Page 81 of Four Cards Exposed

The voice that answered was out of breath. James could hear the treadmill under her feet. “Vasquez.”

“I need your help, Lorraine,” he said simply.

The treadmill sound stopped immediately. “I thought you’d be on your way to Sharp’s Cove by now.”

“Susan is missing.”

“What do you mean … missing?” James could almost hear the wheels turning in his partner’s mind as she thought through the implications of what he’d said.

“She was last seen just before midnight, heading home. Her door was found ajar this morning.”

“Where are you?”

“Less than an hour away,” he said. Speaking to Lorraine helped. This was what they did—the two of them. He started the ignition and made his way back onto the road.

“Are you okay to drive?” Lorraine asked quietly. There was no sense in pretending this was a normal case.

“I’m okay.”

“There’s a chance … there’s a chance this is related to Ernesto Mendoza.”

James swallowed bile. If this was related to Ernesto Mendoza, that meant they had brought this danger to Susan’s doorstep. It meant James should never have left her alone.

And if not … who was responsible for this? Who could have taken Susan? Sharp’s Cove was a quiet seaside town. They’d had one serial killer in the town’s history, but he’d been caught—he’d died. This couldn’t be about Stephen Ford.

“I need to get her back.”

“We need to get her back,” his partner corrected. “Let me make some calls, James. Call me as soon as you get there.”

“Thank you, Lorraine.”

James drove more slowly than usual, still not fully trusting himself. He drove into Sharp’s Cove and up Main Street, past a couple of coffee shops, several shiny storefronts selling clothes and housewares and various knickknacks … anything a tourist could want. It was a town exactly like so many towns he and Lorraine had visited in the last few years—and yet, it was also completely different, because it was where Susan lived.

The first time he’d seen Susan, it was like he’d been struck by lightning. But Susan was too good for someone like him. He was meant to be alone. He couldn’t let his darkness taint her.

He’d done his best to appear indifferent, even when everything inside him screamed at him to get close to her. He’d had a lot of practice. Indifferent was almost his middle name. He was a better agent, a better investigator, when he remained distant.

He was reaching the end of Main Street when he realized he had no idea where Susan lived. He’d never been to her place before. A message arrived on his phone and he pounced on it, in case it was from Susan, but it was a message from Natalie, with an address.

Two minutes later, he was parked in front of Susan’s place. The house had been broken up into apartments.

He knew immediately which one was Susan’s—the one on the ground floor, with the colorful flowers hanging out of the window. He remembered her telling him how much she loved flowers. But not cut flowers. Susan liked plants. She liked life.

Pain knifed through his heart as he walked up the porch steps, but he steeled himself against it, forcing a neutral expression on his face.

There were two flats on the ground floor. The door to the left one was open. James approached, holding onto the door frame with both hands. This wasn’t how he’d ever imagined seeing Susan’s apartment for the first time.

Stop feeling fucking sorry for yourself.

This isn’t about you.

The wood creaked under his fingers.

“James. James, come in,” a deep voice said. James stared straight into Darryl Berner’s warm brown eyes, which today were laced with concern.

“What are you doing here? This isn’t a fire.”

Darryl crossed his massive arms over his chest. “We’re all here. We’re all going to be here as long as we need to. Until we find her.”