Page 16 of Girl Lost (The King Legacy #1)

CORBIN TRACED HIS THUMB around the rim of the whiskey glass and stared into the golden liquid. Answers weren’t at the bottom , but he searched there anyway.

His office was a mess. Stacks of files teetered precariously on his desk, evidence photos scattered across the corkboard, and empty coffee cups littered every surface.

The only source of light was the desk lamp, casting long shadows across the room, making the space feel even smaller and more cluttered than usual.

This whole day had been a catastrophe. It wouldn’t surprise him if he lost his job over it. His boss already had it out for him, and today ... well, today was nothing but utter disaster.

He picked up the whiskey glass and swirled the liquid. Breathed in the woody scent and set it back down without taking a sip. He wanted the drink with an intensity that burned deep down. But he wouldn’t drink it.

Self-control. He still had that.

He also had two people who’d disappeared in their hometown without a trace. His responsibility. Their lives, their families, their futures ... all depending on him. And he was failing them.

His cell phone vibrated. Blade. “Hey, man.”

“I wanted to update you on Abercorn,” Blade said. “Got your new partner with you?”

Luna, he meant. “Not yet.” The clock on the wall said she was almost fifteen minutes late. Or she’d decided not to come at all. “What’s up?”

“Abercorn’s alibi checked out. He was at work when Stryker was kidnapped.

His boss confirmed they spent the morning on the grass trimmer at the hospital.

Surveillance footage proved it. Me and Villanueva went at him hard, every which way, and the dude still swears he hadn’t been cooking meth and hadn’t rigged his house with the APD. ”

Anti-personnel device. The booby trap designed to take out anyone who tried to enter the house, with the bonus of destroying evidence. It was kind of genius. The accelerant ignited with a spark from the socket. “You believe him?”

“Jury’s still out for me. I doubt he’s smart enough to pull it off. I checked his arrests, and not one methamphetamine. Oxy is his drug of choice.” Blade sighed. “He swears someone is setting him up to go down for manufacturing and trafficking.”

“He’s saying someone broke into his house and did this?”

“We’re canvasing the neighborhood, pulling doorbell cams, all the usual. We’ll see if a witness can corroborate his story. But there’s more to bolster his claims,” Blade said. “The lab found traces of a unique accelerant in the house. It’s serious stuff. I’m texting you now.”

“Bury the lead, why don’t ya.” He studied the chemical breakdown on his screen and exhaled.

Diethyl ether. Extremely volatile. Extremely flammable.

One spark. That’s all it took. If it hadn’t been the light switch, static electricity alone could’ve done it.

That house had been a powder keg waiting to blow.

And someone had made sure it did.

“This stuff is serious firepower,” he said. “What’s it used for?”

Corbin could hear Blade shuffle papers. “Historically it was used as a general anesthetic until the sixties. It’s been phased out because safer alternatives exist, but it’s still regulated.

Now it’s primarily used as a solvent in chemistry and pharmaceutical labs and as a fuel additive.

DEA keeps tabs on large purchases because it’s a key ingredient in methamphetamine production. ”

“Abercorn’s a landscaper, right? How would a guy like that even get his hands on diethyl ether? Don’t you need some kind of license?”

“Exactly. Not something you can pick up at your local hardware store or garden center. You need proper credentials and established relationships with chemical suppliers, usually scientific or medical. We checked his background, and there’s nothing that would give him legitimate access.

Whoever sourced this either has connections or knows someone who does. ”

“So why would Abercorn torch his own house? It doesn’t add up.” Corbin hated the uneasy feeling crawling up his spine.

“That’s what I’m saying. If he did this, he had help. But more likely, someone else did this to get rid of him.”

“But who goes through that much trouble?”

“Someone trying to get rid of the man who bought the Tasers.” Blade paused. “Or someone trying to send the police a message.”

“What message? Stay away or get barbecued?” He glanced at the clock: 7:21 p.m. Luna still hadn’t showed up.

Maybe she was sending a message. That he was on his own to find Carlie.

At least Blade had his back on the kidnapping case.

“So, whoever kidnapped Stryker set Abercorn up after he sold them the Tasers?”

“That’s our theory. We traced the AFIDs right after the kidnapping and they led us straight to Abercorn’s door.

If we’d shown up an hour later, he might’ve tripped that trap and been killed.

Hard to question a dead man.” Blade hesitated a beat.

“Think about it. The timing, the elaborate setup ... it screams professional job. And professionals don’t work for free.

Abercorn is scraping by, which means someone else is bankrolling this. ”

Abercorn was a small-time criminal with a pain pill problem, not a mastermind.

Not someone with access to sophisticated chemicals.

Not someone who’d destroy his own property as an elaborate cover-up.

This was big. They were dealing with a complicated operation, one with resources and planning that went far beyond what he’d initially thought.

New leads should have his blood pumping. Instead, his chest felt weighted with lead. The image of Luna’s face, frozen in terror as flames danced around her legs, flashed before his eyes. He’d put her in danger. Put them all in danger. And now, time was slipping through his fingers.

Maybe Luna’s undercover world had followed her back to Millie Beach. Maybe this wasn’t just about Stryker. Maybe it was about her too.

“Hey, Corb? Still there?” Blade cut through his spiraling thoughts.

“Yeah. Just thinking.” He swirled the glass of whiskey and set it down, watching the liquid tornado dissipate. “I should’ve taken more time to set up a full operation. Pulled in extra manpower. Pushed for tactical.”

“And what? Let Stryker’s trail go cold? We worked with the information we had.”

Corbin’s fingers drummed against his desk. “Maybe. But Luna ... I shouldn’t have let her come. The fire could’ve killed her.”

“Ah, there it is. I was wondering when we’d get to the real issue.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on. I’ve known you too long. This isn’t just about the case. It’s about her.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips. Who was he kidding? Of course it was about Luna. It had always been about Luna.

Unbidden, a memory surfaced. Luna, fifteen and fierce.

Her dark hair wild in the summer breeze.

They were on the beach. Her laughter rang out, pure and unguarded, as he chased her through the surf.

He’d caught her then, pulled her close, their laughter dying as their lips met for the first time. Sweet. Innocent. A promise of forever.

“I loved her, B ... I loved her, and I messed it up.” He took a slow, measured breath. “She was fire, and I was ... well, I was trying not to be gasoline. She challenged me. Pushed me to be better. And for a while ... I was.”

Blade sighed. “We were kids. Dumb kids. We all made mistakes.”

“Yeah, but my mistakes cost us everything. Our relationship, our...” He trailed off, unable to say it. Their child. The one they’d given up, the decision that had torn them apart.

The confession felt like ripping open an old wound. He closed his eyes, afraid of what Pandora’s box he’d just opened in front of his friend.

“Have you talked to her? Really talked, I mean?”

Corbin snorted. “Yeah, right. She can barely look at me without wanting to bolt.”

“Can you blame her? You both went through something traumatic. And instead of facing it together, you pushed her away.”

The truth of Blade’s words stung, but he couldn’t deny them.

He’d been terrified, overwhelmed by the idea of becoming a husband and father.

Afraid he’d become just like his own dad one day.

So he’d done what he thought was best. Stepped back.

Told Luna he loved her but they weren’t ready—he wasn’t ready to marry her and start a family.

He’d thought he was being mature by breaking up with her and agreeing to terminate his parental rights.

By keeping his distance during the pregnancy so they wouldn’t get attached to a child they wouldn’t raise.

Back then it seemed responsible even. But all he’d done was drive her away forever.

“I tried to apologize.” The words sounded hollow even to his own ears. “After the fire. She just ... walked away.”

“Look, what I know about women wouldn’t fill a thimble, but I do know one apology isn’t going to fix years of hurt. You need to give her time. And space.”

“But how am I supposed to do that when, thanks to her, we’re stuck as partners? When every time I see her, all I want to do is...” How could he articulate the mess of emotions Luna stirred in him?

“Is what? Make things right? Or pick up where you left off?” He pictured Blade’s penetrating gaze, seeing right through him, as always.

He ran a hand over his face, suddenly feeling every one of his years. “I don’t know. I just ... I don’t know.”

“Well, figure it out.” There was a scratching noise and muffled words like Blade had covered his phone. “I gotta go. Your contact came through with info on DeLuca. I’ll catch you up after we talk.”

“Thanks.” Corbin disconnected and dropped his phone on his desk. He’d almost forgotten about DeLuca, because, if he were honest, he couldn’t see anything coming from it. There was ongoing surveillance that clocked the man’s every move.