Peterson shared a look and did the same. When the door had closed behind the men, Kerri nodded to Sadie and walked out.
“Whatever happens in there,” Peterson warned, “is on you, Devlin.”
Falco backhanded him on the shoulder. “Shut the fuck up, Peterson.”
Sykes swallowed hard, the movement visible along his throat. “He’s right. Shut up, Peterson.”
A minute ticked by. Then another. Kerri felt ready to explode. The sound of sobbing seeped past the front door, and Kerri wasn’t sure she could take it.
The door suddenly opened, and Sadie exited the house. Cora Cortez lingered in the open doorway. Other than being shaken, she looked unharmed.
Relief trickled inside Kerri. “What did she tell you?”
“She thinks they went to the warehouse where her husband works. He called her right before you came and said he was going there next.”
“Let’s go,” Kerri urged.
“What’d you do, Cross?” Sykes demanded as the whole group headed for the street. “Threaten her life. Jesus.”
Cross glared at him. “I just told her that I knew who she and her husband really are and that I would use that information if she didn’t cooperate.”
Sykes watched Sadie round the yellow VW. “Who the hell are they?” he demanded.
Sadie didn’t answer. She climbed into her vehicle and drove away.
Kerri and Falco loaded into his Charger and did the same.
Kerri’s cell vibrated. Dispatch appeared on the screen. “Devlin.”
“Detective Devlin, I’m patching a Junior Ridley through to you. He’s an Uber driver who says he has information about the alert on Tori.”
Kerri’s heart thumped as she thanked the dispatcher and waited for the call to be connected.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Ridley, this is Detective Kerri Devlin.”
Ridley explained that he had picked up two girls. One girl kept referring to the other one as Tori. He described the two girls and how that by the time he reached the drop-off point, he felt as if something wasn’t quite right.
“Where was the drop-off point?”
He gave the address and the time of the drop. Kerri thanked him and ended the call.
“What the woman told Cross was right,” she told Falco. He glanced at her. “An Uber driver dropped Alice and Tori off at the warehouses an hour ago.”
Falco floored the accelerator.
Kerri didn’t have to say the rest.
A lot could happen in an hour.
43
9:50 a.m.
Taylor Warehouses
Birmingport Road
Birmingham
As they reached the end of the long drive, Kerri spotted a dark sedan and the black SUV in the parking lot already.
The Escalade Kerri recognized. It belonged to Cortez.
“Who the hell is that?” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
“Looks like the mayor’s car.”
Kerri scowled. Falco was right. The license plate read: WARREN1. “Why would the mayor be here?” She thought again of the mayor’s personal involvement in this case and the similarities between her early years and those of Alice Cortez. Was she attempting to save this girl Alice or save face?
The idea that there was more nudged at Kerri.
The Charger had scarcely stopped moving, and she was climbing out. She all but ran toward the maintenance building, where a door stood open. Falco caught up with her by the time she reached the entrance.
Kerri drew up short as Mayor Emma Warren emerged, Cortez right behind her.
“Where is Tori?” Kerri demanded.
Warren stalled for a single moment. “Tori? Excuse me, Detective . . . ? Why are you here?”
“That’s a good question,” Falco said, “for you, Mayor.”
She blinked once, twice. “I’m here with Mr. Cortez.”
Cortez stared but kept his mouth shut.
“He believes Alice has run away from home, and since she is the student I’m personally mentoring, I felt compelled to assist him. She’s been very upset since the Myers tragedy.”
Falco glanced around the parking area. “Where’s your driver? Your security?”
Warren’s perfectly polished facade cracked just a little, showed a flash of frustration. “Again, why are you two here?”
Sykes’s car rolled into the lot. Cross followed in the yellow Beetle.
“My daughter, Tori, is missing,” Kerri said. “She was last seen with Alice Cortez. An Uber driver brought them here.”
Cortez said something in Spanish to Warren. She ignored him, but recognition registered in her eyes. She understood.
“Let’s get out of this doorway,” Warren suggested, stepping forward and forcing Kerri and Falco to back away.
Determined to get inside, Kerri walked around the obstacle the two made and entered the maintenance shed.
Warren called out something about a warrant, but Kerri ignored her. She didn’t bother explaining that they had exigent circumstances. Warren was an attorney; she knew this.
Nylon ropes and a wrinkled cloth lay on the floor. Judging by the short strips of nylon rope, someone