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“Well, if you insist.” Nate dug into his pocket, pulled out a set of keys, and held them out to her. “Me and Ty changed out your locks and installed an alarm on your apartment. You’ll have to let me know later what code you want to use. If anyone tries to break in, the alarm goes off and a notice gets sent to our monitoring station so they can contact the police. We can also install an app on your phone that’ll let you and Shailene know if the alarm gets triggered while you’re away.”

Their fingers brushed as she took the keys, and she tried her best to ignore the zing of electricity that ran up her arm. “Wow. Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course we did. I meant what I said about keeping you safe.”

She was touched by the gesture, though, to be honest, she was also a little uncomfortable with it. Not that he did anything wrong; she just wasn’t accustomed to people doing things for her. Even as a kid, she’d been the one who helped other people and not the other way around. So when the proverbial shoe was on her foot, she tended to feel a bit awkward.

Feeling like an ingrate, she mustered a smile. “Thank you. And please tell Ty I said thanks the next time you see him.”

“Will do. He would have tagged along for lunch, but he’s booked solid for the rest of the day.” He shifted in his seat, and when the smile faded from his face, she braced for whatever he was about to say. “I asked Nina to poke around; see if she could find anything about your sister. There hasn’t been any activity on Rita’s credit cards, and no outgoing calls on her phone.”

Dorcas wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but she felt a stab of disappointment to hear that Nina had found nothing that shined light on the situation. “Oh. Well, I appreciate her trying.”

“But she was able to find the name and address of the auto auction your sister works for. It’s not that far from here. If you want, we can go there when you get off work. Considering she was supposed to be out of town on business, perhaps they can shed some light on what’s going on. When does your shift end?”

“Two thirty. But you don’t have to come with me. I can take care of it.”

“I know, but I want to help.” His smile returned, brighter than before, and it made her think of things that weren’t anywhere on the menu. “What do you say? I’ll even let you drive.”

ORLANDO PREMIER AUTOAuction was located in an area that used to be considered the outskirts of town, but rampant development had bulldozed most of the forests and orange groves around it and replaced them with subdivisions and strip malls.

Dorcas cruised the crowded lot in her old Honda Civic until she finally found an empty spot five rows away from the building. She cut the engine, and as she stared straight ahead at the massive glass and concrete structure, a sense of unease snaked down her spine. It was totally irrational. Nothing bad was going to happen to her here. The auction had been in business for over thirty years and had a flawless reputation. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling, and wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“You okay?” Nate asked from the passenger seat, a pair of sunglasses shielding his eyes. The first hints of stubble shadowed his jaw, making him look even more like a bad boy. But it was the genuine concern in his voice that did strange things to her heart.

She forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

His expression conveyed his doubt, but he didn’t say a word.

Feeling oddly defensive, Dorcas yanked the key from the ignition. “Shouldn’t the cops be interviewing Rita’s boss instead of us?”

Nate tilted his head down to look at her over the rims of his sunglasses. “What do you think the odds are they’ve done it?”

“Probably not very high.” With a city this large, Orlando Police had a lot on their plates, and searching for someone who may or may not be missing was probably low on their list of priorities. Reaching for the handle, she cracked the door but didn’t open it all the way. “I just feel kind of...I don’t know....weird about this. Rita’s boss doesn’t know me from Adam, and I’m about to roll in there and ask if he knows anything about her disappearance.”

“If he isn’t involved, he won’t think anything of it. He’ll just assume you’re worried about your sister and hopefully want to help. Now come on, let’s go. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can search Rita’s house for whatever fits that key.”

Together, they crossed to the main building, a bright lit, spacious showroom occupied by five luxury vehicles arranged in a wide arc: two matching red Porsches, a black Jaguar, a canary-yellow Ferrari, and a sleek, silver Aston Martin that had Dorcas itching to slide behind the wheel. Each one probably cost more than what she’d earn in the next five years—if she was lucky. No customers in sight, which came as a surprise, considering the number of vehicles in the visitor’s lot.

In the center of the semi-circle was a sleek wood reception desk, manned by an older, heavyset woman with big red hair, even bigger glasses, and a bored expression on her face. The lanyard around her neck held an ID card with the company’s logo and “Phyllis Morgan” in big block letters.

“Can I help you?” Phyllis asked, her voice rougher than sandpaper.

Dorcas stepped closer to the desk and caught a whiff of cigarettes and floral perfume. “Hi, I’m here to see Mr. Salazar.”

“Which one?”

Her pulse skipped a beat. There was more than one? She’d had no idea.

“Paul Salazar,” Nate said from behind.

The woman’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but it’s really important.”

The look on Phyllis’s face said she didn’t believe that for one second. She picked up a pen and clicked the end a few times. “Mr. Salazar is a very busy man. I’ll have to see if he’s available. What’s your name?”

“Dorcas Otero. My sister is Rita Otero.”