I can’t take this any damn longer. “Have to find her,” I whisper, rubbing again at my chest. “Fuck waiting any longer.”
But where to look?
“Her mom’s house,” Rafe says. “We can start there.”
“The police checked it.”
“We check again,” he says. “We will find her.”
Unlike when John said it, the conviction in Rafe’s voice hits me like a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart.
“Yeah, let’s start there.” I start down the steps.
“Get in my truck,” Zane says, “and I’ll drive. I don’t trust you behind the wheel right now.”
Just as well. I don’t trust myself today, either.
I call John as we climb into Zane’s beaten-up pick-up truck. “Any news?” I ask the moment he answers, no preamble, no niceties.
“Hansen.” He sounds rough, as exhausted as I feel. “We found a receipt from another motel out of town in his things. We’re checking that and—”
“Just keep me posted.”
There’s a sense of urgency now that the guys are here. A sense we can find her, with or without the help of the police. It’s probably a false sense of hope from seeing familiar faces, having their support after all this time when I was trying to keep them away and survive this on my own.
I direct Zane to Octavia’s house, and as we round the corner and it appears, silent and still in the morning light, I slump back in the seat, my breath coming short and rattling.
Zane grips my shoulder hard. “Hold on in there, fucker.”
“She’s not here,” I whisper, not sure how I think I know that. “He wouldn’t bring her here. Too fucking easy. He doesn’t want it to be easy anymore.”
“You said he’s trying to scare you.” Rafe is frowning at the house. “Make you feel what he felt when his sister died. He doesn’t want it too easy. But he has been giving you clues.”
I barely hear him. “He’s gonna kill her.”
“Man, breathe, okay?” Zane shakes me. “And why the fuck are you saying that?”
“That’s what he said in his last message. He said, ‘You will lose what’s precious to you.’” I pull on my beard, then my hair. I barely feel any pain. “He made me think it would be the kids. Maybe that was his first idea, too. But then… he decided to take Octavia. He lost his sister. Motherfucker will take Octavia from me.”
“Matt, listen to me,” Zane says, and I try. “He’s not getting out of town. The police have roadblocks.”
“They do?” I blink at him stupidly.
“They are taking this seriously, man.”
Yeah. I guess I know that, but it didn’t occur to me they’d close off the town.
“We only have to think like he does. Where he’d go. And why.” Zane lets go of my shoulder. “Where did you last see him?”
“The garage. Jasper’s Garage, where I work. You think he’d hole up there with her?”
“With her or not, that makes no difference. He may have locked her up someplace. If we find the sick fuck, he will tell us where she is.”
Rafe is nodding, and hell, he’s right.
“Let’s go, then. What are we waiting for?”
The shop is still closed, so I call Evan to open for us. He answers after the seventh or eighth ring, sounding like a something out of a horror movie.