I shrug. “He’s gay. It’s her old boss.”
“Ah.” He acknowledges, then goes back to munching on his popcorn.
A few moments after she hangs up, tires screech, there’s a sharp intake of breath, and then what sounds like a scuffle. I fly out of my seat when I hear Ellie scream‘no!’ and a car door slam.
“Ellie!”
The sound of tires peeling out tears through the room, and then there’s just silence.
I barely remember making it down to the street—there’s just a faint recollection of Jett ordering me into the elevator because the stairs would take too long. We retrace Ellie’s steps with my mind in a panic. Someone took her. Someone took heragain.I can’t think, I can’t see, as pedestrians and tourists knock me around. I feel like I’m caught in a wind tunnel.
“Kayne!” Jett calls a few yards away from me. He’s crouching by the curb on the corner. I walk over to him dazed. He stands up, holding Ellie’s necklace. “They grabbed her here.”
Those words slice through me like I’ve just been cut with a burning blade.
“And look.” He points to several spots. “Traffic cameras and ATM machines. Maybe they caught something.”
“They better fucking have.”
I’m shaking with rage by the time we get back to the Toy Box. Juice’s fingers are already flying as he hacks into every camera in the area.
“Anything?” I growl.
“Not yet. Give me a second.”
“Juice, fucking find something,” I snap.
“You yelling at me isn’t going to make the process go faster, so back the fuck off.” He concentrates on the screen.
“Kayne.” Jett pulls me back and I begin pacing like a lunatic. Who am I kidding, I am a lunatic. SOMEONE TOOK ELLIE! This is all my fault. I knew I shouldn’t have let her leave. I should have listened to my fucking gut. It’s the one thing that’s kept me alive the past twenty-eight years. I just gambled with, and lost, the most important thing in my life and these two want me stay fucking calm.
“Okay.” There are lots of different things popping up on Juice’s screen. “Look there,” he points to a few mismatched images lined up in a row. “Here she’s walking.” He points to her back. “Then here.” A car pulls up right in front of her just as she reaches the corner. It only takes a second, the picture is blurry, but there’s definitely two of them—one driving an old model sedan and the one who grabbed her. It literally took a split second to get her in the car and drive away.
My brain feels like it’s expanding in my skull from stress.
“Can we get a better picture of the car? Maybe a shot of the license plate?” Jett asks.
“Yup, found that.” Juice bangs on the keys. “It’s only a partial, but you can see the make, too. That’s huge.”
The letters FHK and MALIBU display across the big screen on the wall.
“I’m cross-referencing both identifiers in the DMV database and searching to see if there are any police reports about a stolen Malibu.”
The whole process feels like it takes forever. I know every second that ticks by is one more second our chance of finding Ellie diminishes.
“Okay,” Juice finally announces. “There are three potential hits on the car with that make and license plate letters. No reports of stolen vehicles.”
“Three?”
“Yeah, two in Honolulu and one in Ma’ili. I would try that one first.” He scribbles on a piece of paper and hands it to Jett.
“Why do you say that?” he asks.
“Ms. Kalani has a brother who was released from prison three months ago. Drug trafficking.” He cocks an eyebrow. “Her address is listed as his last known.”
I look at Jett. “Let’s go.”
THE ADDRESS JUICE GAVE USis a small farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. I think you can literally only fit a couch and a television in the rundown structure.
