CHASE

 

With every mile down the interstate, the closer we reach the garage on Stetson, the faster my heart races. I can’t imagine how furiously Summer’s heart must be pounding against her chest if I’m feeling like this. I think it’s made all the worse because she is beside me.

In retrospect, I probably should have been more forceful in making sure she stayed behind, but there was something about her charm that managed to sink its claws into me. There’s something about this woman that just makes me throw caution to the wind.

I’m not prepared for what comes next. If this garage just ends up being another dead end like Marcus claimed, then I don’t know how she’s going to react. God knows what will happen if the worst case scenario comes to pass and her sister is found dead in the garage. I’ve been around enough pain, sorrow, and death to last me a lifetime, but at the same time, I’ve become accustomed to it and that’s a terrifying thought to entertain.

I don’t ever want that for anybody else, certainly not someone like Summer.

Though the traffic is easing up from the evening rush, there’s still enough cars on the road to cause a jam right ahead of our exit. To pass the time, I turn down the radio and take a heavy sigh. “What kind of music do you like?”

She shrugs, not committing to answering my question. My guess is that her mind is anywhere else right now, but that’s also the point. I want to make her forget about what’s going on, even if it’s only for a few minutes at a time.

“Come on, you have to like music,” I press for an answer, and nod with pursed lips when it seems like I’m not going to get one. “I like classic rock.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Me too, huh?” I cock a brow and pass her a mischievous grin. “You’re definitely a history teacher, because no English teacher would ever be caught dead saying that, am I right or am I right?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs and sinks further into her seat as she turns her head to look back at the passing city through the car window. “How much longer?”

I push my tongue against my cheek and check my watch. “The garage is basically right off this exit so it shouldn’t be too long.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her angle her eyes at me. “I didn’t know anyone still wore watches nowadays.”

“This?” I shake the white gold watch on my wrist and smile. “That’s because everyone has a clock on their smartphones and their eyes are glued to said smartphones.”

“Then why do you have a watch?”

“It’s just a part of the uniform, you know?” I turn to her, figuring it’s safe to do so since we’re stuck at a light at the base of the off ramp. “Sometimes, I just need to know the time and digging my phone out of my pocket either takes too long or it’s not possible.”

“I see.” She nods, wets her lips. “It’s a nice watch.”

“Yeah,” I muse out loud and swallow the memories of the woman who gave it to me. It was my mother’s, or rather it belonged to the grandfather I never knew. “It was a gift to me by someone who meant the world to me.”

“Meant?” Her eyes widen, catching onto the past-tense use of the word. “I’m sorry,” she says in almost a whisper and turns her head back around to look out the window.

My eyes pass over her once more before they’re back on the road ahead. The red light turns green and the row of cars begin making their way through the light, but just as the car in front of me passes through, it turns red.

I’m not waiting at this damn light for another minute. Not even caring to look both ways, I slam one foot against the gas and take a sharp left through the light, cutting onto Stetson Avenue as a car slams their brakes behind me and lays their fist on the horn.

When I glance back over to Summer, she has one hand thrown against her chest trying to tame her racing heart. Given the circumstances, I probably should have at least warned her that we were about to recklessly speed through a red light.

“Sorry about that,” I say with a light grimace. “But we’re here now.”

She stares blankly at the garage, her eyes hollow and hunted as I turn on the blinker, wait for a passing car, and then take a left turn into the building. The ticket-machine is out of order, so I don’t stop as I make my way up the steep ramp and onto the first floor of the garage.

It’s dark, so I’m forced to turn on the headlights. For being a garage in the middle of the city, it’s not very busy at all. There are more empty spaces than there are filled spaces by at least a factor of two.

Keeping my eyes peeled for the suspects’ SUV, I drive slowly around the garage. Once we’ve circled around the first floor, we begin ascending to the second of seven floors.

With one hand braced on the door handle—as if she’s prepared to jump out at a moment’s notice—Summer leans against the dash with eyes flickering to look at every car, at every passing shadow.

My heart shatters just a little bit watching her and my mind goes back to the worst-case scenario. I’m not a praying man but I find myself pleading with God to not let this situation take a horrific left turn into darkness.

We clear the second and third floors in silence, and Summer is on the edge of her seat now. With each passing car that doesn’t fit the description, it’s like she loses more and more hope, sinking further into the passenger seat until…

“There!” she screams, pointing to a black SUV parked in the far corner of the fourth floor.

Before I can even brake completely, she throws open the passenger door and jumps out.

“Wait!” I instruct her, but I understand that right now my words mean nothing. There’s not a thing in the world that’s going to stop her from doing the same thing she had done on the highway earlier. I don’t kill the engine—I don’t have time.

My feet slam against the cement as I give chase to her. I sweep one hand outwards to grab her by the stomach and pull her backwards before she can reach the car. She flails in my arms, screaming and crying, pleading for me to let her go, but I can’t do that. Not until I’ve cleared the scene.

I hold her tight in my arms for a little longer, waiting for her to quit wailing enough so that I can trust that she’ll listen to me. When the storm seems to pass and her cries are merely a light whimper, her body limp and tired, I release her from my grasp.

She collapses onto the hard ground, her eyes hollow and empty. Her throat tenses and her lip quivers.

I drop to the ground in front of her and lift her at the chin. “I’m going to check things out. Promise that you’ll stay right here.”

She doesn’t respond with words, only with a gentle nod of her head, dark curls sweeping across the side of her face. I nod back before rising back to my feet to approach the vehicle cautiously.

The windows are tinted far beyond the legal limit and it’s impossible to get much of a look inside from the side or back. I circle around to the far wall and get a glimpse inside through the front windshield.

There’s nobody inside, at least nobody that can be seen. I reach for the front passenger door and give it a wiggle before popping it open. I’m hit with a strong cigarette odor—gross. Keeping the front door open, I take a step back and pop open the rear passenger door to peek inside and sigh out of a combination of relief and annoyance.

Relief because the kidnappers didn’t just kill the poor woman and leave her body in a city garage. And I’m annoyed because I’m back at square one with no leads. I turn back to Summer and shake my head. “She’s not here.”

She nods, taking in the news as she rises to her feet. She pats her hands over the denim covering her thighs and steps to me. I watch her with careful eyes as she cranes her head inside the SUV to see for herself.

“So now what do we do?” she questions lowly, taking a step back while pinching at the bridge of her nose. “Are we sure this is the same car?”

“The license plate matches.” I retrieve my phone from my pocket and call up Marcus on his private cell. It only needs to ring once before he’s answering. “We found the vehicle but there’s nobody inside.”

“I didn’t figure they’d still be around.”

“Were you able to find anything else?”

“Unfortunately no.”

“Marcus,” I plead, “Please tell me you at least have something?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I’m good at what I do, but I don’t have access to the same tools as the FBI. I froze the camera feed trying to get a good look at the driver, but I really couldn’t make out much because the windows were so tinted.”

“What about the cars that left after the time they pulled into the garage?”

“There were over two hundred cars that left the garage in the hour immediately afterwards. At first, I thought I could narrow it down to try and pinpoint which car they would have left in, but I couldn’t. The only way to know which of these cars the suspects drove off in would be to follow each and every one of them on city traffic cams and that’s just not feasible.”

“All right,” I sigh, but not too deeply. With Summer standing right beside me, I don’t want to give her the impression that we’re at a complete loss, which might be true but she doesn’t need to know that. “Let me know if you find anything.”

“Yeah, I’ll look into other avenues.”

I hang up the phone and force it back into my pocket before turning back to Summer. She’s wearing a cold, blank expression with eyes that zone out into the dark shadows of the garage in the near distance.

“We’re going to find her,” I promise and reach for her, but she breaks away from me. “I’m going to find her.”

“How can you know that?” She shoots me down with an icy glare, crosses her arms over each other and huffs. “Do you think they’re watching us?”

I shrug, because I don’t know the answer.

“If they’re not career criminals, if they’re not watching me, then how would they know if I called the police?”

“Do you want to take that chance?” I take a measured step towards her and place a palm on each of her arms. “I know you didn’t ask for this, but these are the cards that have been dealt. I want to help you in any way I can, but you’re ultimately the one that’s going to be calling the shots.”

She rolls her eyes and recoils, breaking away from me once more. She drags the back of her palm over her forehead as she twists away from me. “I don’t want to call the shots.” She spins back to me with a frown. “I just want this to be over.”

I was there when this began and because of that, it’s like I’m more connected to the case than I should be. It’s like it’s more personal to me than when a client comes to us begging for us to help. She didn’t ask for this and that makes me want to help her all the more, but at the end of the day, maybe she’s right. Maybe it’d be better for everyone if she went to the police.

I scratch nervously at my cheek. “If you want to go to the police, I’m obviously not going to stop you.”

“I don’t know what to do,” she groans, fear and uncertainty pulsing through her veins and coursing off the edge of her tongue. “It’s been hours already and I… I.” She cradles her head in her palm, and I’m speechless.

I’m never speechless. More and more, I’m regretting getting involved in this because I’m not sure if I can be objective. I’m not sure if I’m capable of deciding what’s the best course of action.

I look away from her and look back to the SUV. Though we may not have found Taylor, there could still be valuable clues inside the vehicle. Just then, Summer’s phone begins to ring.

We lock eyes with each other, her brown eyes turning a cold shade of ice. She swallows nervously, frozen in place.

“Answer it,” I say and take a measured step towards her, but she’s still standing still, staring at me like I alone hold all the answers in the world. I reach into her tight back pocket and retrieve the phone, push it into her stone cold hand. “Put it on speaker.”

But she just looks at me, dazed and confused, lost in her own thoughts, in her own fears.