Page 100 of Duty Unbound
“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” I said, already pulling out my phone again.
The text I’d sent earlier still did not show as delivered. Strange. I tried calling her number, but it went straight to voice mail. Mel always answered her phone—the woman practically slept with it under her pillow, given how often Nova needed something.
Alarm bells started ringing in my head. This wasn’t like Mel at all.
“Excuse me,” I said to Nova, already moving toward the door. “I need to check something.”
I hit the radio as soon as I was out of earshot. I strode down the hallway. “Jace, meet me in the security room. Now.”
“On my way, boss,” came the immediate reply.
By the time I reached our command center, Jace was already there, fingers flying over his keyboard.
“What’s up?” he asked without looking away from his screens.
“Need you to run a trace on Mel’s car and phone,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “She went for coffee over an hour ago and hasn’t returned. Not answering calls or texts.”
Jace’s head snapped up. “Is everything okay?”
“Probably nothing,” I said, not believing my own damn words for a second. “She’s just taking longer than expected.”
“On it.” He turned back to his computer, typing rapidly. After a moment, he pointed to one of the monitors. “Got it. GPS tracker shows car and phone are both in the parking lot at Moonbean Coffee on Sandgate. Hasn’t moved in—” he checked the time stamps “—forty-seven minutes.”
That wasn’t right. Even if there had been a line out the door, she should’ve been on her way back by now.
“I’m going to take Logan and head over there.” I was already moving toward the door. “Complete lockdown here until you hear from me.”
Five minutes later, we were in the SUV, Logan driving while I rode shotgun. The coffee shop was only ten minutes away, but it felt like hours. Every second that passed increased the knot of tension in my chest.
“Maybe her car broke down,” Logan suggested. “Maybe she ran into someone she knows.”
“Maybe,” I agreed, though neither of us believed it for a second. Coincidences like that didn’t happen in our line of work.
Logan caught my eye briefly. He knew me better than almost anyone. He could read the concern I was trying to hide.
“We’ll find her,” he said simply, his hands steady on the wheel.
We pulled into the coffee shop parking lot and spotted Mel’s silver Audi immediately. It was parked near the back.
Mel wasn’t in it.
Donning gloves, praying that was overkill, I took the driver’s side while Logan went to the passenger door. There were two coffee cups still in the holders—both full and warm. Mel’s phone sat on the passenger seat, screen dark, next to a bag with amuffin, untouched. And on the floor beneath it, something that made my blood run cold.
“Look,” I said, pointing down to the floor.
Rose petals. Deep red, scattered across the mat like drops of blood.
“I don’t like this,” Logan muttered.
Neither did I. There was no sign of a struggle, no blood, nothing obviously out of place except those rose petals and Mel’s abandoned phone.
“No signs of forced entry. No broken glass,” Logan continued.
“Which means either she opened the door willingly for someone or…” I didn’t finish the thought. None of the alternatives were good, and Logan was probably already running them in his own mind.
“I’m going to go inside and see what I can find out.”
I nodded at Logan as I studied those rose petals, one having landed on the steering wheel. Was this an echo back to the dead roses sent to Nova that brought Citadel to the case in the first place?
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