Hiro dropped the lock on the ground and mounted her bike on the run. Banking the front corner of the store, she spotted Gordy sprinting along the side of the building. She pumped harder and passed him just as they reached the alley.
The vehicle was stopped, driver’s door open, about three quarters of the way down the length of the building. A shadowy figure pitched Cooper’s bike in the back and slammed it shut.
“Noooooo!”
The man dashed back into the SUV, hit the gas, and peeled out—sending gravel pinging off the pavement toward her.
He must have thrown him in the back seat. “COOP!”
In seconds the car disappeared around the corner. She didn’t even catch the number on the plates.
She clamped on the brakes and stopped, dumping her bike as she did. Too late for the camera. Hands trembling, she fumbled for her phone as Gordy pounded up.
He bent over, hands on knees gulping for air. “Gotta—help—Coop. 9–1–1.”
She was on it, if her hands would stop trembling enough to hit the right keys.
Her phone rang instead, startling her. Coop!
She connected and swung it to her ear. “Are you okay?”
“Where is he?” Gordy reached for the phone.
Hiro pulled away. “Over the fence?” She looked down the alley. “He got over the fence. He’s on foot. By the playground behind Kimball Hill School.”
“Tell him to hide,” Gordy said, already running for the fence.
“We’ll come to him.”