Chapter Twenty-Four

“S he’s not here.”

Brock pronounced the words like a death sentence, frustration lacing each syllable. Congregating with the other members of their little search warrant party, Olivia shifted her weight to one hip, refusing to look as defeated as she felt. This was not the end! They still had other options.

“Have you had any other shipments going out?” She directed her question to the manager, standing there like a drowned rat and looking more and more miserable by the minute.

He shook his head. “Just last Sunday and Monday.”

Olivia tucked the information away to use later. “When is your next shipment due after this one?”

The man fought another sigh. “Not until two days from now.”

“Do you ever see the owner Alasdair Crosby coming around here?” Brock asked.

A simple shrug combined the man’s answer. “Yeah, I do. Every once in a while, he comes up here to oversee the shipping. He isn’t around every single day, though.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” Olivia had to know if he was still in the area. If he wasn’t, maybe he had taken Susanna with him some other way.

“Last Sunday, before the shipment. He came around, inspecting something, but then he got a phone call and left.”

“Did he happen to say anything to you?”

“What do I look like, a walking book of records?” The annoyance in the man’s tone only doubled with her repeated questions. “I believe he said something about delaying one of the containers. I don’t care, I just check off what’s on the deck and what’s not and go from there.”

“Do you know where we can find him?” Brock’s question was a shot in the dark, but even a shot in the dark could be deadly.

“No,” came the all-too-expected reply. “I don’t ask questions. I don’t question him and I don’t ever expect to see him. His surprise visits are nothing more than a nuisance. It slows the process down. Pain in my ass.”

Olivia glanced behind her as the other officers made wise use of their time, searching the area about the dock causally, not wanting to give up yet. Maybe giving a second look-over to pick up clues rather than obvious missing teens. “All of the containers that are going out on this shipment have been loaded, right?”

“Right. All we have to do is get out of here. As it is, we’re going to be late enough already.”

Well, that was just too bad. Olivia nodded. “Thank you.”

She pulled Brock next to the guard shack, out of hearing and leaned closer to him. Her murmurs were barely heard above the rain and the thundering waves. The occasional crack of thunder caused her to pause to wait for the rumbles to pass .

“Where is she?” Olivia looked back at the cargo ship they had needlessly searched. “She’s been missing since this morning, where could she possibly be?”

Brock brought her back down to earth again, using logic against her worst nightmare. “She can’t be far. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. And if no other shipments have gone out, that means she still has to be in the area, right?”

“Unless the manager wasn’t telling the truth. I’ll call the Coast Guard and see what we’ve got in the way of ships from Crosby Inc. In the meantime, if he didn’t rush her to the ship right away, what happened to her?”

“If I were Alasdair, where would I take her?” Brock clawed his fingers through his damp hair, doing nothing to enhance the appearance it gave off, sticking to his head and curling under the humidity. He barely brought his hand down before he paused, his hand midair, fingers still curled. “Let’s go back to Cape Fremont.” Urgency seized him and he strode toward the car. “I’ll drive.”

“Why?” Olivia trotted up beside him, swinging the keys into his hand.

“Because I know someone who might be able to help.”