Chapter Sixty-Five

Chapter Sixty- Five

Theo

“W hat the fuck do you mean, she’s gone?” My tone is sharp, cutting through the phone like a knife as Jayce relays the news.

“I mean, we can’t find her anywhere. She left the building and she isn’t answering her phone-”

“Where the fuck were you when she left? How did you let this happen?” I squeeze the phone tightly, it’s a wonder the thing doesn’t crack under the pressure of my grip.

“See, that’s the thing. . . you’re really not gonna like this. . .” His tone is hesitant, and I feel a cold sense of calm settle over me.

“Just say it.”

“We got a message that we thought had come from you-”

“What the fuck do you mean you thought it came from me?”

I can hear his exhale over the line. “We think someone duped your number. We got a text that came from you, or so we thought, sending us to help Tony with an urgent business issue for Dante. It said that the other guy, Roberts something, was gonna stay on site with her until we got back. Only we got to Tony’s, and he wasn’t there. And by the time we made it back to your girl’s work, some of her employees said she had just left.”

Yeah, he’s fucking right, I don’t like it. Shit! My girl is nowhere to be found and apparently someone used me as a means of getting my men out of the picture. “Where the fuck could she have gone? ”

“Well. . .” He stretches out the word, “see, that’s the part that you’re really not going to like.”

“What?” I bark, tension coursing through me at his words.

“According to her staff, she ran down to that coffee shop her friend owns. When we got there, there was no sign of her. After we asked around, some of the employees grabbed the owner, who I guess happens to be a friend of hers. Quincy something or other. Cute kid too. Anyway, they had just seen her, I guess she stayed to chat for a bit and then ran into a friend and ended up leaving with him.” He pauses briefly. “She pulled the security footage for us, boss. She left with Tony. Looked real upset when she did too. She had just taken a call, then looked like she was in a real hurry to leave and ended up getting in his car. Now, we can’t reach either one. And her tracker on her phone has been disabled.”

“Shit.” Mind racing, I go over the facts again in my head. Why was Tony at the coffee shop? Why did Danica leave with him; what could she have been upset about? It could all just be nothing, but then, she would have called, texted, something , to check in with me and let me know if she wasn’t able to go back to Prism. She would have known I would worry.

“Let me try calling her. In the meantime, I want you to reach out to Finn. See if he can pull her phone records, along with yours. Try to figure out what the hell happened with that supposed message from me.”

“Got it boss.”

We hang up, and immediately I dial Danica’s cell. It goes straight to voicemail, as if it’s been turned off or the call was blocked. I try Tony’s, but am no more successful in reaching him. “Tony, when you get this, call me!” I hang up.

Fuck! Now what do I do? Running a hand through my hair, I begin pacing back and forth through my small hotel room. We are in California for one of our last away games for this stretch, and even if I was able to bail on my team, I would still be several hours away by flight.

My phone rings as I am continuing to pace the narrow space at the foot of the bed and I immediately answer. “Danica?”

“It’s me.” Finn. Damn.

“Tell me you’ve got something?”

“I’ve got something. But you aren’t going to like it.”

“I’m getting really fucking tired of hearing that today.” I exhale, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hit me.”

I can hear typing in the background as Finn details his findings. “According to the security footage, Danica ran into Tony at the coffee shop. Approximately five minutes later, she gets a call that creates some sort of panic. Looking at her phone activity, she was trying to pull up a rideshare to the hospital where Jonathan had previously been admitted. She ends up getting in the car with Tony and heads in that general direction.”

Finn pauses for a minute, the intensity of his typing increasing as his fingers hurriedly fly across the keys.

“Got anything on the duped message that was sent to the guys?”

“Not yet, I’m still working on that one; it may take a while longer to track. In the meantime, I’m also working to pull security and traffic cam footage to see where she went.”

“This could all be for nothing, right? Like, she could have just run into him and they went to hang out. We could be blowing this way out of proportion.” My calm tone belies the raging storm within me. Something is wrong. I can’t explain it. But I know something is wrong.

“Not likely. Her phone trackers have been completely disabled. Both the software I installed, and the physical chip I planted. The only explanation for that is that someone destroyed them, or the phone itself. Even if the phone was turned off or thrown away, I should still be able to get some sort of hit on her location. I’m not getting anything, which means someone knew to look for it or they were extremely paranoid. Danica knew they were there and knew to keep her phone close in case she ever needed help.”

His tone is grim as he says this, only confirming the worry eating away at me. I hear furious typing over the silent line, occasionally, a few words muttered under his breath, and then, “Yes! Got it!”

My body is tense, every inch of me on high alert, waiting for him to continue.

“Luckily, I hid a backup tracker in a vape pen that she keeps in her bag when she goes out, in the off chance something ever happened and the phone trackers were disabled. And being the genius that I am, I made sure that it was using our company’s latest prototype that allows for remote activation via satellite. . . Got it! She’s moving east, well out of the city. You can thank me for my brilliance later.”

Finally, some good fucking news. I jump up, running towards the small coffee table in the center of the room. “I need to come home.”

“I’ll have a ride waiting for you.” With that, he hangs up .

I don’t even bother throwing my shit together that is neatly folded in the hotel-provided dresser and hanging in the closet. Grabbing my phone and keys, I am out the door without another backwards glance.