I look at my phone. Still nothing from Rand.
Chapter 44
“Hey, Papa. Can I borrow your shotgun?"
-Carolina
I’m tired. I’m hungry. And those vodkas I drank at Bellissimo aren’t helping the headache from all the chaos at the Flamingo Cove Police Department. I want to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then crawl into bed.
I swore Wysdom Ward to secrecy when I texted her for help. I could have called 911, but that would have taken longer than texting Wys. I know she’ll tell Luke what was going on, but she gave me 24 hours to tell the rest of my family before she rats me out.
That means I can get some sleep before facing Mama and Papa.
Taking great pains not to wake anyone up, I sneak into their house and tiptoe down the hall to the guest room. I don’t even turn on the light as I kick off my shoes and flop down on the bed.
“What the hell!” A startled scream breaks out underneath me.
I roll to the floor and scrabble for the light on the nightstand, flicking it on. Faylor Kestrel is sitting up in bed, her mouth hanging open.
“What are you doing here?” We both ask each other.
“Amorcita, we heard you scream! Are you okay? Is it a nightmare? An intruder?” Mama is the first one in the door. “Carolina! What are you doing here?”
Papa is on Mama’s heels with his shotgun at the ready. “Mija, we weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
I frown at everyone. “What do you mean, tomorrow?”
“Rand said he was whisking you away this evening, and he’d pick me up after school tomorrow,” Faylor points at the clock. “Or rather, this afternoon."
Sick dread churns in my gut. “When was the last time you talked to him?”
She pulls her phone off the nightstand and opens her texts. “Around ten o’clock Sunday morning.”
“And none of you have seen him,” I glance between my parents. They shake their heads.
I walk out of the guest room and into the living area. I pace around the sofa and recliners. I pause to look at my phone. It’s two in the morning. No one has talked to or seen Rand Kestrel in 16-hours.
This was bad. Very, very bad.
I dial my pocket-sized hacker friend.
“This better be good, Freakishly-Tall Saber Sister,” Tatiana growls into the phone.
“Freakishly tall?”
“I stand by it,” Tatiana scoffs. “Why are you calling me in the middle of the night? Lou had Sunday night off, and we got to bed at a reasonable hour.”
“It’s Rand,” I clutch my stomach, willing it to calm down. “He’s missing.”
Rustling sounds from the other end of the phone get louder as I assume Tatiana gets out of bed. I hear her panting. “I’m headed toward my office. Give me a second.”
She puts the phone down. Keys click and clack.
I bite my lip and try my breathing exercises. They’re not working.
“Son of a biscuit!” Tatiana swears. “I’m getting nothing from his phone.”
“But you can turn on that special thing you do, right? That special tracker thingy that you put on our phones,” I suggest.
