can help us find someone,” Tyler says.
“Are you really a cop?” one of the men says. “You never showed us a badge.”
Tyler grins. “Sorry, I left it in my other jacket.” Then he turns to the woman. “I’ll tell you what we want with Chad. His roommate is dead. We thought he’d want to know.”
The woman’s pale blue eyes widen in surprise. “You mean Sean?”
Tyler nods.
“Holy shit,” she says. “How’d he die?”
“He was murdered.”
Tyler walks away without another word, and I follow. I have a new level of respect for my badass boyfriend. He’s ballsy and clever. “If he is here,” I say, “they’ll run to tell Chad about Sean, and then he’ll rush home.”
Tyler nods. “It’s a long shot, but yeah. That’s the hope.” Halfway across the parking lot, he stops dead in his tracks. “Ian, is that Layla’s car?” He points to the next row over.
A bright red Fiat stands out like a sore thumb, sandwiched between a dark-blue Ford pickup truck and an older model silver Buick.
“Shit,” I say as I race toward the car.
I don’t even need to read the license plate number to know it’s hers. There’s a familiar pair of fuzzy pink dice hanging from the rearview mirror. I walk up to the driver’s window and peer inside the car. There’s nothing out of place in the front seat, but her backpack is lying on the backseat, open, the contents spilling out. When I spot her earbuds lying on the seat, my heart slams against my ribs.
Her earbuds.
She’s never without them.
“Tyler—” My voice breaks. “Her earbuds.”
As I reach for the door handle, Tyler stops me. “Don’t touch anything,” he says. “We don’t want to leave any prints.”
After pulling on a fresh pair of gloves, Tyler opens the car door, which is unlocked, and searches the car thoroughly—the glove box, under the front seats, above the visors. Then he moves to the backseat, checking every nook and cranny. He finds nothing out of the ordinary, except for her backpack.
“Her wallet is here,” he says as he searches the contents of her backpack. “Along with cash and a credit card. She wasn’t robbed.” He hands me her wallet.
“Maybe he’s holding her for a bigger sum,” I say, thinking the obvious.
“You mean ransom?”
I nod. “We’ve always known it was a possibility. It’s why we’ve always had bodyguards. Layla’s has access to a small fortune.”
Before Tyler can close the car door, I reach in and grab her earbuds. “These are coming with me. When we find her, she’ll need them.”
Chapter 23
Ian Alexander
I want to scream. My sister is out there somewhere, and god knows what’s happening to her. She must be terrified. And my god, what if someone has hurt her—I can’t even contemplate the possibility.
We don’t know where she is, or who has her. Or what they’re doing to her. I try not to think about the possibilities, but it’s hard not to.
My legs are shaking uncontrollably, my hands clenched on my lap. Tyler keeps glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, which tells me he’s not just worried about Layla; he’s also worried about me. He reaches over and clasps my hands.
As I stare out the front passenger window of Tyler’s car, I listen to Tyler’s phone conversation with my dad. They’re on speaker.
He tells my dad about finding Sean’s body, about Chad, and the fact that we found Layla’s car at Chad’s workplace. “Since Sean is dead, and Layla’s car is here, we have to assume Chad either has her or knows who does.”
In hindsight, I blame myself. Layla complained time and time again about Sean. She told me she didn’t like him, how uncomfortable he made her feel. I chalked her concerns up to the fact that she’s an independent young twenty-something who doesn’t like being told what to do. But now I realize it was more than that. Her instincts were telling her something, and I didn’t listen.
None of us did.
And now she’s paying the price.
Tyler ends the call with my dad and pockets his phone. “Let’s go,” he says as he starts the engine.
Before he can back out of the parking spot, there’s a knock on the driver’s window. It’s the woman we spoke to earlier. She looks… conflicted.
Tyler lowers his window. “Yes?”
“What do you really want with Chad?” the woman asks. “I’m Loretta, by the way.”
Tyler glances at me, then back at the woman. “Loretta, a young woman is missing.” He nods to me. “His sister. We’re trying