“Starling has a tracker.”
“I’m sorry, what?” he splutters.
“My family is worth a great deal of money, Chief Turner. When I was a child, there were several kidnapping attempts made against me, Hunter, Evan, and Clay. As a result, all four of us, as well as our parents, had tracker chips implanted in our bodies.”
“You have…trackers…inside of you?” he questions incredulously.
“Yes. When Starling and I got together, we knew there was a risk that she could be seen as a weak link and taken with the intention of ransoming her back to me and my family, so she agreed to having a tracker implanted too. All of our wives have agreed to that safety precaution, as well as having full security personnel to protect them.”
“Okay.”
“I checked Starling’s tracker location.”
“And where is she?” he asks, sounding for the first time like he’s taking my concerns seriously.
“She’s almost ten miles from campus.”
“Could she have driven herself—” he starts.
“My wife is a terrible driver, and her security guard usually acts as her chauffeur, but today we all came together in one vehicle that’s parked close enough to us that I can see it right now. She’s not on campus anymore, and there’s no way she drove herself away from here.”
“Maybe we should all just take a breath—” he starts again.
“Chief Turner,you’rethe one who said there had been threats made against her.Youtold me to be careful.Yousuggested she was in danger. Starling would never leave campus, we thought she’d be safe here. She wouldn’t choose to go anywhere alone right now. I’m worried, and I need the police department’s help.”
Chief Turner’s exhale of breath is audible through the phone. “Who was she meeting?”
“Courtney Ortega.”
“And she’s Mrs. Lockwood’s friend?”
“They were friends as children and then briefly in high school, but to my knowledge they haven’t been in touch since a brief, contentious moment during their freshman year here at Kingsacre. When we bumped into Courtney on campus this week, they reconnected, and Courtney came to our home forlunch. She made a few…strange comments to my wife, but they grew up together, so Starling wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. But there’s no way Starling would leave campus without telling me. She knows the only people I’d trust her safety with, other than myself, would be her brother, Hunter Rossberg, or Clay Jansen. She would never go somewhere with anyone else, at least not willingly.”
The silence that lingers after my last words stretches until Chief Turner eventually speaks. “Is there any way of sending me a live link to Mrs. Lockwood’s location? I could send a couple of officers out to check on her.”
“Would you be accompanying them?” I question.
“Oh. Of course,” he reluctantly agrees.
“I’ve texted you the live link. We’re going to follow her too, but my family and I truly appreciate your assistance with this matter. Starling is my parents’ second child, and they’d never forgive themselves if anything happened to her because of our wealth and social status.”
It’s a low blow to remind him who I am and who my parents are, but I don’t care. If pulling strings gets me what I want, it’s nowhere near the worst thing I’ve ever done to get my own way.
“It would be better to allow the police to take the lead on this. I’m confident that your wife has simply gone somewhere with her friend and that it slipped her mind to inform you of her plans, but we’ll check on her.”
“Thank you, Chief Turner,” I say, ending the call. The moment I push out of my seat, the others all follow suit.
“Let’s go,” Evan says, his body language as on edge as I feel.
Walking as a group to the valet station, I point to our car, and the attendant lifts our keys from the lockbox. Taking them from his hand, I shove a hundred-dollar bill toward him, then stride purposefully to the SUV, unlocking it so we can all climb in.
Instead of allowing me to drive, Hunter takes the driver’s seat, starting the engine and driving off campus moments later.
“Is Turner on the move?” I ask, my jaw ticking as Hunter drives quickly in the direction we know Courtney is heading.
“Yep, I think he must have just gotten into a car, because he’s on the street and moving at faster than walking pace,” Clay confirms.
“How long will it take him to reach the warehouse?” Evan asks, his palm gripping Sammy’s thigh tightly.
