Nash
T wenty-seven minutes.
That was how long it had been since a man had shoved Lina into the trunk of his car and driven off.
Grave was running the partial plate number Waylay had memorized. Knox drove Waylay and Liza J home to Naomi.
And I was flying down Tate Dilton’s street as a light, misty rain began to fall. I swung the wheel and came to a screeching halt at the base of his concrete driveway. There was a shiny red bass boat parked on a brand-new trailer in front of the garage.
I didn’t bother closing my door, just barreled up to the front door of the white Cape Cod bathed in blue and red from my lights.
The door swung open before I made it past the hay bales and pumpkins on the front porch. Behind me, tires squealed on the street as another vehicle came to an abrupt stop.
Melissa Dilton, Tate’s pretty blond wife, stood in the doorway, one hand clutching the neck of her blue bathrobe.
She had tear-stained cheeks and a fat lip.
Fuck.
“Where is he, Missy?”
She shook her head, eyes welling with tears. “I don’t know, but I swear I’d tell you if I did.”
I wanted to push my way inside, to search the house from top to bottom, but I knew she wasn’t lying.
Nolan and Lucian climbed the porch steps looking grim. “How long’s he been gone?” I asked her, ignoring them.
“A couple of hours. He packed a bag like he might be gone for a while. I–I saw him take a stack of cash out of the crawlspace access in Sophia’s bedroom.”
“What are you doing, Morgan?” Nolan asked quietly. “Where was he the night I was shot?”
Melissa swallowed hard as twin tears slid down her cheeks. “H-he said he was working.”
“He wasn’t. He called in sick that day.” I’d checked on the way here.
“He said he was working. He didn’t come home until late and I…I could tell he’d been drinking. I asked him about you. I heard about the shooting from my parents. I asked him if you were gonna be okay and he…” She looked down at her bare feet in shame. “He hit me,” she whispered.
I heard Lucian swear darkly behind me.
“It’s okay, Melissa. You’re not in trouble here. But I need to find Tate.”
She looked at me with tears swimming in her eyes. “I don’t know where he is. I’m sorry, Nash.”
“Not your fault,” I told her. “None of this is your fault. But I need you to get the kids and go to your parents’ house tonight. I need you to stay there until I say it’s safe to come home. Understand?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
“Go wake up the kids. Tell them they’re having a sleepover with Grandma and Grandpa. Lucian will drive you. I’ll have officers watch your parents’ house.”
“It’s all over, isn’t it?” she whispered. “It will be tonight,” I vowed.
She squared her shoulders and nodded. And for the first time, I saw a spark of determination in her pretty green eyes. “Good luck, Nash.”
I turned and hooked a thumb over my shoulder. Lucian nodded and followed Melissa inside.
“Wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?” Nolan demanded as he followed me off the porch.
“Hugo didn’t pull the trigger. Dilton did,” I said, sliding behind the wheel of my SUV. “Ouch! Damn it.” I’d forgotten about my new ass art until now.
Swearing, Nolan jogged around the hood and got in on the passenger side. “What does that mean?”
“It means either Dilton did this on his own or he’s mixed up with Hugo.
Either way, he’s going down.”
I threw the vehicle into drive and made a U-turn, the headlights cutting through the misty layer of fog.
“Where to next?” Nolan asked. “The station.”
 |
“We’re coordinating with the state police and setting up traffic
stops here, here, and here,” Officer Bannerjee said, pointing at the map as we walked into the station. It looked like every first responder in Knockemout was already here. “All units have been advised to be on the lookout for Lina Solavita, the unsub, and a tan 2020 Ford Fusion.”
Lina was out there somewhere, in the dark, in the cold. And I wasn’t going to fucking rest until I found her.
I opened the folder on Grave’s desk and snatched the first piece of paper out of it, then headed up to the board. Tashi stepped aside as I stuck Tate Dilton’s photo next to Lina’s.
A round of whispers rolled through the crowd.
“All officers will be on the lookout for Tate Dilton, former police officer. He’s wanted for attempted murder of a law enforcement officer, domestic violence, and assault. Anyone with information on Dilton’s whereabouts needs to talk to me.”
I didn’t wait for questions. I headed straight for the armory. Nolan was still on my heels.
“What’s the plan?” he asked me when I handed him a shotgun.
“We knock on the doors of every one of Dilton’s fucking friends until we find someone who knows where the hell he is. We find him, we’ll find
Lina.”
“What about Hugo?”
I shook my head and threw two magazines and a couple boxes of bullets into a duffel bag. “Don’t know if he’s part of this or if it was all Dilton from the start. But my gut says they’re in this shit together.”
Nolan calmly loaded the shotgun and threw another box of bullets into a bag. “Think she’s made them regret it yet?” he asked.
My lips quirked as I tossed two more boxes of ammo inside. “I guaran- damn-tee it.”
“Ball retrieval surgeries are gonna be at an all-time high in this state after tonight,” he predicted.
I zipped the bag shut and looked at him. “You don’t have to come,” I told him.
“Fuck off.”
“I’m not doing this by the book. I’m not going to follow fucking protocol. I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back.”
“Then lead the way.”
We cut through the bullpen and almost made it to the door when it opened. Wylie Ogden entered wearing one of the department’s old rain slickers.
“Nash. I mean, Chief,” he said. He looked older than I’d ever seen him. His face was drawn and pale. “I just talked to Melissa and she told me what’s goin’ on.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know. Had no idea. We were friends, but… I guess you never really know anyone. It ain’t right. What he did to you, to his wife.”
“No, it’s not,” I said stonily.
“I’m here to lend a hand wherever I can,” he said. “Make things right.” “See Bannerjee for an assignment,” I said, then stepped around him and
headed for the parking lot.
I opened the hatch of the SUV, and while Nolan tossed the bags inside, I loaded a second shotgun, then strapped two full clips to my belt.
My phone rang.
Lucian.
“Any problems getting Melissa and the kids to her parents?” I asked. “No. They’re safe and there’s a patrol car already in the driveway. But I
thought you should know KingSchlong85 just logged in to Dragon
Dungeon Quest,” Lucian said. “My team is running a trace on the IP address. They’ve narrowed it down to within five miles of here.”
Fuck. If Duncan Hugo was close, that couldn’t be a coincidence.
I chambered a round in my Glock and holstered it. “Let me know when you find him.”
“If we find him this way, it won’t hold up in court,” Lucian warned.
“I don’t care. I’m not building a case. I’m settling a fucking score. Find him,” I ordered.
