“Sorry. What happened?” asked John, reverting to his best behavior.
Quinn went through the story one more time while Trent paced back and forth in Quinn’s home office. He was losing the battle against his tiger. It felt like he could fully transform at any time. His nails elongated into claws and his upper arms sprouted with fur.
“Maybe I should just go to
the police,” Trent said, impatient. “I also have a friend in the FBI and he could put a trace on my phone.”
“Hey! We’re almost done,” said Vanessa from behind the screen. “Just give us a few more minutes. Hacking into your phone provider isn’t easy, you know?”
“Be patient, Trent,” said Quinn.
He couldn’t. He shouldn’t have let her go out alone. He should have followed her from a distance. If he did that, none of this would have happened.
“Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt her?” Quinn asked Trent. “Did she have any enemies? Someone who has a grudge against her?”
“I don’t think so. She rarely talks about her cases. Besides, she isn’t practicing anymore. She works behind the scenes.”
“What about that guy she served? Frank Darbo. Remember, the night you saved her from the chimney?” asked John.
“What about it? She told me her boss is going to settle case. You think he might do something like this?”
John wrinkled his nose. “Darbo is a scumbag. It’s common knowledge in our circle.”
“Then we should check his place. Do you know where he lives?” asked Trent, antsy.
“Calm down.” Quinn clamped his hand on Trent’s shoulder. “Nobody leaves until I say so. Especially you, Trent. In times like this, you need to keep your cool.”
Trent growled unhappily. The Alpha’s order was absolute.
“We got it!” shouted Vanessa from behind the screen.
They all rushed to look her at findings. Trent scanned the computer screen, trying to visualize the location on the map where Arielle had made her phone call. He didn’t think Arielle had walked that far. She had meandered more than five avenues.
Quinn read the street address and told Vanessa to jot it down.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go,” said Trent.
“Wait,” Quinn halted him. “Even if we get there, can you get a lock on her scent?”
“I’ll try.”
“Hold on,” John stopped them this time. He tapped an area on the map near the pay phone. “I know this area. It’s in the Bowery. Darbo has a club down there. After Dark. Don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence? That she got picked up near Darbo’s hangout?”
“At this point, we don’t know who took her. It’s too bad that she didn’t have her phone with her. I suggest that we check that pay phone first, then we go to the club. If we don’t succeed in locating her, we’ll go to the police. I have some private investigators on payroll, and we can use them too. We’ll comb through her contacts, her co-workers, her past clients, to get our bearing. And we’ll do this calmly and efficiently,” said Quinn. He then turned to Trent, adding, “Exercise caution. This is New York, not Aspen. Plenty of people will see you if you can’t control your beast.”
Trent didn’t comment. He couldn’t make that promise. His patience was wearing thin and his tiger could slip out at any time.
Quinn caught his eyes and snorted. “I don’t trust him. We should bring a collar and leash with us.”
“For what?” Trent was scandalized. “I’m not a dog.”
“Can’t have you roaming the streets of Manhattan as a tiger. It would be different if you were on a leash and someone pretended to take you out for a walk. We’ll get a fine,
but it’s less dangerous than the prospect of people thinking you’re a loose exotic pet.”
Vanessa jumped from her seat, flailing her arms excitedly. “Ooh. Can I be the one to walk Trent? You and John are public figures; you’ll cause a scandal if the media caught you doing something like this. But no one will care if it’s me.”
Trent shook his head. “No one is putting a collar on me. Can we just go? We’re wasting precious time.”