Shit. He’s right.
Taking several deep breaths, I take out my phone again. Then I dial the number for Doug’s Diner, reminding myself while the phone rings not to snap at whoever answers.
On the third ring, a woman picks up the phone. She sounds breathless. Stressed. “Doug’s Diner,” she says. “This is Glenda. How can I help you?”
“Glenda,” I reply, working hard to keep my tone calm. “It’s Webb. Is Noelle there? It’s very important that I speak with her.”
There’s a long pause, where all I can hear is the buzz of diners in the background. Then she says, “Noelle isn’t here.” She stops. “Hang on. Let me get Doug.”
My mouth goes dry. “She’s not there,” I hiss at Rafe. “What the fu?—”
“Webb?” Doug’s voice comes across the line. “What’s going on?”
“Noelle. She’s not there?”
He sighs. “No, she didn’t show up for her shift, so I called her about twenty minutes after. She sent me a text saying she’s sick. It didn’t seem like her, not calling ahead, but I know she’s been through a tough time.”
My pulse throbs in my throat. “Thanks,” I reply absently. Then I end the call with a numb finger.
“Spidey?” Rafe asks. “What’s going on?”
“She called out. But she texted me before work. She didn’t say she was sick. Why… if she didn’t want to worry me…”
I know there could be a logical explanation for this. Maybe Noelle really is sick, and she didn’t want me rushing back from Seattle because of it. Maybe she got food poisoning, and it came upon her without warning. Maybe?—
Fuck. There could be a logical explanation. But my gut is telling me it’s something far worse than that.
“I need to go to her apartment.” I start jogging towards the front door. “I need to make sure she’s okay. If she’s sick, maybe she’s hurt...”
Only feet from the door, an even worse possibility strikes me.
And that’s why, instead of racing to my car, I reach for my phone.
Scarcely breathing, silently praying, I open the tracking app that’s connected to the necklace I gave her. The app that’ll show me—oh shit, I hope—that she’s still at her apartment in Williston. Once I see that, I can go over there. See what’s wrong. Bring her to the doctor if necessary. Or have Indy come look at her.
Shit, forget that. I’ll bring Noelle back here, where she belongs.
In the moments it takes for the app to load, I tell myself I’m just overreacting. Noelle’s fine, I’m panicking over nothing, just being the overprotective boyfriend she tells me I am.
Then the app opens.
I click on her name.
The map zooms out before re-centering again.
Noelle’s little red dot appears.
My lungs seize.
Oh, shit.
“Spidey?” Rafe’s voice sounds like it’s coming from a great distance. “Where is she?”
My throat narrows.
Panic steals my breath.
I don’t want to believe it. But the proof is right there.
