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I’m not sure how long I sat there as the sound of sirens blared in the distance, agonizing over feeling useless, sure I was too late. Wondering how in the hell to find her. I tried to find a way to pray, but the words were lost as I’d forgotten who God was long ago and I was sure he’d forgotten about me, too.
Realizing it was stupid to just sit there, I moved to stand, my gaze falling on her small trash can. It was literally the only item in the room not upturned. Something about that struck me as odd. I picked it up and found several wads of paper, two of them obviously having been straightened and re-wadded. I opened them and scanned the contents.
Information on wills, probate, and executors.
A trip itinerary to Charlotte, North Carolina, complete with car rental, hotel, another random street address handwritten in the margin, and a one-way flight out of New Orleans leaving—now.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
Charlotte.
Not a person, a place. They’d seen this, too, and knew where she was going.
A one-way ticket.
“Faith, baby, what are you doing?”
I dropped my head back and stared at the ceiling as I realized Guidry wouldn’t be talking to Pittman about enlisting my help. He was going after her himself.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I growled.
I had two options—go to the cops or beat them to her and protect her myself.
Back on her front landing, I closed and locked the door behind me, stopping short at the glow in the distance. Over the trees, a house fire a few blocks away was struggling against the water, fighting to survive. A house all alone on a street that I knew well.
The old McMasters house.
I frowned, a thousand questions roaring through my head as my heart crammed into my throat. There were no coincidences. They were trying to scare her.
I bolted for the stairs as my only option crystallized in my mind.
Find her.
Now.
