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“Got it, Sheriff,” the woman confirmed.
“Could this be a ransom situation?” I asked Ben.
“If this is Fontana, or has anything to do with that motherfucker, then no. I doubt this is about money.”
Frustrated, I raked my fingers through my hair. “Who the fuck is Fontana?” I bellowed. Lexa had mentioned him earlier but hadn’t told me who the hell he was.
“Gian Fontana’s father gave Lexa her scar,” Raven told me, her voice ice-cold. “A few years back, Gian’s adoptive father tried to take Lexa and give her to him. Before his untimely and oh-so-tragic death that night, Santino was the top sex trafficker in the US.” She inhaled sharply, her olive-green eyes full of steel when they met mine. “We assume Gian inherited all of that as Santino’s adopted son, but he went silent. There has been very little noise from his compound, and he’s rarely even been seen.”
“Lexa said Monroe told her she’s in love with this guy,” I told her.
“She told me that too when she called me,” she confirmed. “Apparently, from what Monroe told Lexa, Gian has been protecting Mon for years.”
“Protecting her, how?” I demanded, not understanding what the hell she was talking about.
She sighed heavily and opened the door. “That doesn’t matter,” she said as she started walking down the hall toward the front of the café. I followed, and she kept talking. “I don’t think Fontana is behind taking them. If what Lexa said is true, he never would have held a gun to Monroe. And I doubt he would let anyone else do so either.”
Outside, Masterson and the other MC brothers quickly gathered around us. Dad stayed to the back of the group, but he met my gaze over the heads of some of the brothers, telling me with a look that he was there if I needed him.
“I think we’re dealing with one of Fontana’s enemies,” Raven told them, causing Masterson to curse viciously. “If that’s the case, they are going to go as far north as they can to stay out of his territory.”
“Yeah, but they could head east too,” Ben spoke up. “If we’re going to go after them, I suggest spitting up.”
“I’m going north,” Masterson said.
Bash split the MC brothers into two groups, but when Masterson got on his motorcycle and took off before anyone else had even moved, I jumped in the driver’s seat of Dad’s SUV. Dad barely got in before I was peeling out of the parking lot after him.
“Calm down,” Dad ordered. “You’re not going to be any use to that girl if you kill yourself on the drive to get to her.”
“Fuck, Dad!” I hit the steering wheel with the palm of my hand. “I think I’m going to lose my mind.”
His heavy hand fell on my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, son. We’ll find her.”
“If anything happens to her or the babies…” I blinked back the sting of tears, refusing to let them slow me down.
“I know, Lyric. Believe me, I know. Just stay calm. We’ll get to them.”
We drove and drove for hours, but the guys in the sedan already had a good three hours on us. They could have been anywhere with that much time between us, and we didn’t even know where to look.
Two and a half hours into the drive, Dad’s phone rang. The SUV was a rental, and the phone wasn’t connected to the Bluetooth, so he hit the speaker option when he answered. “Yeah?”
“It’s Ben.” The sheriff’s voice filled the vehicle. “Oregon State Police found the car.”
“Where?” I demanded.
He gave the location, and I realized we were only about half an hour from where the sedan had been spotted. “The car was easy to find because the fucking thing was on fire,” Ben continued, and I swerved as images of Mila in a burning car stole the air from my chest. “No one was inside. My guess is they switched vehicles. OSP is calling in all their off-duty officers and starting a statewide manhunt. I am about an hour behind you right now.”
After we hung up, I quickly passed Masterson on the road and hauled ass to where Ben said the car had been left. Masterson must have realized I knew where I was going because he didn’t try to pass me, and instead followed me to where a fire truck was still parked.
The sedan was just a melted frame. Four state police cars were parked around the crime scene. Throwing the SUV into park, I jumped out and rushed toward the first police officer I spotted.
The man held up his hands as I approached. “This is a crime scene,” he barked.
“My fiancée is one of the two women missing,” I told him. “Tell me everything you know.”
“I can’t give you details of an open investigation,” he said coldly.
Dad was already behind me, his phone out. Seconds later, he thrust the phone into the officer’s hands, and I assumed it was Ben on the other end.
