21. Rory

CHAPTER 21

RORY

I wasn’t doing a great job of staying quiet as I tore through Daphne’s apartment. In light of her earlier revelation, I knew she was Daphne, not the alias Katrina. I searched for any sign as to where she was or what might’ve happened while I was gone. I turned over furniture, called her name many times over, and was probably well on my way to waking up the entire block by the time I determined there were no clues to be found there. It came as no surprise to me when I stepped back outside, that Al was making his way across the lawn, a mean look on his face.

“What the hell is going on?” Al demanded to know. “Where’s Katrina?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” I said. “I came to talk to her, and the door was left open, and she’s gone.”

I met Al at the bottom of the stairs and could tell from the frown on his face that he didn’t fully believe me. “It’s true. Why do you think I’ve been yelling her name?”

He rubbed his sleepy eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. But I think something might have happened to her. She was here just a little while ago.” I hadn’t gone directly back to the house after leaving earlier, opting instead to go for a walk. Still, it hadn’t been that long since I’d last seen her. A few hours, maybe.

“You said the door was just open?” He looked over my shoulder and up the stairs. “And no one was inside?”

“Yeah. And her phone, wallet, and keys are all sitting on the bedside table. She wouldn’t leave those behind if she was going somewhere of her own accord.”

“If she went walking on the beach, maybe,” Al suggested. “And since it was so late, middle of the night, she forgot to close the door behind her?”

“I highly doubt it.” Without worrying what Al might make of my behavior, I sniffed the air, trying to catch a hint of Daphne’s smell. Her scent was there all right, but it was faint. If she’d gone walking along the beach, she would have had to make it pretty far for me not to be able to smell her anymore. “Unless she was sleepwalking or something, I really don’t see why she wouldn’t at least take her phone with her. It is the middle of the night, after all.”

He folded his arms. “What’s your theory then?”

“I don’t have one. I just got here a few minutes ago. I’m trying to piece everything together. You don’t have security cameras, do you?”

Al’s face lit up. “Oh, duh! I actually do have cameras!”

He hurried back towards his house, and I was hot on his heels.

“A few months ago, my new patio furniture got stolen in the middle of the night, so I put up a camera. I’m not sure if we will be able to see much since it’s aimed mostly at my back porch, but it’s worth looking for sure.” He stopped at the sliding back door and gave me an odd look.

“What?” I asked.

“I just want to let you know that if there’s nothing on the tape, I’m calling the police, and I’ll expect you to stick around and answer any questions they might have, do you understand?”

It was obvious he was still very suspicious of me, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was that we found Daphne, and the fact that he seemed to have the same goal in mind made me feel the slightest bit better.

“That’s fine,” I said. “Whatever it takes to find her.”

“Alright then.” He opened the door, and we went inside. I’d never been in Al’s house, but it was about what I would’ve expected. Small, modest, but well-kept and clean. He went into the kitchen and opened the laptop charging on the counter. He typed a few keys, then scrolled some and waved me over. “Here’s the footage from tonight.”

Al was right about there being a chance we wouldn’t see much. Not only was the picture grainy, but the way it was angled only showed the bottom of the staircase leading to the apartment door. Still, it was better than nothing. There was a light at the bottom of the back staircase that had been left on all night, thank God. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have been able to see anything from that part of the view. He dragged the video back to the beginning of the night, revealing me walking up the steps and then coming back down a little while later.

“So this is when you left,” he muttered. He started going through the footage ten seconds at a time, skipping ahead for a while. There was no commotion, no movement save a little animal that scurried across the back porch sometime around midnight. Just as I was starting to lose all hope in this footage, a figure appeared.

“There! Pause it!”

Someone, although it was impossible to make out who was standing at the bottom of the staircase leading to the apartment.

“Okay, play it again but at half speed.”

Al did as I asked, and we both leaned in to get a better look.

The figure walked up the stairs at about twenty minutes after twelve. They were off-screen for about ten minutes, then returned. There was no sound, so we couldn’t say for certain whether or not the person had entered the apartment. But why would they just stand at the top of the stairs doing nothing for all this time?

All was still for another minute, and then two figures appeared—the same one from before, plus a taller one. They went back up the stairs and were gone for a short while. Then, they emerged, carrying something between them.

A body.

“That’s Katrina,” Al whispered.

“I know.”

“What—what the fuck did they do to her? Is she?—”

“No,” I said. “I don’t think she’s dead.” If there had been any blood in her apartment, I would’ve smelled it right away. That didn’t rule out all forms of murder, but I also hadn’t seen any signs of a struggle, so all in all, I was fairly certain they hadn’t hurt her. “She just looks like she’s passed out.”

“But who are they? What do they want with her?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said. “Is there anyone besides yourself and Daphne who has a key to the apartment?”

“Daphne?”

“I mean Katrina. Sorry. Daphne’s—uh—her middle name. Anyway, about the keys.”

Al shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. There’s an extra set of keys in the bar, in my desk drawer, but that should be the only other copy.” He re-wound the video and watched it again. “That figure looks sort of like a woman, don’t you think? There’s some hair poking out from under her hood.”

“Maybe. Katrina is small enough that it wouldn’t require two grown men to carry her down the stairs. Were there any creeps at the bar recently? Anyone who was giving her a hard time or bothering her?”

“Besides you?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. I wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

“No,” he said when I didn’t even crack a smile at his quip. “I didn’t see anyone acting shady, and she didn’t mention any patrons making her uncomfortable. Did she say anything to you tonight?”

“Not that would lead me to think she was in danger. I never would’ve left if I thought something like this might happen.” I drew in a deep breath and wracked my brain to try and come up with an explanation. Was it possible she had told someone else about being a werewolf? Someone who wouldn’t have been as understanding as me?

“Al—what did you know about Katrina?”

“Not much, why? You think she might be involved with some bad people? I always figured she was running from something, but I never guessed it was anything this bad.”

Could this be about her parents?

“And you’re sure this is the only footage? Does anyone else have cameras up in the neighborhood?”

“Not sure,” he said. “Seeing as Solara Bay is so safe, I’d be surprised, but I can ask around.”

“Do it.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now,” I scolded him. “She needs our help. If we don’t find her soon, they could kill her!”

This seemed to snap Al to attention. He shut his computer and went for the door. “You’re right. Fuck decorum. I’m going. You coming?”

At first, I was going to refuse. I thought it was best that someone stay at the apartment in case anyone returned—Daphne or her captors. But then I saw the look of fear in Al’s eye, and I could tell he was asking because he probably didn’t want to go knocking on doors alone. He was an older guy, fit but not particularly strong.

I didn’t blame him for being freaked out. The only reason I wasn’t more scared was that I knew I could take care of myself if need be.

Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that, I thought as I followed him out. But I won’t hesitate to turn if they’ve hurt her in any way.

We went house to house, but I hung back and let Al do most of the talking. These were his neighbors, after all, and I was feeling antsy enough just being there when, under different circumstances, I would’ve been running full-speed in wolf form, tracking down the woman I could no longer deny I was in love with.

I hated standing around and waiting for more information to come my way. It was tortuous, and I couldn’t seem to stop my mind from running through all the various ways these kidnappers might be hurting Daphne. In an attempt to keep myself from going crazy, I tried to catch her scent a handful of times as I followed Al down the street, one house or business at a time, but there was nothing left of her in the air. This scared me more than what I saw on the camera footage because it meant they had definitely put her in a car and driven away—probably as fast as they could.

They could be nearing the state border at this point. Or maybe they’d gone to the airport and were already on their way out of the country.

Stop it . Don’t go there .

I needed to stay calm, alert, if I was going to be able to help her.

The first two doors Al knocked on heeded no answer, but at the third stop, someone opened the door. On the other side was an older man wearing a robe over his flannel pajamas. He looked exhausted, but he smiled when he saw Al.

“Oh, hey,” he said. “I thought you were my grandson. He’s visiting me this summer, and he goes out late with his friends every night. Half the time, he forgets his key.”

“Ah, I see. I was wondering why you answered the door so quickly. Look, I’m sorry to bother you at this hour,” said Al. “But a friend of ours has gone missing. I don’t know if you met Katrina. She’s the woman I recently hired to work at Smart Choice.”

He frowned. “I can’t say I have. She’s missing?”

Al gave this man a quick rundown of events and then asked if he’d seen anything or anyone suspicious that night. The man shook his head at first, and then his eyes widened in recollection. I held my breath. “Did you say that the people you saw in the video footage were dressed in all black?”

“Yes,” Al confirmed. “And they had hoodies or black hats because their heads were covered as well.”

The man nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I did see someone wearing all black last night.”

“You did?” Al said excitedly.

“Yes. She was walking out of the market, and I noted what she was wearing because…” he trailed off.

“Why?” I asked, stepping forward so that I could make sure I didn’t miss a word this sleepy man said. “Why did you take notice of what she was wearing?”

“Because she was such a pretty woman,” the man said, almost embarrassed. “She had this long auburn hair and a smile that would just knock you on your ass. I thought it was strange that a woman like that would hide under so many layers of black, especially in the summer, and when I went into the market, I asked my friend who worked there if he knew who she was. I’d never seen her in town before, but then again, I haven’t been getting out as much as I used to.”

“Did he know who it was?”

“Yeah, he said she’s new to these parts,” the man informed us, furrowing his brow. “I think he said her name was like Meredith or Miranda. Now I’m forgetting.”

“Melissa?” Al’s voice croaked. “Could it have been Melissa?”

“That’s it!” He snapped his fingers together. “Her name is Melissa. Now, I’m obviously not accusing this woman of anything, but she was wearing a black hoodie, black pants, and black gloves despite the weather. I’m not going to pretend like that isn’t a little odd.”

“It’s very odd.” Al took a step back, nervously wringing his hands. “Thank you for your time. You’ve been a huge help.”

“Not a problem,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything else. If you don’t find her by morning, I would happily help you canvas the area once the sun is up.” He closed the door, and Al turned to face me. He was white as a ghost.

“What is it? Do you know who this Melissa person is?”

“Yes,” he said, his body now trembling. “Except she told me that nobody really calls her Melissa. Mostly, she’s been introducing herself around town as Missy.”