23. Dylan

23

DYLAN

I was getting nowhere. My stress was spiraling. There was nothing I could do. Jessica was out there somewhere, and I didn't know what I could do.

What had I overheard when I called Ryan? Was he at a hotel? It could have been a drive-thru.

I pulled over. Driving in circles wasn't helping me to think. What was it? My stomach roiled and I had the shakes. I needed to know Jessica was safe, and it was killing me that I didn't.

My phone rang. "What?" I snapped.

"I have an idea that might work," Sarah said with a giggle. "I can't believe I'm telling you this, but Ethan just told me this is how he would prank one of his friends to find out where they were staying if they wouldn't tell him. You know seventeen-year-olds aren't good for too much, but a good prank, yeah, I'm going to listen to my son."

"Your son thinks he can find out where… you know what, why not? What's this prank?"

I could hear her moving the phone around. She yelled at her son, and then they were both on the line. "Okay, Dylan, you're on speaker phone. Ethan, tell him what you told me."

"Hey, Mr. Anderson. I was just joking. You really want to know this?" Ethan asked.

"Yes, tell me." It took everything I had not to shout.

As Ethan started talking, I could hear Sarah giggling in the background. This kid was brilliant.

"That's devious," I said.

"Trust a seventeen-year-old to come up with such a scheme." Sarah chuckled.

"But look, it only works if what you're offering is what they want. Apparently, some people don't eat pizza." From the tone of his voice, it sounded like he had to be glaring at his mother.

"Too many carbs," Sarah said, confirming my suspicion.

"It would work best if you had a big ticket item you could also give them, like… ah… Smartwatch, maybe?" Ethen suggested.

"Oh, like an iPad," Sarah added.

"I think he has a smart watch and can afford his own iPad," I said.

"He's rich?" Ethan asked.

"I think so," I said.

"Look, no offense, Mr. Anderson, but rich people are greedy. They take more than they ever need."

"Ethan!" Sarah chastised.

"No, he's right. I know more rich people who got that way because they took more than their fair share. What's your point?" I asked.

"He's rich, he'll grab for an iPad, or a free car, or…" Ethan hesitated.

"A rare bottle of wine," I offered. I couldn't think of any place that was open this time of night where I could get a new iPad, but I knew where I could get a Chateau Lafite Rothschild Bordeaux.

"Yeah, something like that. Specifically if it's a bragging point," Ethan said.

"Sounds good to me. You want to make a hundred bucks tonight?"

"Can I, Mom?" he asked Sarah.

"I don't see why not," she said.

"Great. I need to go home and pick up some wine. I'll be there to pick you up in twenty or thirty minutes," I said.

"Go change. You want to look like you work for a delivery company," Sarah was saying to her son as the call ended.

I drove too fast, breaking every speeding law there was. But it was just late enough and this place got quiet at night. There wasn't much of a night life on the peninsula. I left the car running when I got home, dashing inside and to the wine cellar, which was more of a walk-in closet off the kitchen. I scanned the rows of racked bottles.

"Thank you, Dad!" I shouted when I found what I wanted, alphabetically sorted and then stacked in the rack by date. I grabbed the bottle, not caring whether I shook it up or otherwise mishandled it, and ran back to the car.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" I asked a few minutes later as Ethan was sliding into the passenger seat. His hair was uncharacteristically tidy, and he wore a button up Polo and khaki slacks. I had only met the kid a few times, but he had always been in cargo shorts and a flannel shirt over a T-shirt.

"No, but it's worth a shot."

I drove to the pizza place that delivered. Ethan got out of the car and took the bottle of wine with him.

"Should I go with you?" I asked.

"Like that wouldn't look suspicious?" Ethan looked at me like I was an idiot, and admittedly, at that moment, I probably was.

I fidgeted as I watched him shake his shoulders and walk into the pizza place. There were too many signs on the windows for me to see what was going on. I really hoped that the kid's acting skills were up to the task. It was his job to act like a desperate delivery boy who had a big prize that had to get delivered along with a free pizza. Only, he had lost the winner's address and needed the pizza place to call to confirm the delivery address.

So, Ethan was inside doing his best to convince the delivery place to call Ryan, tell him they were told he won some kind of prize that included a two-thousand-dollar bottle of wine and a free pizza, but they were only given his name and phone number. Once they made the call and got confirmation, Ethan would leave the bottle of wine with them.

Back in the car with me, we would wait until we saw the delivery driver take the bottle of wine—serving both as the expensive lure for Ryan to divulge his location, and as a marker for us to know which delivery was going out that we needed to follow. We would then follow, and I could confront Ryan and find out where Jessica was.

At least that was the plan.

I sat up when Ethan pushed his way out of the pizza place. He jogged back to the car and slid into the passenger seat.

"Phew, that was awesome!" He had a huge grin on his face.

"Did it work?" I asked.

"Oh, it worked. It more than worked. Turns out Colin from school works here. He knew I wasn't some schmuck who forgot an address and totally blew a delivery job. I told him what we were trying to do, how we knew the guy was in town somewhere, but there was just no way my mom was going to call five hundred hotels and ask if he was staying there. Colin said he wished he had thought of doing something like this himself. So, yeah. He's gonna make the delivery. He said to hang out and we can follow him."

This plan was working.

"Did he say where, how long?"

Ethan shrugged. "About twenty minutes. He has to make the pizza."

The next twenty minutes were the longest of the entire night. I recognized Colin as soon as he stepped out of the place. He had a pizza box balanced in one hand, and he lifted the wine bottle over his head and waved it around so we could see him.

We followed him into the pull around for the Marriott. I jumped out of the car.

"Thank you. Stay here," I told Ethan as I handed him all of the cash in my wallet, which was probably more than I said I was going to pay him.

"Wow, thanks. But"—Ethan climbed out of the car—"I'm gonna catch a ride with Colin."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah. We're going to go play video games and then I'll go home," he said.

"Don't get me in trouble with your mother," I warned him.

"I won't, Mr. Anderson." He held up the handful of cash. "Thanks."

"No, thank you." I walked into the lobby and stayed just out of sight of Colin with the box of pizza and the bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild. He was standing at the front desk looking bored.

"That mine?" I heard Ryan ask.

Colin turned and gave Ryan one of those stare downs that only a cocky teenager would give someone they didn't like. "Depends. I need to see some ID. I'm not handing this over to just anyone."

Ryan reached into his back pocket. "So, what exactly did I do to win this?"

"I don't know, man, I'm just a pizza delivery guy. Some pitiful jerk who lost your information dumped this all on me. I think it has something to do with the Chamber of Commerce. I don't remember."

Ryan held out his ID, and Colin handed over the bottle of wine and the pizza.

Colin stood looking at Ryan expectantly before Ryan remembered he needed to tip the kid. They handed the box and bottle back and forth. Why didn't they just set it on the counter? Ryan pulled out his wallet and a few bills. They shuffled around again, and then Colin was sauntering out the door. I waited until he was gone before I approached Ryan.

"That's a pricey bottle of wine for pizza," I said.

Ryan held up the bottle as if to show it off, looked at me, and then looked at it. "You do this? You're smarter than you look."

"Where is she?" I snarled.

Ryan looked around and over his shoulder. The lobby had a few people scattered around. "I figure you won't jump me here, too many witnesses. Damn, did I make you sweat? You're still all worked up?" He was laughing. The asshole was actually enjoying all of this.

I ground my molars together. He was right, hitting him had been a poor choice before. Satisfying, but poor. I wasn't going to be able to get away with hitting him again without the hotel staff calling the police on me.

I let out a long breath. "You're right, I'm not going to do anything. Not here. Where is she?"

Ryan shook his head. "No idea. Surprised she hasn't called you. I left her by the side of the road down in Soledad. I think it was Soledad, but it might have been Gonzales."

I was stunned into silence. "You left her by the side of the road? What the hell were you thinking?"

"That I wanted her out of my car. You two deserve each other. I'm gonna go up to my room now and eat this free pizza. In the morning, I expect to see an update on that proposal."

A shocked laugh escaped me. "You honestly think I'm going to authorize and recommend your idea after this?"

Ryan ducked his head and leaned in close. "Yes. And I want you to think about something so that we both know this deal will happen. I left Jessica unharmed. Next time, I might not be so considerate."

I shoved him away from me.

He held up the box and the bottle and tilted his head. "It's all good. All good. Go home, Dylan. Get me those signatures."

I stood in place, seething, as I watched him head toward the elevator. My phone rang.

"What?" I snapped.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." It was Jessica.