The name hit Kent like a lead ball. Tyson? Jack’s name was Tyson? Wasn’t that the name Lance had mentioned tonight?
“But that stupid doper Tyson showed up at her house. She said she’d call me right back. I’m waiting.”
Could it be the same guy?
If Tyson was the same person who was making a move on Lance’s girlfriend . . . Kent’s heart stumbled. “So Emily is the one who got him kicked out?” he asked Bo. “What happened?”
“They arrested the guy right there, and he screamed like a hyena all the way out. He went to jail for a few months.”
Something exploded in Kent’s chest. “You didn’t bother to tell me that before?”
“I didn’t think of it until just now, man!”
Kent pulled out his phone. Should he call Andy or Barbara first? Lance had to know this now. This explained how the killer knew the Covingtons were staying at his house instead of their own. He could have followed Lance there from school . . . or maybe Lance let it slip.
Bo’s words came faster now. “Jack, he had a nightmare mother — controlling and mean — and his dad was in a wheelchair. He was a brick shy of a load, I’m telling you. Scary dude.”
Terror clutched him. Was Tyson baiting Lance to cause more chaos for Emily?
So what would Tyson do now? If his insanity had escalated to the point that he’d start a fire and murder someone else the same night, after already killing two others, would he just sit by and wait to hear about his accomplishments on the news? Or would he be agitated enough to do more?
Kent speed-dialed Barbara’s phone.
Barbara jumped awake at the sound of her cell phone ringing. Groggy, she grabbed it off of the table next to her and saw that it was Kent. She flipped it open. “Hello?”
Kent cleared his throat. “Babe, it’s me.”
She frowned and sat up. “What is it?”
“I’m in Birmingham.”
“Birmingham?” she said, turning on the lamp. Emily, lying next to her, stirred awake and squinted up at her. “Kent, what are you doing there?”
“It’s a long story. But let me talk to Lance.”
“Okay.” She lowered the phone and looked at the empty bed next to them. “Where’s Lance?” she asked Emily.
Emily shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Barbara got out of bed and threw open the door. Lance wasn’t in the hotel hallway. She ran to the banister that overlooked the lobby. “Lance!” she called, not caring who she woke up. But he wasn’t there.
“Kent, he’s gone!”
Kent muttered something she couldn’t hear.
“What’s going on?” she shouted. “Tell me!”
There was a pause, then Kent spoke. “We found Carter dead. Let me talk to Emily, and you call Lance from the landline. Get him back there.”
Terrified, Barbara went back into the room, put her cell on speakerphone, and thrust the phone at Emily. “Lance is gone. Carter Price is dead.”
“What?” Emily took the phone. “Kent, what happened?”
“It’s Jack Tyson from Haven House,” he said. “He’s the one doing this.”
Emily froze and looked up at Barbara. “Jack? His last name is Tyson?”
“Who is he?” Barbara asked as she tried to call Lance.
“He got kicked out . . .” Emily’s voice trailed off. “Kent, Lance might be with him right now.”
Barbara listened as Lance’s phone rang through to voice mail. “He’s not answering.”
Kent grunted. “He was in the hall when I left two hours ago. I told him to go back in.”
“He did come in,” Emily said, “but he told me he was upset about Tyson being at April’s. He went back out to talk on the phone so he wouldn’t wake up mom. He might have gone over there.”
“Barbara, find Lance. Keep calling him. I’m calling Andy, but you get him home!”
When he hung up, Barbara redialed. Again, it went to voice mail. “Lance Covington,” she yelled. “If you’re with Jack Tyson, get away from him now and call me! He’s the one who killed those women and set fire to Kent’s house . . .” Her voice broke. “Oh, Lance, please call me and let me know you’re all right!”
She hung up, ready to implode.
“I’ll text him,” Emily said. “Maybe he’s not answering because he’s afraid he’ll get in trouble for sneaking off.”
“Yes,” Barbara said, wiping her tears. “Do that.”
She waited as Emily texted Lance. As they waited for an answer, Barbara searched the hotel phone book for April’s parents, dialed the number.
Her mother answered. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Nelson . . . I don’t know your first name, I’m sorry. I’m Barbara, Lance’s mother.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m Nan.”
“Nan, is Lance there with April? I need to talk to him.”
“Hold on.” She heard sheets rustling, and there was a long pause. Lance still hadn’t texted back, but Barbara braced herself, praying he would come to the phone.
Finally, Nan came back. “Barbara, he’s not here. I just got home a little while ago and April wasn’t here. She didn’t leave a note.”
“Is my car there?”
“No. Maybe she’s out with Lance.”
“Nan, do you know if she’s seen a guy named Tyson tonight?”
“Probably. I know he was trying to get her to go out with him tonight, but she told me she didn’t want to. I guess he could have changed her mind. I was a little distracted at the time, so I’m not sure.”
Barbara bit back the urge to tell the woman that she’d better get in the game, because her daughter was probably with a killer.
Trying to calm her voice, she said, “Nan, try to reach your daughter. Her life could be in danger.”
When she hung up, Emily shook her head. “Mom, he still hasn’t texted.”
“Where is he?” Barbara shouted.
Emily crutched across the floor in her pajamas, clutching her phone so she wouldn’t miss Lance’s text. But nothing came. “I knew this guy Lance kept talking about was bad news. I told him to stay away from him.”
“Emily, why didn’t you put this together?”
“Because I didn’t call him Tyson. I only called him Jack. His last name was on a file somewhere, but if I ever saw it, I don’t remember. But Jack knew how close I was to Lance. He’s targeting him to hurt me. All this stuff with April. It’s not about her at all. It’s about Lance. It’s about me!”
Barbara called Kent back, put him on speakerphone. “Can you trace where his cell phone is? Can you find him, Kent?”
“I’m working on it. Emily, any way you can get this guy’s cell phone number?”
She thought of Lance’s other friends. There weren’t many. But some of her college classmates were graduates of that high school. Maybe someone knew Tyson. “I’ll make some calls.”
“Good. Hurry! I’m headed home, and Andy’s putting an APB out on Tyson’s car. We’re running data on him to see what we can find out. Keep calling Lance. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”