20. Dane

20

DANE

P ebbles and rocks fly in a miniature avalanche as I skip down the low hill surrounding the eastern side of the campground. I hit level turf and break into a dead run. The gunshot seemed like it came from the other side of the cabin.

Could just be a hunter. But I’ve got a sick feeling that it’s not. I can’t believe I ranged that far out. I should have stayed closer to the cabin. Or better yet, never left it in the first place.

As I round the corner, I find the front door remains closed. No signs of forced entry. Just as I’m about to throw the door open and shout Selene’s name, my phone dings.

Quickly, I drag the device out and peer at the screen. A message from Selene. My hands shake so bad I almost drop the phone as I open the message.

Here’s the thing, Dane.

Ever since we hooked up, it’s clear you care more about banging me than finding my brother.

Little do you know that I think I can do better on my own.

Please don’t try and come after me, that would just be embarrassing.

Maybe next time think with your head, not your dick.

Everything will be alright now, I’ll find my brother on my own .

The screen is hard to make out. I sway, planting a firm hand on the doorframe to keep my balance. What in the Hell is she thinking? Even if she doesn’t want to be involved with me anymore, going after Moreno by herself is suicide.

I just can’t figure out why she’s doing this. Did she wake up and find me gone, and then get pissed off? I shouldn't have left her alone.

But what about the gunshot? I guess it was just a coincidence. It was just a hunter, and I overreacted.

Only, it’s not legal to hunt in this area. Not that people don’t break the law, but none of this is adding up.

I stare at the message again. The first thing that sticks out is how the message doesn’t sound like Selene. It’s not something she would say. If Selene were going to break up, she wouldn’t go about it like this.

Her phrasing is awkward and unwieldy, too. Selene’s sharp, and has been texting as long as she’s had thumbs. No way would she send a clunky text like this.

So why did she do it?

My eyes widen and my heart stops for a moment. Because somebody made her send it. That’s the only reasonable explanation.

So she probably sent this text with a gun to her head, figuratively or literally. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Selene is way too smart to pass up an opportunity to send a message along to me.

I wasn’t a code breaker in the Navy, but all the recruits had to attend classes and seminars on encryption. I never did very well and didn’t pay much attention. Maybe I should have, because if Selene left a message, I have no idea what it might be.

Using a stick and dirt as pen and paper, I try counting the first letter of every sentence, and seeing if it lines up with directional coordinates. But my first attempt has Selene out in the middle of the ocean. So that’s out.

Then I look down at the scratches in the dirt, where I have the letters written out.

Help me.

Acrostic message. Fuck me, I was overthinking it. We had that whole conversation about them and everything, and I’m trying to break down fucking military coordinates.

I begin a thorough check of the campground while sending off an SOS text to Platinum Security’s group chat, letting them know I’ve lost my client. It doesn’t take me long to figure out how they got in.

I drop to a crouch, fingering the dirt. Two sets of tracks, one a man’s size ten or twelve. Woman size nine. I follow the tracks up to the gravel logging trail.

Tire tracks, clear as day. There was definitely a vehicle here, and it seems logical that Selene was taken away in it.

My phone rings, and I quickly answer without even looking to see who’s calling.

“Hello?”

“Dane, are you all right?” Harlowe says. “We got your message.”

“I’m fine. But I think the Moreno family has Selene. Fuck. I screwed up, sis.”

“Calm down. Tell me everything you know.”

I give my sister the rundown, which doesn’t take long as I don't really know much.

“All right. Take a photo of the tire tracks and text it to me.”

My heart skips a beat.

“Can you find the vehicle that way?”

“Maybe, it’ll give me a place to start anyway. Hurry up.”

I focus on the tire tracks and snap a pic before sending it to her. Then I anxiously pace around in the road for about five minutes while she works her techno wizardry.

“Okay,” Harlowe says at last. “The good news is I identified the tire tracks. They belong to a domestic SUV model from about three different manufacturers. The bad news is that doesn’t narrow it down much, because there’s thousands in this area code alone.”

“So it’s useless,” I sputter.

“Calm down, I’m not finished. The further good news is that I cross-referenced the SUV brands with vehicles registered to Moreno. The further bad news is that he owns about a dozen.”

“Harlowe, you’re killing me here. ”

“And,” she says as if I hadn’t spoken, “the further, further good news is that Moreno has his vehicles registered to Onstar. And the further, further, further good news is I just hacked his account and am tracking his vehicles as we speak…and there’s only one that’s close enough to your location to be the right one.”

“Oh my God, Harlowe, you’re the best. Whatever you want for Christmas, it’s yours.”

“I just want to rule the world. Go get your ride, and I’ll guide you right to them. But first, you’re going to need some backup.”

“I don’t need backup, Harlowe,” I growl, rushing back to my truck.

“I disagree, and so does our boss, Jax. So just deal with it.”

“I don’t have time to drive all the way back to LA, Harlowe.”

“You won’t have to,” she replies with a sigh. “I wish you’d trust me more. This help is in your area, more or less.”

“Who is it? Cole? Grayson?”

“No, neither of those august gentlemen. It’s a new guy we’re trying out. Axel Sawyer. He’s a friend of Cole’s.”

“Never heard of him. Is he former military?”

“Good guess. Army Ranger, Marksman level on every weapon you care to name. Comes highly recommended.”

“I guess beggars can’t be choosers,” I say. “Listen, I’m going to get on the road. We’ll figure things out from there.”

With Harlowe’s help, I coordinate the meet-up with Axel. I’m still on the phone when I first see him pull up.

“Oh Hell no, Harlowe. No way. Not this guy.”

“What’s wrong with him?” she sputters. “I told you, he comes highly recommended.”

“Yeah, well, the guy’s got huge 80s shades and is driving a Shelby Cobra…and he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt. No way can I take him seriously.”

“Do you want to get Selene back or not?” she says.

“Fine. But if this guy gets me killed, I’m never speaking to you ever again.”

“That’s…true? Just deal with it and find Selene.”

I put away the phone and step out of the truck. As I approach the cobra, its driver pulls his shades down and gives me an appraising eye.

“Great ink, man. Who’s your stick?”

“People overseas whose names I never learned,” I say. “Are you Axel?”

“I am. I hear we’ve got an abduction scenario, with a possible second victim?”

At least he seems all business. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

“Yeah, that about sums it up. My sister is tracking the location of our victim and the kidnappers.”

“And you don’t want to get the police involved?”

“There’s a possibility that Selene, that is, my client’s brother might be injured or killed if we involve the authorities. Besides, what can they do that we can’t do better?”

He chuckles and juts his head toward the passenger seat. “Hop in and let’s go find your client and get her home in one piece.”

“All right. Just remember, this is my show and I’m in charge.”

He snaps off a sarcastic salute.

“Sir, yes, Sir. I’m banking on Jax agreeing to my generous recruitment package if I do him a solid. You, my friend, are the solid, so I’m going to do whatever you want me to do, whenever you want me to do it.”

“Does that involve shutting up on occasion?” I growl.

“Hmm. Nope, sorry.”

“Swell.”

I hop in the car and barely get situated before he takes off like a bolt of lighting.

Hang on, Selene. I’m coming.