Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The sound of sirens met his ears, and he glanced out the window as at least two police cruisers flew past on the main road, their red and blue lights piercing the dark sky.
His heart kicked up in his chest, and a mixture of hope and fear swirled in his stomach.
Had they found Irina? Sitting there, just waiting for something to happen, went against every fiber of his being.
He needed to be out there. He needed to find his girl and bring her home safe.
He didn't bother to lock the door behind him as he burst out of the house and jogged down the sidewalk, following the red and blue lights up ahead. His phone rang, and he dug it from his back pocket as he slowed to a walk.
Knox’s name filled the screen, and he tapped his phone to connect the call. “Yeah?”
Knox didn't bother to beat around the bush. “We have a problem, Ink.”
“What did you find? Is Aster okay?”
A heavy sigh filled the phone. “We haven't been able to locate her. Her home is dark, and her car appears to be missing.”
“Have the police put out a BOLO?” His heart clenched, and he picked up his pace, still following the police cruisers.
The lights seemed to be stationary now, maybe half a mile ahead.
He wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing; all he knew was he couldn’t sit in that silent, empty house any longer wondering where Irina was and if she was okay.
“Not much they can do at this point,” Knox replied. “They spoke with Louis, who said he was last in contact with her yesterday morning. If she doesn't respond within another 24 hours, we can review our options. But until then…”
“That's absurd!” he exploded. “Aster’s missing and my wife was kidnapped. By tomorrow it could be too late.”
Silence fell before Knox spoke. “This is more than a job to you, isn't it?”
“She was never a job,” he choked out. “Knox… I've gotta find her.”
“We will.” Knox's voice was firm and so much more optimistic than he was at the moment. “We’ll do everything we can,” he reiterated.
“That’s why I called you. Aiden pulled up Irina’s phone and was going through some of her recent messages and phone log.
There was a call made from Irina’s phone to Aster’s four days ago, and the call lasted just under six minutes. ”
He let out another curse. Had someone managed to intercept the call?
Or maybe Irina had slipped and mentioned to Aster where she was.
He seriously doubted that was the case, but Aster was her closest friend.
He could see how she might confide in her, especially as tumultuous as their relationship was at that point.
It was more imperative than ever that they find Aster. “What do we do now?”
“Since the PD’s hands are tied, we’ll have to keep trying her. Irina takes precedence at the moment, so I’m not pulling him off that.”
“No, no, of course not,” he agreed.
He paused for a beat. “Ink, I need you to listen when I tell you this.”
His feet halted of their own accord, feeling as if they’d turned to cement in his shoes. “What?”
“There was a ping off one of the towers down there just a few minutes ago.”
His heart slammed against his ribcage as his gaze darted toward the red and blue lights up ahead. “Where?”
“Northern part of the island. We contacted Rutland, and his guys are tracing it now.”
His heart rate doubled as he watched the lights strobe against the sky. Had they found her?
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Knox said softly. “Even if they find the phone…”
There was a good chance they wouldn’t find her with it. Or if they did… Helplessness rose up, thickening in his throat, threatening to choke him. He had to be strong for her; he had to believe that they would find her.
“I know.”
“I’ll keep you posted,” Knox said.
He disconnected the call and forced himself to think as he stowed his phone in his back pocket.
Most everyone knew that, given the right resources, any phone could be traced as long as it was active.
If Irina’s abductor had found her phone, he almost certainly would have disposed of it.
Likely—but not a certainty. He needed to know exactly what Rutland’s men had found.
Shoving away his macabre thoughts, he allowed anger to well up in their place, hot and fierce. He embraced it as he kicked into a run again, and his muscles burned as he pushed himself harder and faster in the direction of the red and blue lights.
The sound of an engine on the main road caught his attention, and he watched a third set of lights whiz past. He cut across to the main drag, and two police cruisers came into view parked outside a small beach plaza housing a series of small, touristy shops.
He slowed to a walk a block away, drawing in lungfuls of the humid evening air.
Rutland glanced his way and did a double take when he recognized him. “What are you doing?”
“I know you’re looking for her phone,” he confessed. “I just… I have to know.”
Rutland's gaze was hard as he stared at him, and he could see the sympathy and understanding in the dark depths. “You know I can't tell you anything,” he said.
“I know, I know.” He raked his hands through his hair, hissing in a breath as his fingers tugged at his forgotten wound. “I just… I don't know what to do.”
Rutland took a step closer. “We’re working on getting a search party organized right now. Maybe you can head down to the station and help them out. We’ll need any information you can provide. Photographs, the clothing she was last seen wearing, anything that might help us find her.”
He knew Rutland was just doing his job, but he’d already told him everything he knew. “Is there anything I can do?”
Rutland threw a quick look at his patrolmen, then propped his hands on his hips and regarded him for a moment.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a fire engine, lights flashing and sirens blaring, raced past them.
A chill crept down his spine as the huge truck slowed about half a mile up and turned right, heading toward the beach.
He met Rutland’s gaze. “What’s going on? ”
He opened his mouth to speak, probably to try to dissuade him again, but he cut him off. “Please, Chief.”
He blew a harsh breath through his nose. “We got a call from a neighbor a couple minutes ago saying she thought she heard a woman call for help.” He took one look at his face, and his brows lowered. “But I can't be sure, because the caller also said she thought the woman yelled about a fire.”
“That's her!” he practically yelled. That was exactly what he had told Irina to do in case of an emergency.
“Listen—”
“Trust me on this,” he insisted. “It’s her. We’ve got to find her.”
Rutland looked torn, but he finally nodded reluctantly. “I’ll see if I can get a few more officers over there to question the residents.” He threw him a dark look. “Don’t make me regret telling you—and don’t do anything stupid.”
He shook his head. “I would never do anything to jeopardize her safety. I just want her back.”
Didn’t mean he was just going to sit around and wait, though.
He turned and headed back in the direction of the bungalow he and Irina had been staying in.
Once he was far enough away and Rutland’s attention had been diverted, he bled into the shadows and looped around, heading toward the beach.
He followed the flashing red and blue lights and watched as several patrolmen moved from house to house, knocking on doors.
He crossed a side street in front of what appeared to be a small condo complex. Two sets of windows were dark; the third unit glowed brightly, as if someone had left every light on inside. Suddenly, the door swung open and two patrolmen stepped out.
He started to walk past, but the Kentucky license plate caught his eye.
It wasn't out of the ordinary for rental cars to have plates from out of state, but still…
His gaze lifted to the make and model of the car, then darted toward the complex.
In the open doorway of the condo, a woman stood backlit from the lamp in the living room behind her.
Prickles ran over his skin, and he took several steps closer.
“Thank you for your time, ma’am,” the officer said.
“Oh, it's no problem at all. Wish I could help.” The Southern drawl was soft and familiar—very familiar.
His eyes snapped to the woman's face. “Aster?”
Her eyes grew wide as they met his, and she quickly closed the door behind her as she disappeared inside. The two officers lunged at him as he raced forward. “Stop right there!”
He lifted his hands in a defenseless gesture. “That’s her! That's my wife’s assistant!”
“Sir, I'm going to need you to come with us.”
“Call Rutland,” he demanded. “I’m Irina Sterling’s husband. That woman in the room”—he tipped his chin toward the condo they had just exited—“that's Aster Colson. She works for my wife. The police back in Miami said she's missing, but she's here. She knows something! I know she does.”
The two officers exchanged a quick look, and one finally lowered his hand to his radio. “Chief, we’ve got something you’ll want to hear.”