A flurry of sound followed as whoever was on the other side reacted to their unexpected arrival.
Chapter Four
“Why are we hiding out here, Bryce?” Travis asked the guy lying on the couch, noticing the faint smell of sweat and mildew hanging in the air. Shit. This place could stand to be aired out. The kid didn’t look much better.
Meredith stepped in behind him in time to see the teenager bolt upright.
“Mrs. Sanders?” he said, blinking at the blinding light from the doorway she’d left open behind her. “What are you—how did you know I was here?”
Before Meredith could interject, Travis took the lead. It was one thing to let Meredith humor the old man up at the house—who had been more interested in staring at her assets than discovering the fate of her daughter—but it was another thing to let her control a key interview in his investigation. “On a hunch, I guessed the sporty yellow SUV parked in the garage next to the Mercedes was yours.”
He leaned over and, with a push of his hand, shut the door. Her shoulders jerked at the unexpected sound and she leveled a glare at him that he ignored as he continued, “I saw movement through the window when your dad tried calling you a moment ago. I’m guessing you’re keeping a low profile?”
Whatever energy Bryce had at their initial appearance seemed to leave him as he visibly deflated, sinking back again onto the couch. “Yeah. You could say that.”
“Well, if you could humor us for a few minutes, we’ll be glad to leave you to your wallowing without giving your old man any idea where you are.” Bryce barely nodded. “We’re looking for Darcy. We understand that the two of you had plans to get together last night.”
“You could say that,” he spit out bitterly. “But apparently Darcy had other ideas.”
Meredith moved to take a step toward him, but Travis placed his hand on her arm and shook his head. She narrowed her eyes again but didn’t say anything.
“It’s important that you tell us everything you know, Bryce. Because it looks like Darcy didn’t come home last night, and she hasn’t been seen since she left a babysitting job yesterday. Did you actually see Darcy last night, yes or no?”
He sat up a little more, blinking his eyes a few times as what Travis said sank in through his haze of self-pity. “Yeah. I saw Darcy. We were supposed to meet up at this thing. But when I got there, she was all over some creep. When I went to go buy her a Coke, they gave me the slip. I haven’t seen her since.”
“Did you know the guy she was hanging out with?” Travis continued.
“Yeah. Think he went to our school a couple of years ago. Not sure if he was kicked out or dropped out, but he left in the middle of the year. Matt something or other.”
Real helpful.
“Anyhow,” Bryce continued, “we’ve seen him at these things before. Usually with a different girl each night. Darcy never gave him a second look before. Made a joke that the guy had likely bred some new kind of VD from all the action he appeared to be getting. So when I saw them together…it was like a sucker punch. I mean, she wanted to wait and all—” His eyes widened when he realized what he’d said, and he glanced nervously over at Meredith. “I just didn’t expect she’d go with a guy like that.”
“And you’re sure she left with him?” Travis asked, his voiced measured and patient. “What about her car? Did you notice if she left in it?”
“It was still parked outside, down the block. Which was why when I saw it, I went back in to see if I’d missed her. I found a couple guys inside I knew, and they mentioned seeing Darcy leave with a guy. Looked pretty wasted to them, too,” he added with disgust.
“Well, the problem we have, Bryce,” he said lazily and leaned forward to rest his arms on the back of a chair, flexing his biceps for additional intimidation, “is that Darcy hasn’t been seen or heard from since. And her mother here”—he looked back in time to catch Meredith staring at his muscles before she could turn away. He suppressed a smile and turned back to Bryce—“has already contacted the police, because she’s worried. I need to know, when you saw Darcy, how was she acting?”
“Plastered. And she kept leaning into the kid, letting him touch her, smiling at him—” His voice broke off.
“Did Darcy usually drink to such excess when she was out with you?”
Bryce looked up at Meredith and then turned his gaze to Travis. “We—we’ve been drunk together before. I’ve had a few parties here in the pool house, but it’s summer and we were just having some fun. It was harmless—we didn’t drive or anything. But when we went to parties, especially these raves, we didn’t like to drink. We usually just had a Coke or something. Wanted to be clearheaded.”
“I’m going to need the address of where the party was. Is this a club?”
“No. There’s this kind of underground thing…we don’t know where the next party will be until we’re sent the text about an hour before. Twenty bucks gets you in and a cup for whatever you’re drinking. This last one was at an abandoned warehouse west of the city.” He grabbed his cell phone from the couch and scanned through it before reading Travis the address.
“Can you give us a description of this Matt kid? What does he look like? What kind of car does he drive?”
“Dark hair. Covered in tats. Kind of rocker looking. Nothing special, but I guess some girls find him appealing,” Bruce said sullenly.
“Are you expecting there to be a party tonight?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Can’t really say.”
“When you get the information, I’m going to need you to give us a call. Here.” He held out a business card to Bryce, who studied it while Travis continued. “Maybe you can point out to us this kid you saw Darcy with. We’d really like to speak with him, see if he can give us any ideas where we can find her.”
Bryce’s leg jiggled nervously as he stared at the floor. “So…you think Darcy—that she’s okay? I mean, I haven’t heard from her, but I didn’t call her, either. I was kind of still upset.”
“That’s what we’re hoping for,” Travis said. He wasn’t about to share his real thoughts. Because Darcy definitely didn’t sound okay. More like drugged. And the purpose wasn’t too hard to guess. “But in the meantime, if you think of anything that might be useful—or when you get that next text—give me a call.”
Travis turned and motioned Meredith toward the door.
She ignored him, however, and stood staring at Bryce for a long minute. Bryce had the grace to look sheepish under her trademark glare, something Travis had seen before and knew its effect. He could imagine those deep brown eyes almost scorching the poor kid with their intensity, her disapproval clear. He had to admit, from this side of the scorch, it was impressive.
Satisfied, finally, she turned and marched past Travis and outside.
Had to hand it to her—she still had it.
Minutes later, they sat in the car, neither speaking at first.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asked. “Do you still want to go talk to Darcy’s best friend?”
“Let’s go check out the address for last night’s party. I’d like to see if Darcy’s car is still there.”
If it wasn’t there, it added to the possibility she’d taken off somewhere. If it was there…then that didn’t bode as well.
The radio was playing the Clash when he pulled away. From the disgruntled looks she threw his way, he took it she wasn’t a fan. “What? You don’t like British punk rock?”
“Does anyone under forty? I mean, it was way before our time.”
“And?”
“I just think you’re trying too hard. Like you want to be all John Cusack from Grosse Pointe Blank or something.”
He didn’t bother to respond. Especially since it was one of his favorite films. Instead he signaled and hung a right to get on the freeway. “So tell me, Meredith, what have you done for the past ten years to keep yourself busy—aside from collecting husbands like you once collected boyfriends.”
She su
cked in her breath. “How the hell do you know anything about my marriages?”
“I like to know everything I can about potential clients.” Plus, once he found out it was Meredith, he’d been too tempted not to see what she’d been up to. Three husbands before she turned thirty? He didn’t know why he’d even been surprised. Poor bastards. “You know”—he scratched his head—“I would have thought with your daddy’s money you wouldn’t have needed to marry to get more.”
She remained silent for a moment, turning her attention to outside the window. When she finally spoke, her voice was void of emotion. “You don’t really think we’re going to play this game of catch-up, do you?”
“As I see it, we have about ten minutes to reach our destination. Have to fill the time somehow. You don’t like my music, so conversation seems to be the next logical action.”
“Okay. Then tell me about yourself, Travis. It seems that Allie thought pretty highly of your intellect in high school. If you were so smart, why didn’t you go into business or computer science? Join the CIA or FBI or something. Hell, maybe become the next Bill Gates. But the military? Seems like a waste of your talents.”
“Well, Mer,” he said, using the same inflection as she’d used for his name, “for those of us without a hefty trust fund, education wasn’t as accessible.”
“Surely there were scholarships.”
“College didn’t interest me. Not back then. I’d wanted to get out and see something of the world. Kick a little ass in the process.” Well, that was what the other men—kids, really—had said when they all left for their first tour in Iraq. Before they saw the guy next to them blown into a hundred pieces—or suffered the same fate themselves. His reasons had been more personal.
“That was”—she looked over at him, and he waited for a snide comment from those perfect lips—“courageous.”
He nearly ran them off the road.
“I’m sorry. What was that?”
She sighed heavily. “I know you heard me.”
“I think so. But if I heard correctly, you just paid me a compliment.”
“I realize you don’t have a very high opinion of me, Travis, and I’ll admit that maybe, to some extent, you have reason for that.” He snorted. Understatement. “But I’m being honest. I haven’t been living under a rock. I know what’s been going on overseas and that going into the service is dangerous. You put your life on the line every day. So…yes. I think that’s courageous.”
He’d been scared shitless when he signed on. Brave was the last thing he’d have called himself. But it was something he’d had to do. And fortunately, his interest in becoming a SEAL candidate, combined with his high ASVAB score had taken his training to a level he could never have imagined before.
“When did you get out?” she asked him.
“Finished my last mission sixteen months ago. An undercover op in Afghanistan.” He’d considered staying on for one more mission, having loved his work, loved the challenge and camaraderie that came from being part of a special ops unit, but he’d recognized that he was becoming increasingly jaded. Angry. And that maybe it was time to use those skills and experience back home. Not that this was information he was going to confide to the homecoming queen. “A friend of mine started a private security firm. Paid good money. Still making a difference, helping people out.” He merged to the right for the next exit. “Your turn. Marrying at nineteen, your first year of college? Isn’t that sort of…provincial?”
She remained silent.
“Then you not only divorce the guy four months later, but marry hubby number two a year later. A single father more than twice your age who, when he kicked the bucket, left you even more disgustingly rich than before. And then there’s husband number three…”
“You don’t know anything about me, Travis.” Her voice was tight, and he glanced over to see her hands clenched on her lap.
“Yeah. You’re probably right.”
His dismissive tone incensed her more. “Don’t think you know me. You have no idea. Yes, my first marriage was a big mistake. And the third one, even bigger. But I really loved Darcy’s father. He was the only person—” She stopped, her shoulders sinking as the fight left her. More softly, she added, “We would have been happy.”
He raised his eyebrows. “He was like, sixty. Could he even get it up?”
“Screw you, Travis.” This time she leaned forward and flipped the radio back on, and turned it up to prevent further conversation.
Okay, he had to admit, he was sinking down to her level. These were all things he’d thought about when he read the file, gloating over her string of bad luck. But rubbing it in didn’t hold as much appeal as he’d have thought.
Even after the pain and embarrassment she’d heaped on him back in high school. Humiliation that had led him to hope that, after ten years, karma had been a bitch to her, taken her down a peg. Turned her into more of a troll doll than a Barbie.
Unfortunately, watching her stroll into that coffee shop like she owned the place, her ass still tight and her legs as impossibly long and toned as ever, he’d felt cheated. It hadn’t helped when he got an up close and personal look at that face and realized that—although it had matured with time, earning her a few more lines around her mouth and a new wariness in those eyes—she was still as stunning as ever.
It hadn’t been fair. He deserved to feel a little better.
And he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to have insane urges about the she-devil. Urges like running his hands through that thick mane of hair to see if it was as soft as it looked. Or nestling his face in its softness to see if it smelled like the warm, musky scent that kept wafting toward him when she flipped her head. Or pushing inside her while she wrapped those exquisite legs around his waist while crying out his name.
Might as well commit him now.
It was close to eight when they reached the address Bryce gave them, the sun just starting to drop below the mountains. There wasn’t much activity on the street—a few Pacific Islanders stood on the corner watching them suspiciously as they passed. A few more guys sat on the corner, the small, torn bags next to them telling him they were likely homeless.
“I’m going to drive around the block first. Tell me if you see Darcy’s car.”
A few minutes later they were back in front of the building.
“It’s not here.” Meredith said. “Maybe she did go on a road trip with some friends,” she added, her tone hopeful, as they got out.
He looked up at a sign near the street. He nodded toward it. It warned no parking between seven and nine a.m. “If her car was still parked here this morning, it would have been towed.” A thought occurred to him. “You didn’t happen to have a security system in her car, like OnStar or something? They could track it if you did.”
“No. Darcy found this old Volkswagen bug. Vintage. It was a wreck when she got it, but she put a lot of her savings into getting it fixed up.” Her lips twisted into a slight smile as she remembered, softening her features. Something she definitely should do more often. Or not—hell, what was he thinking? “I wanted to buy her a new car, but she was pretty insistent. She could be stubborn when she wanted to be.”
He tried the doors to the building, but there was a thick chain holding them closed. The windows wore about eight layers of dirt and grime, offering him a limited view inside. About all he could make out was a dark, open space. He walked around the back, trying all the windows until he found one that gave, then lifted himself up and climbed through.
“You’re not leaving me out here,” Meredith’s high-pitched voice said with alarm. She started to pull herself up to follow him, and he turned to watch her progress.
She was surprisingly strong.
It only took another thirty seconds for her to appear in the opening, her skirt hiked high up on her hips. He probably shouldn’t stare as she tried to catch her breath, but…hell. She had amazing legs. He caught a glimpse of dark, lacy panties before she swung her legs down
and jumped to the floor to join him.
“Impressive.”
“Yoga,” she said, mistaking his intent, and shimmied the skirt back down over her hips. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at my ass. You could have offered a hand, you know.”
“It was way more fun to enjoy the view.”
She slapped the dust from her hands along the side of her skirt. “So why are we in here anyhow? It’s deserted.”
“First, we don’t have any direct confirmation that Darcy left the place, do we? Bryce said she wasn’t around when he got back. For all we know she could be still here. Or she could’ve left something.” A rustling to his left caught his attention, and he put his hand out to tell her to wait.
They stood quietly for a moment in the large, darkened warehouse, waiting for the sound to occur again. Nothing. He headed in the direction where he’d heard the sound, Meredith right behind him, stopping after a step to slip her heels off before continuing barefoot.
Near the back of the building was a room, the door shut. He crept over and pressed his ear to the door, listening. He motioned Meredith to stand behind him and then tested the door. Unlocked.
He pushed the door open and waited to see if someone—or something—rocketed his way. Nothing.
It someone had been here, they’d cleared out pretty fast. In the corner by an open window was a blanket that appeared to have been used for a bed and several empty cans of soup. He went over and bent down. The blanket was still warm.
“Do you think it was Darcy?”
He looked around. “Nah. I’d say the person who set up here is a permanent squatter. But they might know something.”
He stepped over to the dirt-covered window and peered out. Whoever the person was, he or she was bound to return eventually.
They walked through the place again, looking for anything that would be of interest. But other than trash and empty cups confirming a couple hundred kids had partied here recently, just as Bryce had described, they found nothing. No sign of Darcy.
Or her car.
Back outside, they climbed into his car, and he dialed the impound lot, knowing in his gut what they were likely going to report.
Love You Madly Page 4