Explosive Attraction - By Lena Diaz Page 0,34

phone off, Darby had frantically called Mindy over and over on the short ride back, while Rafe used his phone to talk to the police.

Two patrol cars, lights flashing, whirled into the lot just as Rafe screeched to a stop.

“Stay inside the car.” Rafe grabbed the timer from the middle console. He dropped it into his shirt pocket, and hopped out of the car to meet with the officers.

Darby hadn’t even looked at the timer. She’d forgotten about it in her desperate bid to reach Mindy on the phone.

How much time did Mindy have?

When Rafe slid back into the driver’s seat, the police cars took off in opposite directions. One of them peeled out, heading north on State Road 312 back toward town. The other headed south, where A1A looped around to Beach Road. Rafe hit the gas, his tires squealing as he turned right onto Anastasia Boulevard.

“How much time does she have?” Darby asked, clutching the armrest when Rafe swerved around a slow-moving car.

“Forget about the timer. Look for Mindy’s Corolla. You look right. I’ll look left.”

He cursed and swerved to avoid another slow car, which pretty much encompassed most of the traffic. The speed limit was barely above walking-speed in this heavy beach-goer, tourist area. Without the benefit of police lights or a siren, Rafe had to be creative about getting around the other cars without running into anyone.

Darby swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. “What if he didn’t take her car? What if she was driving her car and he forced her off the road or something? And then took off with her in another car?”

He didn’t look surprised by her question, which told her he’d already considered that possibility. “The Corolla is our only lead right now. Best case, he didn’t grab her yet and we find her in her car, unharmed.”

Darby’s chin quivered and she fought against the urge to cry. “What’s the worst case?”

His jaw tightened. “Worst case, exactly what you said. He followed her, forced her off the road and took her in another car. A detective back at the station is already working with the managers of the surf shop and the fast-food restaurant next to it to pull surveillance footage. Another officer will head to the scene to interview witnesses, see if anyone saw anything. In the meantime, there’s a BOLO on the Corolla.”

“BOLO?”

“Be on the lookout. Basically, every cop in St. Johns County is on the alert for her car, including the state troopers headquartered off State Road 16. That’s a lot of manpower.” He squeezed her fingers where they lay on top of her thigh. “We’ll find her.”

She nodded, staring out the window, looking down every little street they passed, studying every strip mall. Yes, they’d find her.

But would they find her in time?

The car swerved, throwing her against Rafe. Cars honked as he turned down a small two-lane road.

“That might be her.” He grabbed his cell phone and called the station. He barked at dispatch, telling them his location and that he’d spotted a “possible” on the car in the BOLO.

He zipped past a sign declaring they were entering Anastasia State Park.

Darby squinted and shaded her eyes against the sun, trying to see what he’d seen. But the long line of cars in front of them was slowing for the guard shack, each one waiting their turn to pay the entry fee. “Where’s her car? I don’t see it.”

He honked his horn and swerved back to his side of the road to avoid an oncoming car. “There.” He pointed to the guard shack. A blue Corolla had just paid the toll and accelerated away at a quick rate of speed.

“Are you sure that’s Mindy’s car?” The license plate was too far away for her to read.

“No, but I’ll know in a minute.” He stomped the accelerator and the Charger leaped forward, reminding her that he’d told his brother he wanted a car with muscle. He whipped around the guard shack, sliding on the slick, crushed-shell shoulder of the road before the tires caught and spit the car back onto the asphalt.

The Corolla was fifty yards ahead. It had slowed for another car, but zipped around it and disappeared around a curve in the narrow road.

“That’s her car,” Rafe said. “The numbers on the plate match.” He raced toward the curve then slammed his brakes, narrowly missing the bumper of a camper that pulled out in front of them.

He tried to pass but had to swerve back