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The car lurched ahead with a screech, sped up. Then it turned violently, throwing Reese to the side. Her hand caught on some of the sharp remaining edges of plastic, and she drew it away from the opening, blood trickling down her wrist. The fact barely registered.
Desperation fogged her mind. The driver hit something that had the car bouncing wildly. Her head struck the top of the trunk hard enough to daze her for a few seconds. There had to be a reason he was driving so erratically. She let herself cling to the hope that those horns signaled someone had seen her. But if the drivers were no longer behind them, what good would it do?
She needed a more substantial weapon. Reese rummaged around the filthy space, her fingers stretching to explore every nook and cranny. Found nothing. She lay there a moment, striving for logic.
She hadn’t discovered anything in the trunk with which to change a tire, but most vehicles had compartments for those. Painfully, she folded her legs to her chest and moved over. She shoved aside the blanket beneath her and hunted for a seam on the floor.
There. She traced the telltale juncture. She arched her body farther out of the way and wedged her fingers into the seam, pulling until she felt it come loose.
She rolled one way and then another until she could pull the top of the compartment free. Shoving her hand inside, she felt the spare in the center. Then her fingertips felt something hard. She paused, searching blindly. Metal. Large. A car jack? Reesetried to pull it free, but it was attached somehow. For the time being, she continued exploring until she touched another item. Thinner. Smaller. Reese drew it out, using both hands to identify it.
A lug wrench. One with enough heft and weight to be an effective weapon.
Reese clutched it with one hand and settled the compartment top back into place so she could turn on her back, facing the lid of the trunk.
When the driver showed himself again, she’d be ready.
Hayes strodeinto the diner again and shoved in front of the customer paying at the counter. Ignoring the patron’s protest, he addressed the waitress. “What’s Kervin’s last name?”
The server glared at him. “You’ll need to wait in line, sir, just like everyone else.”
“That picture I showed you earlier? That woman? I found her things spilled on the pavement next to her vehicle.” He dropped Reese’s purse on the counter, withdrawing the items he’d found. “Keys. Phone. Her cap.”
He’d nearly missed that. It was behind the front driver’s wheel of the vehicle in the spot next to hers. When he’d picked it up, he’d touched wetness. His fingers came away smeared with blood. The sight of it still made his stomach lurch. “Someone snatched her, and she didn’t go without a fight. Give. Me. The. Name.”
The woman gaped at the items. Then at Hayes. “Kervin’s a harmless sort. I mean, I’ve always thought so.” But she turned to the receipt spindle next to the register and drew the top few off, riffling through them until she stopped and thrust one at him.
He read the name and committed it to memory. “What does he drive?”
“Mister, I don’t know cars. It’s white and kinda old. Has some rust on the sides.”
He could find out himself quicker than trying to jog her memory. “Thanks.” He gathered up Reese’s things and shoved them in the purse, nearly racing to the rear exit. He heard the woman’s voice follow him as he ran. “But Kervin’s car was on the side of the building, not at the back.”
That didn’t mean much. The CNA could have pulled in next to her after she’d returned to her vehicle. Urgency pulsed through Hayes. He ran to Reese’s Hyundai, unlocked it, and tossed her purse into the back seat. He retrieved his backpack from the other vehicle and drew out the laptop, giving silent thanks for Raiker’s state-of-the-art security and connectivity. It didn’t take long to log into a law enforcement database and look up the cell number for Kervin Langrath in the area. There was only one. Then, he accessed the California DMV. Waited impatiently for a result after he typed in the man’s name.
“There you are,” he muttered as a driver’s license showed up on the screen. He lowered his head to peer at it. The man pictured was definitely the one Reese had spoken to in the Tranquility Lakes parking lot yesterday.
He set the computer aside as he reached into the backseat and grabbed her purse again. Drawing out her cell, he mentally searched his memory and then typed in the passcode he’d seen her use a couple of times when she was near him. He searched recent calls to no effect, then turned to her texts. He ignored the ones from him and scrolled to the first message she’d received that morning. She hadn’t listed Kervin in her contacts, but it was easy to figure out who’d sent the message. Maybe the man would answer more readily if the call was coming from a number he recognized.
Hayes called it, anticipation balling in his chest. It rang at least a half dozen times before he heard a low voice answer. “Hey, I’m not gonna be able to talk here. My shift’s about to start, and man, things are extra crazy. But I’m gonna get you more information about Ben, don’t worry. I’m gonna see if I can sneak into the annex today.”
“Kervin Langrath?”
There was silence. Then, “Who the hell is this?”
“Where’s Reese?”
“What? You called on her phone, man.” A moment ticked by. “You the guy who was with her yesterday?”
“Yeah.” His gut hollowed out. He could hear a loudspeaker in the background. The sound of voices. “And you’re the last one who saw her this morning, so why don’t you tell me where she is?”
“I don’t know! I had to go to work so after we spoke for a while, I split. She was still outside the diner when I left. Walking toward the back of the lot, I think. You can talk to the people who work inside. They saw me leave.”
Hayes silently recalled the amount of time it took to drive from the city to TL. The meet had been set for seven forty-five. That didn’t give the man much time to speak to Reese and get to work. Certainly, not enough time to make a stop and drop her off someplace first. Whoever had taken Reese, it wasn’t Langrath.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved in her disappearance. A spike of ice stabbed through him.
And it didn’t mean the man wasn’t somehow connected to Thorne.