Page 159

Fifty-Seven
Maximus
“Why the fuckhaven’t we heard something?”
Gianni leaned against her desk as I paced. The detective, Gayle Joyner, sat at a small workstation with two open laptops and several other tech devices I didn’t recognize. The detective, Gianni informed me, was there to record any incoming calls I might get—and hopefully track them via an app installed on both Cecil and Simone’s cell phones.
The problem was, the phones had to be turnedonin order to be tracked.
From what Joyner had said, neither phones were on. At least one kidnapper had a brain, and I was betting on Cecil because if Simone had any sense, she wouldn’t have done this.
“We’ll hear something when we hear it, Jamie,” Gianni said.
Her level, neutral tone pissed me off, but I bit back the snarl before I could unleash my rage on her. She wasn’t to blame. She was here to help.
“And how long isthatgoing to take?” I demanded, coming to a stop in front of the window, then turning to glare at my sister. “I mean, what the hell? Simone used her credit card at a sporting goods storetwohours ago. But nobody can figure out where the hell she went from there?”
The phone rang—I tensed automatically, grabbing mine from my pocket, only to stop as I realized it was Gianni’s landline, not my cell. Staring at the screen, stubbornly devoid of notifications, I clenched my free hand into an empty fist.
The battery indicator warned me it was low. Swearing, I went to the chair by the window and grabbed the charging cord I’d used earlier for all of fifteen minutes. After it was connected, I checked to make sure the ringer was as loud as possible and all notifications were on. If somebody called, I’d know.
As I worked, I caught bits and pieces of Gianni’s conversation. It faded as I stared at the screen on my phone.
Why the hell didn’tmyfucking phone ring?
Why hadn’t we heard anything?
Simone had to have a reason behind this—just grabbing Tina to…what? My blood ran cold as my imagination filled in the blanks. Guilt turned my gut sour, and bile rushed to my throat. I never thought Simone would do something like this. She was crazy—shehadto be. Sane people didn’t kidnap someone, out of jealousy or whatever was motivating Simone.
I braced a hand on the window, the sun powerful enough to warm the glass despite the triple panes to help ease the swelter of long, hot Texas summers.
We were having another heatwave. If the power grid couldn’t handle all those air conditioners running twenty-four-seven, there’d be rolling blackouts. The thought of Tina without relief from the heat and sun made my head spin.
Would Cecil or Simone be concerned?
“James.”
Swiping a hand down my face, I turned to my sister.
She saw the discouragement on my face and wrapped her arms around me. I grabbed onto her and held tight.
“I will not stop searching for her, Jamie,” she said, her words muffled against my chest.
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say. And thinking about it was too fucking scary.
Despite the knot in my throat, I forced out a question. “Who called?”
“My contact with the police department.” She eased away, studying me closely.
I needed her comfort right now. Gianni was one of my best friends.
“Thanks, Gian. For being here, for being…you.”
I stepped away, heading toward the beverage service on the far wall so I wouldn’t have to see her looking at me. Bad enough Ifeltit.
“Since you have some very real crap to deal with, I’ll refrain from asking if you’re okay. But don’t say shit like that until after we’ve got this taken care of and Tina is safe.” She made a face at me. “You’ll weird me out.”
It felt good to laugh, even if it was strained and sounded like rocks scraping my throat.