Page 59 of Straight Shooter

“She’s inside. What’s up?”

“Get her. It’s important.”

“All right,” Brock said, unease lacing his voice. “One minute.” He heard a door opening. “It’s Rhett. He says it’s important.”

“Hi, Rhett. How’s it going?” Her cheery voice held a tinge of hesitancy.

“Don’t freak out, but it’s about Peyton. I’ll tell you what’s going on, but first I need to know something.”

“What?” The word came out rapidly.

“Does Peyton have a sister named Erica?”

A beat passed. “A sister? No. Peyton’s an only child.”

He rubbed the tip of his thumb between his eyebrows. “Are you sure? I need you to think really hard. What about a foster sister? Someone she spent time with at the beach.”

“Rhett, I’m telling you, I’ve never heard her use that name before. There must be some kind of confusion. Tell me what this is about and maybe I’ll be more help.”

He sighed and stared at a crack in the driveway. A weed spurted through. “She’s missing. One of Moretti’s men has her.”

“Oh my god!”

Her sob ripped at his heart. “I’ll find her.” The promise evaporated the crushing weight of doubt building inside him. He’d find her or kill himself trying.

More tears and what sounded like confused comforting from Brock sounded through the earpiece. “I don’t understand. Why would her having a sister mean anything?” Dani asked hoarsely.

“I asked her for a clue and she said, ‘If anything happens to me, tell my sister Erica I love her and I’ll always remember our days at the beach.’”

“It’s some kind of code.”

Rhett’s gaze landed on the street where, minutes before, Eric had left with Moretti and another officer in one of the cop cruisers. “Jesus. She’s talking about Eric. Eric’s in on this.” He dragged his hand over his sun-scorched scalp. “Fuck!” Not even an hour before he’d let the slimy bastard slip through his hands. Goddammit to hell and back.

“Who’s Eric?”

“I’ll call you back.” He disconnected and felt a sharp twang of guilt for cutting Dani off, but he had to move quick.

“Mandy, get in the car,” he bellowed. She tossed him the keys and he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Do you have a lead?”

“Yeah. Peyton gave me a hint about Eric.” He quickly recapped Peyton’s cryptic message. “I need you to find out if he owns any property on the beach.”

Mandy scrunched her face. “Eric rents an apartment.”

He turned the key in the ignition and shoved the shift into drive. “Just look into it, okay?” He had to drive, had to keep moving. Even if it meant going in fucking circles.

“All right, I’ll call Tommy.”

“Have him be discreet.”

Mandy got on the phone and gave Tommy instructions. A few minutes later, the phone pressed to her ear, she shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Give me the phone,” he growled. There was no chance this was some mistake. Peyton had reason to believe Eric owned the property Beanie held her at, and dammit, he’d find out why.

“Check into his family, ex-wife, don’t leave a stone unturned,” he said to Tommy. “Understand?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll need some time⁠—”