He found the phone near his jeans, looked at the screen, and muttered, “Harlan.” Then, “I’m putting it on speaker.”
Brenna sat up, dragging the sheet with her as the call connected.
“You decent and up?” Harlan’s voice filled the room.
“Not even close,” Colt said.
“Yeah, well, you’re going to want to get that way. Sheriff Chase just called. Gary’s missing.”
That got Brenna’s attention, and she eased to the edge of the bed, closer to the phone.
Harlan’s voice came steady but grim through the speaker. “Gary’s neighbor called it in. She stepped outside this morning to grab the newspaper and saw his front door wide open. Bloodon the porch. She called the local PD. They went in and found signs of a struggle. But no Gary.”
Brenna felt her nerves already tightening. Colt shot her a look, then asked Harlan, “You think Gary staged it?”
“Could be,” Harlan said. “But if he did, why? Is he planning to go off the radar so he can keep killing? Keep feeding whatever twisted thing he’s got going on inside him?”
Neither Brenna nor Colt had an answer for that. The theory was wild, but not impossible.
“Where are Wallace and Naomi?” Brenna asked. “Could one of them have taken Gary?”
“That’s what Noah and I are working on now,” Harlan said. “You’re welcome to come to HQ and jump in.” He paused, then added with a note of dry humor, “Unless you’ve got something more interesting going on.”
Brenna met Colt’s eyes. “We’re on our way.”
Colt ended the call and gave her a quick kiss. Naked body to naked body. The sigh he let out held regret and promise.
“To be continued later,” he said.
Brenna managed a smile, then slipped off the bed and headed to the guest bathroom while Colt went to his. She moved quickly, washing off the last remnants of sleep and need. Her mind was already shifting gears. Gary was missing. Possibly dead. Possibly faking.
By the time she stepped into the living room, dressed in jeans and a dark tee, Colt was waiting with two to-go cups of coffee. He handed her one without a word. The caffeine hit her tongue and gave her the small jolt she needed.
They grabbed their gear and headed out, both silent, both already mentally back in the game.
Colt drove them to headquarters, the silence between them not tense but focused. When they stepped inside, the sharp scentof coffee and steel met them. Cal Granger stood just past the entry, his brow furrowed.
“You two seen Beck?” he asked. “He was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago. He’s not answering his comms.”
Brenna exchanged a quick glance with Colt. “We haven’t seen him,” she said.
Cal nodded, pulled out his phone, tried again. She heard the call go straight to voicemail.
A knot twisted low in Brenna’s gut. Gary was unaccounted for. And now Beck wasn’t where he was supposed to be either.
She didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
Cal’s frown deepened. “Let Noah know,” he said. “I’m going to check the training area, see if Beck showed up early and just didn’t check in.”
Brenna and Colt nodded, then moved fast down the hall to the incident room. Inside, the lights were dimmed slightly, the glow from the screen casting harsh shadows. Photos filled the display: Naomi, Gary, and Wallace. And the dead. Marcus. Leah. Jared. His uncle, Raymond.
Harlan and Noah were both on their phones, pacing.
Brenna waited until Noah ended his call. “Beck is possibly missing,” she said. “He didn’t show. Cal said he’s not answering his comms.”
Noah stopped cold. His expression shifted, jaw tightening.
