Mission: Without a Trace - Nicole Edwards Page 0,55
with, “And she hasn’t called Gerard?”
Trina shook her head. “No. I checked his phone before he left, but I didn’t want to worry him. Not yet.”
“Where’s he at now?”
“His office at the capitol,” Dante supplied. “He usually goes in on Sunday mornings. Says it’s quiet then.”
A broken sob came from Trina, drawing Dante to his mother’s side. Katrina Greenwood’s face was pale, eyes wild, her fear prominent, but they all avoided offering her placating words.
“Have you notified APD?” There was no way the police could ignore this. They wouldn’t put it off until she’d been gone for forty-eight hours, which was sometimes the case for missing persons. All rules and regulations went out the window when the governor’s daughter went missing. At this point, they’d likely have every law enforcement agency in Texas on high alert.
“Not yet. I…” Trina swallowed. “I don’t want to look like a panicked mom in the event she simply stayed with a friend. Or maybe left her phone.”
“Does she usually do either?” Reese asked.
“No. Cori prefers her own space, doesn’t stay at other people’s houses. And her phone is her lifeline. If she left it anywhere, it would be completely by accident.”
“Have you received any calls? From anyone else?” Brantley inquired.
Her light blue eyes were solemn as she shook her head. “You mean someone asking for a ransom?”
Yes, that was what he meant, but he knew better than to say the word. Trina was hovering on the fringes of a panic attack and the last thing he needed was for her to get hysterical.
“No. No phone calls. Not yet.”
“Okay. We need a list of her friends,” he told them both. “The ones she was going out with.”
“I don’t know exactly who,” she said, her words rushed. “She didn’t tell me.”
“Then a list of all her friends,” he said calmly.
Trina spun around, snatched a spiral-bound notebook off the counter, passed it over. “Already did that. I knew someone would ask.”
Brantley scanned the names, noticed she had a few phone numbers listed. They would call them all, track down those she didn’t have contact info for.
For simplicity, Brantley snapped a picture of the names, gave her what was meant to be a reassuring hug, then promised he would be in touch as soon as he learned something.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he prompted Dante on his way to the door.
Dante nodded, then followed them outside.
“I’d like to check out her place. See if it’ll give us any insight.”
“Of course.” Dante dug in his pocket, retrieved a key. “I was planning to stop by there, but I didn’t want to leave my mom…”
“She’s understandably upset,” Reese noted. “We’ll see what we can do to get some answers.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Dante’s blue eyes bounced between the two of them. “Keep us in the loop.”
“Of course,” Brantley said, motioning for Reese to lead the way down the steps.
Once back in the truck, Brantley let his phone connect to Bluetooth, then dialed JJ’s number.
“Hey,” she said, her tone rushed. “Please tell me you found her.”
“Not yet, no. I’ve got a list of names. Need you to track them down, find out where they are. Sending it to you now.” He passed the phone to Reese so he could send over the image of the names.
There was a brief pause, followed by, “Got it. Lot of names here.”
“It’s a list of Cori’s friends. I suspect some of them were out with her last night.”
“Gotcha. Give me half an hour. I’ll hit you back when I’ve located them. Where’re you headed?”
“Gonna stop by Cori’s apartment. Call me when you know somethin’.”
“Will do.”
Brantley disconnected the call, let Reese key in the address Dante had sent via text.
Reese still wasn’t saying much and Brantley had to wonder if it was because of their abrupt wakeup call or if it had something to do with last night.
Last night.
Holy fuck.
The memory was still vivid in his mind. He could practically feel the heat of Reese’s body. Had it not been for that wakeup call, he probably would’ve been balls deep inside the man again now. As it was, it was an ache he hoped to quench again in the very near future. Thinking about it damn sure wasn’t going to help though, so he made a mental note not to bring it up. Not even to himself.
Once they reached San Antonio Street, Brantley parked the truck in the garage closest to Corinne’s apartment complex. With Reese in tow, they headed into the building. The lobby