What if you asked her about giving up her legal rights? Making this official…
That’s a horrible idea.
He gripped the wheel, dread pinching his gut. “I screwed up.”
“Wescrewed up.”
“No, you had this one right.” Zoey always had it right. Why did she always have it right? “If I had told her like you suggested, she wouldn’t have misheard.”
“We don’t know for sure that’s what happened.”
“Why else would she leave?”
“There’s something else.” Zoey’s voice was muffled. “Hang on, I’m sending you a photo.”
The dock rapidly approached, and he expertly swung the boat into place. His cell dinged. He looked at the display, opened the text.
A photo in Amelia’s room, of the three of them from the wedding.
Displayed in the broken frame.
His chest tightened. “She must have done that earlier today.”
“And then heard us tonight?”
Of all the timing…
“It’ll be okay.” Zoey’s voice rallied, though weaker than usual. “We’ll find her. It’s Magnolia Bay. She couldn’t have gone far.”
Unless she hitch-hiked to the interstate, up to New Orleans or beyond. But no need to put that fear in Zoey’s mind. “I’ll call Sheriff Rubart.” He grabbed his keys, climbed out of the boat. “How long do you think she’s been gone?”
“An hour, maybe two? But Linc, he won’t do anything until she’s been gone twenty-four hours.”
“Oh, he will. Trust me.” Determination—fueled by raw fear—shot through his veins. Not even Sheriff Rubart would cross him on this. “Meet me at the jail. We can start from there.” Thunder rumbled overhead as he hung up.
Great.
They could really use some sun right about now.
twenty-two
“What do you mean, standard procedure?” Linc leaned so far over the counter at the Magnolia Bay Parish Jail, Zoey thought he might bump noses with Sheriff Rubart. The fluorescent light above buzzed. “My kid ismissing.”
Unperturbed, Sheriff crossed his arms over his protruding belly. A half-full coffee mug sat next to a pad of sticky notes and an overflowing in-box of papers. Obviously, the front desk admin had gone home for the night, and Sheriff Rubart didn’t seem very eager to take her place. “For all you know, the girl went shopping.”
Exactly as Zoey predicted—and feared. She winced.
“That’s ridiculous. She’s thirteen, and it’s Sunday night. Nothing is open to shop at.” Linc stabbed his hands through his hair. Thunder boomed, rattling the glass in the front windows. He pointed to the sky. “Plus there’s that.”
“Exactly my point—she’s a teenager. A troubled teenager. And teenagers get wild whims all the time, including running around in the rain.” Sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Did she happen to get mad at you recently?”
Linc glared. “Yeah.”
“Again, my point.”
“And when she does, she slams her door! Not packs a bag and vanishes into thin air.”
Sheriff raised a bushy gray brow. “I seem to remember her running out of the diner when she got upset at that reception.” He tilted his head toward Zoey. “Congratulations on the nuptials, by the way.”
