for extra help.
Officer Ulrich pulls into the entrance of the parking lot. He gets out of the car and slams the door shut. “Mr. Blackwood.” He sticks his hand out to shake hands. “Please stay here so I can assess the scene inside.” I nod my head, and he disappears into the shop.
I cross my arms and chew on my bottom lip, rocking back and forth on my heels. Chase comes back over and leans his head down, speaking low enough that only the four of us can hear. “Avery confirms shoe size as eleven and a half, and car tires fit a Dodge Caravan.”
“Dean drives a Nissan Altima?” I say, attempting to make sense of this. If it’s not him, who the fuck could have taken her?
The doorbell on the store rings as Officer Ulrich exits the building. “Two out, over and out,” a voice over the radio says.
“Copy.” Officer Ulrich presses the button on his radio as he approaches. “Mr. Blackwood, our crime scene team is on the way. I do have reason to believe Ms. Alden may be in danger. Have you contacted her next of kin?” he asks, looking at me. Fuck, I didn’t even think of Atlas.
“I’ll call now,” I tell him, pulling up Asher’s contact information. The phone rings a few times before Asher’s voice comes on the line.
“Hey man, what’s up?” Asher says, completely relaxed, and my stomach immediately drops.
“Ash,” I say, trying not to throw up again. “I don’t know how to say this, so I have to just say it. I think Dean took Ember.”
“What the fuck do you mean?” he says, panic rising in his voice, and I can hear a door click.
“I came to drop off a key for Ember at the bookstore, and she wasn’t here. I went out back and found impressions in the dirt. I called the cops, and he’s called in CSI,” I tell him quickly, trying not to lose my nerve.
“God damn it,” he says, and I can hear the stress in his voice. “Atlas is going to fucking lose it, dude. We’re on our way.” He ends the call. This is going to break Atlas’s heart.
Once Atlas and Asher arrive at the bookstore, everything happens in a blur.
CSI comes in and begins their assessment of the crime scene.
The severity of the situation and the realization that CSI is looking for the love of my life is tearing me up inside.
Atlas hasn’t stopped sobbing since the moment she arrived.
She called their parents and Ensley shortly after they arrived.
Ensley is on her way already, and her parents are looking for tickets.
Chase and the boys are standing off to the side, surveying everything and silently trying to get more information that isn’t being offered up to the family.
Chase is working on the footage from the traffic light at the four-way stop light before you turn into the bookshop parking lot behind the building.
Officer Ulrich approaches Atlas, Asher, and I just as Atlas’s phone rings.
Without hesitation, her hands are frantic, trying to get her phone out of her pocket.
My heart is beating out of my chest. I’m silently hoping and praying it’s Ember with some crazy story explaining where she’s at. That she’s safe and sound.
Looking over at Atlas’s phone, “Charlee” is pasted to the top of the phone screen. Atlas mashes the green button down. “Charlee? Is everything okay?” Atlas’s hands tremble, the phone stuck to her ear. Her eyes flash up and connect with mine, and my heart sinks.
“You’re on speaker, Charlee,” Atlas says aloud, eyes not leaving mine. Tears stream down her face.
“It was a half-day and Rawley was walking home from the bus.” Her voice wavers before she continues. “He ran inside, he was out of breath, and he said some older guy tried to get him into his car with him.” She lets out a sob, and my stomach turns.
“Ma’am, this is Officer Ulrich, did he give a description of the vehicle or the man?” he asks, looking for any sliver of information.
“He finally calmed down, he said the car was blue,” she chokes out. “He said the man had sandy brown hair and blue eyes. He was in the car, so he didn’t get any height.” Her breathing rises, and we can clearly hear her loudly blowing out her breath, trying to remain calm.
Chase whistles at me from across the parking lot, and I look at Asher to let him know I’ll be right back. “What do you have, man, I’m going out of my mind.”
Chase looks at me with a deep crease in his forehead and his lips clenched tightly together. “We were able to get footage from the cameras.” He offers up his phone to me, not giving any further explanation, just letting the video speak for him.
On the screen, I watch as Ember walks around the back of the building and slings the bag of garbage into the dumpster.
She turns to walk inside, but stops. She pivots back to the dumpster and walks around the back of the bin, just like I had.
I see her crouch down. The moment she lowers to the ground, we see a hooded body run onto the screen and bring their arm around to place a piece of cloth over her face.
Ember puts up a fight, but her petite body is no match for the lean, hooded figure.
After around thirty seconds of her fighting, her body goes limp and her knees crumple.
Before she hits the ground, the figure kneels down and throws her unconscious body over their shoulder.
The figure, with a ski mask over their face, turns and begins walking to the corner of the screen.
Then we see the front end of a Dodge Caravan come into the frame, and the door slides open on the other side.
We can’t see the whole van, but I can make out another hooded figure on the driver's side, a bandana covering his face below the eyes. The masked figure who carried Ember lays her softly onto the bench seat before abruptly shoving the sliding door closed and peeling out of the driveway. They take a right once they pull out of the parking lot, no license plate on the back of the van, and keep going straight until they’re no longer in sight.
Chase puts his hand on my shoulder and gives me a squeeze. “What was the call the Officer took over?” he asks.
“Dean tried to pick Rawley up on his way home from school, but the kid took off before anything could happen,” I tell him, running my hand down my face.
I look up at the guys, and each one has confusion written across their face.
Shit. They don’t know about Rawley. I want to respect Ember and Rawley’s privacy, but right now, the more they know, the better their chance of helping us.
Right now, their safety is more important.
I blow out a breath. “Rawley is Ember’s biological son,” I begin telling them.
The shock hits each one of them. Eyebrows rise.
Sounds of their breaths releasing fill the space between us.
“We just got confirmation. Total freak coincidence,” I continue.
“It sounds like Dean may have figured out who Rawley is, and tried taking him and Ember.”
“What do you want us to do man?” Gray asks me, reaching over to pat me on the back.
I stand there for a moment, contemplating my next move. “Track the van with street cameras. Let’s see what we can find out.”
Officer Ulrich moves towards us, leaving Asher and Atlas to hold onto each other for support.
“Do we want to clue him in on what we found or fly under the radar?” Andrews asks in a low tone as he keeps his eyes locked on the officer.
“Let’s keep this on the low and see if he’s got any more information that might help us,” I tell him in a hushed tone.
Officer Ulrich reaches us and claps his hand on my back.
“I know this has to be rough, Mr. Blackwood, and we’re doing everything we can to acquire as much information as possible.
We want to locate Ms. Alden and get her back home safe to her family.
” He crosses his arms over the front of his chest and he widens his stance.
“Now, Mr. Blackwood.” His eyes reach mine.
“I’m well educated on your background, and I want to remind you that this is my investigation. ”
I keep my eyes locked with his. “I’m not sure how you had time to investigate me, but you weren’t able to locate Dean Michael and keep my girlfriend out of harm's way?” My breathing is anything but even.
Heat rises in my body. “You expect me to sit here and do nothing? You couldn’t even serve this motherfucker with a piece of paper?
” My voice is filled with rage, and despite everything I stand for with the law, my level of respect is dwindling down to nothing for the man standing before me.
“I understand your frustration—” Officer Ulrich starts, putting his hand up to calm me.
“No sir, I don’t think you do!” My body is pumping now with adrenaline. “Because if this was someone you loved, you would do anything possible to bring your person home.” I turn to leave the area, heading back to Atlas and Asher before hearing anything else he says.