Rupe frowned at the clock and then glanced down at the text Jayne had sent earlier in the day. Almost ten hours had passed, and still no word from her. Surely she couldn’t still be at work? He called up the opening hours of the courthouse. Nine to five. That meant it had been closed for four hours.

He dialled Jayne’s number, but it rang out without connecting. He stabbed out a quick text to her, grabbed his jacket and keys, and headed over to her apartment.

Rupe abandoned his car in a no-parking zone and ran inside the building. He called Jayne again on the way upstairs, but there was still no answer. Something felt wrong. He didn’t know what, but in the time he’d known her, Jayne was never without her phone, and even if she couldn’t answer, she’d always sent a short text.

As he reached the door to her apartment, he banged hard.

“Jayne, are you in there? Open up.”

Silence.

He banged again, and when there was still no answer, he called her. A faint ringing tone sounded from inside the apartment, and Rupe’s heart shot into overdrive. If her phone was inside, where the fuck was she? What if she’d hurt herself and was lying unconscious inside?

When his furious knocking went unanswered, Rupe tore off downstairs to the building superintendent’s office. He pushed open the door. The super was watching a boxing match on the TV and glanced over his shoulder with an irritated expression at the interruption.

“Heard of knocking, buddy?” he said.

“I need you to open up Jayne Seymour’s apartment. Number 1146.”

“Sorry, pal,” the guy said, leaning back in his chair, his hands laced over his enormous stomach. “No can do. Building rules.”

Rupe slammed his palms on the messy desk and leaned forward. His eyes fell on the nametag pinned to the guy’s shirt. “I couldn’t give a shit about the rules, Dwayne. She’s not answering the door, and yet I can hear her phone ringing inside.”

Dwayne pushed back his chair to put a bit of distance between himself and an increasingly angry Rupe. “Well, maybe she don’t want to be disturbed.” He grinned then. “You kids have a fight?”

Rupe’s arm shot out, and he fisted Dwayne’s shirt. Despite the weight difference, Rupe effortlessly yanked him out of his chair.

Dwayne’s eyes bulged. “Hey, that’s assault.”

Rupe got right up in his face. “I don’t give a flying fuck. Now, either you open Jayne Seymour’s door with a key, or I am going to put your head through it. Your choice.”

Dwayne’s hands shot in the air. “Okay, buddy. Take it easy.”

Rupe let go. Dwayne stumbled a little before regaining his balance. He opened a cupboard fixed to the wall. Inside were row upon row of keys. “Apartment 1146, you said?”

“Yes.”

Dwayne’s chubby finger trailed across the individual keys, making Rupe’s impatience levels soar. Eventually, the building superintendent found what he was looking for and unhooked it.

They took the lift up to Jayne’s floor because there was no way Dwayne would make eleven flights of stairs without having an asthma attack or collapsing from exhaustion. As Dwayne fumbled with getting the key in the lock, Rupe dialled Jayne once more. The ringing tone got louder as the door opened. Rupe shoved past Dwayne into the apartment.

“Jayne,” he called out as he crossed the open-plan living space and opened her bedroom door. The bed was made, her dressing gown in a heap on the floor. Rupe went into the bathroom. Damp towels. So she’d taken a very recent shower, but there was absolutely no sign of her.

He walked back into the living room and picked up her phone, cursing when he realised it was password protected. He downloaded a software programme he’d written to his own phone and ran the script. Within a minute, he’d unlocked the security on Jayne’s phone and broken the law at the same time. Too bad. He’d apologise later.

He went into her recent calls list. She’d made several during the day. A couple to her partner, one to her PA, and a few with names he didn’t recognise, which he guessed were clients. And two to him about an hour ago—that he hadn’t received.

With a growing sense of unease, he glanced over at Dwayne, who was hovering by the door.

“You can go,” Rupe said dismissively.

“I can’t leave you in here, buddy. I’ll lose my job.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Rupe muttered. Still, it didn’t matter any more. Jayne wasn’t there, but at least he had her phone. “Fine. I’m leaving.”

He stepped into the hallway and waited around long enough to make sure Dwayne locked up, then he tore downstairs. He’d lucked out, because his car hadn’t been towed or even ticketed. He drove to a legal spot and pulled up the list of numbers Jayne had called.

He contacted every one. None of them had seen Jayne. He’d tried not to worry Darren, but he could hear the concerned tone in Jayne’s partner’s voice.

Next, he opened her text programme—and his heart nearly stopped when he saw the text she’d received under his name. With escalating alarm, he went back to Jayne’s contacts and found the number he needed.

* * *

By the time he arrived at the home of Detective Chief Superintendent Mike Wilson, Rupe was in full-on panic mode. Mike opened the door with a baby slung over his shoulder, his large hand rubbing in circles over the screaming kid’s back.

“Sorry, my wife is at her sister’s, so it’s my turn to babysit,” he said with a roll of his eyes as he ushered Rupe inside.

“I’m really sorry to bother you,” Rupe said as Mike finished winding the baby and put her down in her cot, where she quit crying and decided to gurgle instead.

“It’s not a bother. You were a bit garbled on the phone. Clue me in.”

Rupe took a breath. “I can’t find Jayne. She’s not at home, no one at work has seen her since she left for court this afternoon, and yet there were signs that she’d been at her apartment very recently, not to mention that she’d left her phone behind.”

Mike frowned as he rubbed his mouth. “That’s strange. No sign of a struggle?”

Rupe shook his head. “The weirdest thing is this.” He pulled up the text and passed the phone to Mike. “I didn’t send that.”

Mike tilted his head to one side. “But it’s come up as you. Now, I’m no technological genius, but doesn’t that mean the number it was sent from coincides with the number against the contact in Jayne’s phone?”

“Ordinarily, yes, but it’s not impossible to fake.”

Mike ran a hand over the top of his head. “Okay, I’ll call it in. Normally, I’d wait at least until tomorrow, but as this is so out of character for Jayne, I’ll get the guys on it now.”

“Thank you,” Rupe said.

Within half an hour, a couple of detectives arrived at Mike’s house, and the four of them sat around Mike’s dining room table as Rupe shared what little he knew. He kept having to wipe clammy hands on his pants as his panic and worry increased with every second that Jayne was missing.

“Who would take her?” Rupe asked when the detectives put their notebooks away.

“We don’t know that anyone’s taken her,” Mike said. “Let’s not jump to conclusions until we know more.”

“Of course someone’s taken her,” Rupe said, his voice escalating along with his fear.

And then an idea hit him. “What if it’s Fisher?”

Mike’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll accept that Fisher is in a lot of trouble. He’s a desperate man, but desperate enough to turn to kidnap? I’m not sure.” He patted Rupe on the shoulder. “I know it’s difficult, but try not to worry. I’m sure Jayne going missing is something completely innocent.”

Rupe briefly closed his eyes and prayed Mike was right.