Somebody to Hold (Tyler Jamison #2) - April Wilson Page 0,60

bedroom. He’s sure she didn’t run off with her bodyguard. The note’s a red herring, and that means Sean is—”

“Tyler, stay out of this,” Jud warns. “That’s an order.”

I turn to Ian. “I have to ask, is there any chance your sister could have run off with Sean?”

“No!” he cries. “She can’t stand him, Tyler. You heard her say so yourself.”

I nod, feeling guilty for pressing Ian, but the questions I’m asking are standard procedure in a situation like this. “I know. I’m sorry, but I had to ask. Sean’s missing, too. His agency can’t locate him. Because of the note, the police are looking at the possibility that they ran away together.”

Ian has a wild look in his eyes as he begins pacing. “What about her meds? Did she take them?”

“No. Your dad said all of her medications are at the house.”

Ian checks the time. “She should have been home nearly two hours ago. My god, Tyler, what if he hurts her? What if he—” He grabs my arms. “Find her, Tyler. Please, I’m begging you.” His eyes fill with tears. “Find her before something happens—before he hurts her.”

Ian doesn’t know what the consequences would be if I were to investigate Layla’s disappearance—and I’m not about to tell him.

My job versus the life of his sister?

There’s no question. There comes a time in every man’s life when he has to weigh his options and make a choice. I’m making mine.

“I swear to you, Ian, I’ll do everything in my power to find her.” I refrain from adding the qualifier alive. He doesn’t need to hear about crime statistics right now.

Ian’s been through a lot lately, but losing his sister is something he would never recover from.

Chapter 22

Ian Alexander

I follow Tyler as he retrieves his holster and straps it onto his chest. Then he slips on his jacket.

As he grabs extra ammo from the top shelf, I tell him, “I’m coming with you.”

“No. You’re staying here.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m staying home while you’re out there looking for my sister. Either you let me come with you, or I follow you. Either way, I’m coming, and you can’t stop me.”

He studies me for a split second before he says, “Fine. Grab your jacket and let’s go.”

As we head south toward the university, Tyler starts rattling off instructions. “Call your parents and find out as much as you can about Layla’s class schedule. I need to know which classes she was taking, room numbers, professors’ names, any classmates she ever mentioned by name, friends, study partners—anything they can remember.”

“Got it.” I reach for my phone and call my mom.

Her voice breaks when she answers. “Ian?”

I can tell she’s been crying. “Mom, it’s okay. We’ll find her. We need some information, though.” I repeat everything Tyler said.

Tyler reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his little black notebook and a pen, which he hands to me. “Write down everything she can remember, no matter how small. And get Layla’s license plate number.”

While I’m talking to my mom, Tyler makes a call. “Shane, I gotta make this quick. Layla Alexander is missing—yes, Ian’s sister. Ian and I are looking for her. I just wanted to give you a heads-up in case we need help with resources.” He pauses a moment as he listens. And then, in a low voice, he says, “It doesn’t matter, Shane. This is Ian’s sister we’re talking about.” He listens again, then says, “Yes, I know what I’m doing. I’ll keep you posted.”

“What doesn’t matter?” I ask Tyler when he sets down his phone.

He spares me quick glance. “It’s nothing. What did you learn from your mom?”

Referring to my notes, I recite everything she told me. “Her last class of the day would have been philosophy at one o’clock, with a Professor Baker.”

“Then that’s where we start,” Tyler says.

* * *

We arrive twenty minutes later at the University of Chicago and park in a visitor lot. Tyler grabs a map from an information kiosk, and we head across campus.

“Do you think her disappearance has anything to do with the school?” I ask as I follow him to a collection of ivy-covered brick buildings.

Tyler shakes his head. “I doubt it. But since this is where she would have been seen last, this is where we start. We retrace her steps.”

We locate the building where her philosophy course is held and find the classroom on the second floor. It’s after five o’clock now, three hours since her class ended.