CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“WHERE’S MY DAUGHTER?”

“As much as I would love to field your every question, due to the unsecured nature of this call, I’m afraid the clock is ticking. Now—”

“I came to Parker Lane.”

“We had to move on, Jim, due to your extracurriculars.”

“We were attacked.”

A brief pause at the other end reverberated more loudly in my ears than the belle’s Southern twang. “Congratulations for surviving, yet again. Not many have. Follow directions and you won’t have to test the fates further. We’re out of time. One block south of the station you’ll find your truck.”

“My truck? I thought it was—”

“Fine, minus the windshield. This time be a good boy.”

The connection went dead. I jumped up from the bench until I had a clear view of my truck parked beside a convenience store a block away.

Marisol emerged from the station, jogging to my side. “You were right, nothing.”

I pointed. “My truck.”

“I thought—”

“Me too, but honestly all I remember is flying through the windshield. I assumed I’d collided with another vehicle.”

“Understood, but why is it here?”

“It has to be them. This is the next step to finding Evie. Come on.” I took off at a sprint, expecting Marisol to object.

“Buck!” She kept pace. “It could be rigged.”

“They don’t want me dead. There must be directions inside.”

She pulled even with me, flush from the strains of the day. “How did you spot it? Bit of a stretch if they were betting on you finding it parked way over here.”

“Not that much of a stretch.” I puffed as we reached the truck. The windshield had been completely removed. Other than that, it looked fine. After a sidelong look at Marisol I tugged at the driver-side door. It was unlocked. Nothing exploded. “Get in.”

Marisol had already started around the other side. She opened the passenger door. “And go where?”

I started it up and checked the onboard map. “Here.” A section of Austin had been left in the computer, a route highlighted. I shifted into reverse while zooming in. “1672 Vega.”

“That’s my house.”

Marisol and I locked eyes. For the first time, I saw in her the same confusion I’d been experiencing all day—the shock of vulnerability. I slammed down the accelerator, bouncing into the street. “Just tell me the quickest way to get there.”