"Yeah?" he called out when I knocked.
I opened the door slightly and stuck my head in. "Sir."
"Good. Come in and close the door."
I felt as though I was in trouble or some shit as I closed the door behind me. Frank had never called me to his headquarters before, but I wasn't scared, or nervous he would kill me. This didn't feel like that type of call. But then I never knew what Frank was going to do. Should I have said goodbye to Erin?
"I need your help," he stated as he leaned back in his leather chair.
"With what, sir?"
"My wife is missing." I blinked as I stared at him. He had police officers on his payroll, and he needed my help? What was I supposed to do? "I need you to find her."
"How would I do that?"
"Aren't you trained to find and rescue people?"
"I—Yes—"
"Exactly. Find my wife," Frank ordered, throwing a photo in front of me.
I picked up the picture. She was a beautiful brunette, and I wondered how she had gotten mixed up with Frank and married him.
"I need more information." I had no clue how I was going to find his wife. For the past ten years, I'd been a bodyguard, not a private investigator or a SEAL getting intel.
"All I know is she left my building alone, and no one has seen her in two days."
Quinn Russo could be anywhere. Had she somehow found a way out from under Frank and his ways? I didn't know how their home life was, but I still remembered the day Frankie had been in the limo when Frank had murdered a guy who'd tried to kill him. I didn't know if Frankie was necessarily following in his father's footsteps, but he had come to a whorehouse and taken the virginity of a seventeen-year-old girl. Did Quinn know and had finally had enough? Or did someone take her to try to get to Frank?
I'd never heard who had tried to kill Frank outside of Lock that one night. Had Ivan found the guy? Had they decided to go after Frank's family? It had been several years. Maybe it had been another one of his enemies.
"She left, or she was taken?" I questioned.
He blew out a puff of the cigar he was smoking. "My door guy says she got into a taxi alone. She took no credit cards. She didn't take her phone, she didn't take her medication, and she didn't leave a note. Usually when she goes somewhere, she takes one of my drivers like Frankie does."
"I hate to ask this, sir, but do you think she left you?"
"Without any money? I doubt it."
I nodded slowly as I thought about what he was telling me. If Quinn had left him, and she didn't want to be found, I didn't want to find her. Everyone was better getting out, and I was on the verge of finally doing it myself.
"I'll see if I can find her." I stood, ready to leave. "But it's been two days, and I'm trained to find people based on military intel."
"I understand. You're the only one I can trust with this right now."
I didn't know why that was. He had cops he paid. Surely, they could find her. "I'll try my best."
"Great. I want an update hourly."
"Yes, sir."
* * *
Before I left the warehouse, Frank called his doorman to inform him that I would be stopping by, but I didn't need to go to Frank's apartment. I wasn't a detective. If a woman left on her own without her cell phone or credit cards, she didn't want to be found—unless she had been kidnapped. Obviously, Quinn wasn't at the warehouse, so it wasn't Frank's guys. I supposed she could be in the hospital, so I made a mental note that if I didn't find anything out by tracking the taxi, I would check.
Walking toward Frank's building, a thought occurred to me. A guy I had served with in Somalia had started a security firm since leaving the Navy. I pulled out my phone to send a message to Jackson Cole on social media but then thought better of it. I didn't want to bring him into this world—this life. The last I’d seen online, he was married with two daughters, and he was obviously doing well for himself. He had told me when I was shot that he owed me, but this wasn't the favor I wanted to ask his help with.
The doorman opened the door for me, but I didn't enter. "Frank Russo called—"
