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SIXTY-NINE

I’m still deciding what to do next when Ronnie’s phone rings and makes the decision for us.

Ronnie answers, “What do you mean he’s gone?” She puts the call on speaker.

“Uncle Vinnie. He said he was going for a walk to clear his head and he never came back. Dad is furious. I’m sorry but I can’t keep an eye on them both.”

“No one blames you, Rebecca. Do you have any idea where Vinnie might be going?” Ronnie asks.

I butt in. “How long has Vinnie been gone?”

“He went for the walk as soon as the two of you left to look for Duke.”

Ronnie asks, “Do you have a phone number for him?”

Her silence is the answer.

Well, crap! “We just left the apartment over the Mom & Pop store but no one has been there.” So he distracted us while he disappeared. Suddenly, I have a hunch I know what’s happened. Vinnie thinks he can find Victoria all by himself, and for whatever reason, he doesn’t want us getting in the way.

Ronnie asks, “Is Dad still there?”

“Let me check.” The call is silent for several minutes then she comes back. “He’s not in the house. I’m going to check around the property.”

I ask, “Is his car there?”

The line is silent again, then Rebecca says, “Oh crap. His car is gone and I looked in his office. The bag of money is gone too. Can you come and get me? Or meet me somewhere?”

Vinnie’s gone, Jack’s gone, the money’s gone. Great. This is all looking wonderful.

I understand Rebecca’s need to do something. But it will cause us to lose time. “Hang on, Rebecca.” I put her on mute and ask Ronnie, “By any chance did you put your dad’s phone on your locator app? According to Rebecca, he’s been gone at least thirty minutes.”

Ronnie fires up her iPad and pulls up the program. “He’s heading toward the resort. Why would he leave without telling us?”

I can think of several reasons. The most likely of which is he’s gotten a call from the kidnappers and is on his way to drop the money off.

“Ronnie, you keep an eye on Jack and I’ll drive.” I drive faster.

“You’re going the right way, Megan. He’s stopped. We’ll come across him in about fifteen minutes.”

I step on it and trust that a policeman won’t stop a marked police car.

Ten minutes later she says, “He’s just up ahead.”

“I’m going to call him.” She starts to call him, stops, punches a few numbers and then cancels. It’s her choice but if it was mine, I wouldn’t call. At least not until we get closer. He’s either okay or he’s not. If he’s not okay, he may not be able to call for help. If he is okay, he will be too embarrassed to call us. Strike that. I can’t imagine that man being embarrassed. We can’t get there any faster. I’m already pushing a hundred miles an hour. Any more and we’ll lift off. Neither of us suggests calling Lucas.

Agonizing minutes later Ronnie points through the windshield. “There he is.”

I slow down. I don’t see anyone in the driver’s seat. I drive across the road and off on the shoulder facing Jack’s car. A head pops up and a pale, frightened face looks at us.

Ronnie and I get out but Jack remains seated, both hands gripping the steering wheel, head on a swivel.

We approach and I motion for Jack to roll his window down, but then I see glass on the ground beside the driver’s window.