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I turned my computer. “All I can see is a car. This young person, a guy I’m thinking, runs toward it. Gets in. Then they all leave. I think that bulge underneath his shirt right there is the kid. What do you think?”
“I think that’s it,” he said. “Any license plate or identifying marks on the car or the perp?”
“No,” I murmured. “Other than this scratch right here.”
I showed it to him.
“Post that in the local social media groups. See if anyone can identify that car. Say it’s in suspicion of being part of the abduction of a three-year-old,” he ordered.
I did as he asked, set an alert for it to notify me if anything relevant was said, then went back to the camera feeds.
I started going through all the possible routes taken to that particular spot and finally hit pay dirt on the frozen yogurt store’s parking lot. A black sedan had entered through their parking lot.
Zooming in on the driver’s face and their license plate, I forwarded the partial shot to the police of Kilgore, then went back to the social media post where nothing relevant was shared. All except for one person.
A full description of the car was shared with a man’s first name.
I sent that to the police, too.
Then closed and exited out of everything because Kobe said we were ten minutes out.
When we arrived at Free, landing right in their backyard, I wasn’t surprised to see a whole slew of people there.
As in, there were so many I had no option but to count.
That was one of my quirks.
I liked to know how many people were in an area.
Large crowds drove me nuts because it was almost a compulsion to count.
That was why I carried a damn clicker around with me to help me do so.
All in all, as we descended, I counted eighty-seven people there.
And none of them were cops.
CHAPTER 3
I have one nerve left, and you’re dry-humping it.
-Kobe to Folsom
KOBE
I loved watching her in action.
Her genius-level IQ may irritate—and scare—the hell out of me, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t the most interesting person to watch while she worked.
From what I understood from what Folsom had told me, as well as what was shared by the other ladies of the MC, Folsom had quite a few degrees.
Her latest one was in veterinary science.
The one degree she didn’t have but probably had the most experience in was hacking-related or computer science.
I hadn’t been able to find anything on her previous life, either when I’d done a thorough background search on her.
She was like a ghost in the world and ended up looking rather innocuous when I took some significant time looking into her.
