TWENTY-EIGHT
Andi and Dukehad barely made it out the glass doors of Morrison, Blake, and Associates when someone behind them called out. “Ms. Slade! Mr. McAllister!”
They turned.
A woman emerged from the front doors and ran toward them.
She was in her late twenties, maybe early thirties. She wore sensible flats, and an ID badge was clipped to her belt.
The woman’s eyes darted toward the revolving doors behind Andi and Duke, then back again. “I—I’m sorry for catching you out here. But I don’t want my boss to know I talked to you.”
“Why is that?” Andi asked.
The woman glanced around again and stepped to the side, away from any prying eyes inside the office. “They’re very private here and worried about bad publicity. It doesn’t make them bad people—just cautious, I guess.”
“I guess that make sense,” Andi murmured as she and Duke stepped to the side also.
“I’m really worried about Gina,” the woman continued.
Duke shifted subtly, angling his body so he blocked any remaining view from inside the building.
“What’s your name?” Andi asked.
“Lauren. I’m a paralegal. Gina and I worked late together sometimes.” She swallowed hard, unease rippling through her gaze. “This isn’t like her. I know everyone says that, but she’s the type who triple-checks calendar invites. She texts if she’s going to be five minutes late.”
Clearly, Lauren didn’t know about that time Gina disappeared. Andi didn’t bring it up.
Duke shifted and crossed his arms. “Do you have a theory?”
Lauren glanced around again. “The parking garage.”
Andi’s pulse jumped. “What about it?”
Lauren hesitated, then reached into her tote bag and pulled out her phone. Her hands shook slightly as she unlocked it. “I shouldn’t have this. But after Gina didn’t show up Wednesday, I asked security if they’d seen anything. They wouldn’t tell me, obviously. But I know one of the guards—he asked me out a couple of times. He was feeling generous, so he got the footage for me.”
She angled the screen toward them.
The video was dark and grainy—timestamped Tuesday night, just after nine. The camera angle was high, overlooking rows of parked cars and concrete columns.
Andi leaned closer, holding her breath.
“That’s Gina.” Lauren pointed at the screen. “And that’s her car.”
A sedan sat near one of the support pillars. Gina appeared moments later, walking quickly, phone in hand.
Even through the poor resolution, Andi saw the tension in her posture.
She watched as Gina dropped her keys, grabbed them, then scrambled into her car as if spooked.
When there was no movement for a moment, Andi scanned the rest of the footage.
That was when she spotted an old, white van parked in the corner.
An old, white van . . . Colin had mentioned seeing that van in the parking garage and near Gina’s car.
Lauren pointed to it. “It has out-of-state plates. I can’t make out the letters and numbers—not on my phone. But maybe someone with more technology can.”
A moment later, Gina’s door opened. She darted from her car in a frantic run toward the stairwell.
