Chapter 40
CHAPTER
FORTY
The team clustered in the hallway outside the radio studio, coffee cups in hand, badges still clipped to their jackets. A producer paced nearby, murmuring into a headset while a muffled burst of laughter drifted from behind the closed studio door.
Andi wished they could talk on-air about what was happening. Maybe someone out there knew something that would help them find Gina.
But one wrong move, and Gina could die.
She didn’t think the man who’d sent her that message was bluffing.
Andi stepped a few feet away and tried Kate again.
The call went straight to voicemail.
She lowered the phone slowly, resisting the urge to stare at the screen as if it might explain itself. People missed calls. Phones died. Meetings ran long. She knew all that.
People also changed. Maybe Kate wasn’t as responsible as she once was.
Still.
She slipped the phone into her pocket just as the studio door opened and the producer popped her head out. “We’re ready for you.”
The radio spot passed in a blur.
Headphones on. Voices bright and friendly. Questions about the tour, about LA, about what listeners could expect over the weekend.
Andi answered her questions smoothly, the rhythm of it all muscle memory by now, even as a quiet part of her mind kept circling the same unanswered questions.
When it was over, the team filtered back into the corridor.
Andi checked her phone again.
Nothing.
She leaned briefly against the wall and pulled up a search, typing Kate’s name. A moment later, an address appeared.
She lived less than fifteen minutes from the studio.
If something had come up—a last-minute obligation, a forgotten meeting, a sick pet—Andi would feel ridiculous for worrying this much.
But the fastest way to quiet the unease was to see for herself.
She caught Duke’s eye and tipped her head toward the elevators. “Can we talk a second?”
He followed without comment.
“I want to swing by Kate’s place,” she said once they were out of earshot. “Just to make sure everything’s okay.”
Duke studied her expression, reading more into what she didn’t say than what she did. “I’ll drive.”
Relief flickered through her. “Thank you.”
They told the team what they were doing before leaving together.
Whatever was waiting for them across town, Andi knew she wouldn’t be facing it alone.
The drive to Kate’s was quiet.
As Duke watched the streets roll by, his thoughts still churned.
“You still think you’re overreacting?” he asked Andi as they turned onto a narrower residential road.
Andi gave a small, rueful smile. “Probably. But I won’t know until I check.”
“That’s reason enough.”
They pulled into a low-slung apartment complex tucked a few blocks off the main road—one of those older LA places that looked more like a retro motel than housing.
The building formed a shallow U around a cracked concrete courtyard, doors opening directly to the outside.
A faded neon Vacancy sign still buzzed weakly above the office, even though Duke doubted it had been accurate in years.
Palm trees crowded the edges of the lot, their fronds brushing against sagging power lines.
A handful of cars were parked at odd angles beneath metal carports, paint sun-bleached, bumpers nicked and scarred.
The air smelled faintly of hot asphalt and something fried drifting in from somewhere nearby.
Duke scanned the lot as they got out—balconies, stairwells, blind corners—automatically mapping lines of sight and places someone could watch without being seen.
No one lingered. There was no movement he didn’t recognize as normal. Still, he wanted to be cautious.
He and Andi walked side by side toward the building, Andi leading them to the correct unit. Duke slowed as they reached the door, his attention narrowing.
Something was wrong.
He didn’t know how he knew it—only that the feeling hit him all at once, sharp and unmistakable.
When he took a closer look, he realized the door wasn’t fully closed.
It wasn’t wide open. Just . . . not latched.
Just like Gina’s apartment had been. Just like Andi’s hotel room door.
Andi noticed it a split second later and stopped short. “Oh, no. Not again.”
Duke stepped in front of her, one hand lifting slightly as a silent signal to stay back.
This only confirmed his fears that someone evil had followed them to LA.
Duke drew his phone from his pocket and used it to push the door open inch by inch, careful not to disturb anything more than necessary.
Inside, the apartment was silent.
He quickly scanned the place—left, right, ceiling, corners.
Then Duke checked out the apartment thoroughly—bedroom, bathroom, kitchen.
Nothing appeared to be touched.
He stepped back toward the door and motioned for Andi to come inside.
“Anything?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Only an open door.”
“Should we call the police?”
“It can’t hurt.”
She made the call and gave the address, explaining the open door and missed appointment. The dispatcher promised to send someone out.
When Andi ended the call, she observed the space again and frowned. “I know this sounds unlikely, but I think this is all connected.”
Duke turned to her. “What do you mean?”
She met his gaze, something troubled and resolute in her eyes. “What if Kate was taken also? Not at random. What if she was targeted because of me—because of us?”
Duke didn’t dismiss the idea. He didn’t reassure Andi with empty words.
Instead, he chose honesty—because Andi very well could be onto something. “Unfortunately, you might be correct.”