Page 140 of Missile Strike

Enough? Isabella couldn’t think.

Her arms and legs grew numb. She stumbled, bouncing off the arm of the sofa before hitting the floor.

“Don’t hurt Trip.” The words slurred.

“I won’t. I’ll take care of him, I promise.”

Isabella’s face rested against the carpet. She reached up for…something. Anything.

Missed.

Danny.

A tear slid down her cheek.

I didn’t tell you—

The world went dark.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Danny paced his hotel room, phone to his ear. The interview at the Phoenix police station had taken longer than he’d expected, and now it was late, middle of the night, East Coast time. Bella wasn’t answering.

Not his calls. Or texts.

She kept her phone by her bed. It wasn’t like her not to pick up.

The location app on her phone showed her home address.

He’d checked her security cameras. Talia had picked Bella up for their evening out and brought her home afterward. They’d gone in through the garage. Twenty minutes later, Talia had backed her car out, waved goodbye, and driven away as the garage door closed.

It had looked perfectly ordinary.

It’s late. Bella’s asleep.

His hand fell to his side, the phone still clutched in his grip.

Still, dread was an oily residue that clung to his skin.

“Jesus, Danny, get your shit together.” He shoved fingers through his hair. “She’s probably asleep, or her phone died.”

Just because he’d had a shitty day didn’t mean he needed to assume the worst.

And yet he couldn’t shake it.

He cracked open a bottle of water, wishing it was a beer instead.

Three days without her, and he was a total wreck.

Damn, he had it bad.

His phone rang. 704. Charlotte area code.

Not Bella’s number, but who else would call him at this hour? “Hello?”

“Mr. Mayhew, this is Detective Warren from the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Homicide Unit.”

Danny’s body iced.