“I have to call you back.” I hang up and open the runner tracking app Grace uses to share her location. The little blue dot on the map punches me in the gut so hard, I can’t breathe.
She hasn’t moved since 2:37 p.m.
Flipping on the lights and siren, I lay on the horn until the car in front of me gets the hell out of the way. “VoiceAssist, call Jasper.”
“Grace tell you to stick those fries where the sun don’t shine?” he drawls.
“She never picked up Belle, Jas. Her phone’s still out by the lake. It’s been there for almost five fucking hours. Issue a BOLO and meet me at the end of Pendernales Road, ASAP.”
“Fuckin’ A. I’m already out the door,” he says.
“Wait!” I call before he can hang up. “Get McGrath to pick up Belle from Bark Away Day Care and bring her to the station. Our security code is 8751. They close in fifteen.”
“On it.”
The twenty-five minutes it takes me to reach Grace’s last known location might as well be an eternity. Why didn’t I check the GPS earlier?
Because Grace is always careful.
And she always has Belle with her.
But not today.
If I hadn’t been so distracted—and exhausted—by that goddamn stakeout, I might have remembered that the dog stepped on a wasp and couldn’t run. I would have checked her location every hour on the hour. Hell, I would have kept the app open the entire fucking day.
“Please be okay, darlin’. Please…”
Even as I say the words, I know she’s not. She can’t be. Her phone’s still on. If she were injured, she would have called someone.
Please, Grace. Please be…alive.
The willow trees swaying in the breeze cast long, ghostly shadows across the asphalt as the sun sets behind them. This street dead ends at the Butler Trail, the group of three parking spaces full up. I jump out of the SUV, the engine running and lights still flashing. My boots crunch over the dry grass at the side of the road.
Her phone should be right here.
A few more steps, and I can make out a siren in the distance. Jasper. Thank fuck. I can’t do this alone.
A narrow ditch on the other side of the crumbling parking lot is overgrown with weeds and wildflowers, but something neon orange flashes amid the multi-colored petals.
Grace’s water bottle. Nothing else in this world is that ungodly bright. My heart stutters, then pounds so hard, I feel it in my temples.
I drop to my hands and knees. The bottle is warm, no longer sweating from ice melting in the heat of the day. A single scuff mars one side, but it’s otherwise pristine. Same with the ditch. No trampled flowers, no rocks kicked onto the pavement, no blood.
Tires squeal as Jasper slams on his brakes. “AJ! Where you at?”
“Here!” I push up enough he can see the top of my head, then crouch down again. Her phone has to be close by. I check my own screen. According to the flashing blue dot, I’m right on top of the fucking thing. “Voice Assist, Call Grace.”
The ringer is faint—but close.
Running my hands over the ground, I wince as the sand spurs slice at my fingers. But when I find the device, the pain fades, and my entire world comes crashing down around me. The screen has a single crack—and a dozen missed calls and texts.
Bark Away Day Care, the college, her friend Cristina, and me.
She’s gone. My Grace is gone.
The firm grip on my shoulder shocks me out of my fog. “Give me the phone, AJ.”
I stare up at my brother—at the evidence bag in his hand. “No. It’s…what if she calls?”
