Fear makes my knees buckle, and I sink to the cold floor as tears well in my eyes. This is already a night I’ll never forget.
23
CRANE
“There was a car here.” I’ve followed the trail through the snow to the back parking lot at Town Hall. My blood is pounding in my ears as my worry creeps higher and higher. This is the work of Liza’s stalker. I have no doubt of it. But it’s not Mick or Clark–both my prime suspects. Who else could’ve taken her? I fist my hands, my ire rising. Whoever put their hands on her is going to pay dearly. “Is this parking space assigned to anyone in particular?” I ask Eve.
“No. We don’t have assigned parking.”
“What’s the problem?” Clark strides up.
“Liza’s gone!” Eve cries. “The bathroom window was busted out, and there are drag marks in the snow.” She points. “Look!”
I drop to my haunches and look more closely at the parking spot. The center of it is dry. The snow on the ground fell earlier in the morning, which means the car that was parked here had likely been there all day.
“What’s happened?” Mayor Grable hurries up to us. “I heard a window was broken.”
“It’s worse than that. Someone’s taken Liza.” Eve wrings her hands.
I stand and look around the parking lot for any more clues.
“What do you mean ‘taken’?” The mayor stares at the trail through the snow.
“Kidnapped.” Clark pulls his walkie from his shoulder and sends out a be-on-the-lookout for her, then starts giving orders to set up a perimeter around town to stop cars.
“Why would someone take my daughter?” The mayor looks around, her face dazed. “Why would anyone want to hurt Liza?”
“I’m going to find her, Ellen. I promise you that.” I take her hand and squeeze it. “Do you know who parks in this space? Is there a regular?”
She looks down and blinks, as if not fully comprehending my question. She’s in shock, I realize. The thought of her daughter being taken has knocked her off her feet.
“Mayor.” I point to the empty space. “Who parks here? Do you know?”
She looks around. “Um, it’s a white car, I think. One with tinsel in the back window for the entire year.”
Eve puts a hand to her mouth. “That’s Carlton’s car.”
“Carlton?” Clark and I say at the same time.
“I thought he was gay,” Clark says.
“Me too.”
“I don’t care what he is, if he’s hurt Liza, he’s about to be in a world of shit.” I pull out my phone. “Where does he live?”
“Over on Beechnut. The house with the really sharp roof,” Eve says.
“I’m on it.” Clark takes off at a jog.
There’s no way he took her to his house. He was too messy leaving a trail. He’s got another spot, a hideaway somewhere.
“He wouldn’t hurt her. Would he?” Mayor Grable grabs my arm. “Right?”
“I’m going to bring her home.” I do a quick search in some not-so-legal databases for Carlton’s name. I get a few hits. Mostly speeding tickets and a few misdemeanor arrests for solicitation of prostitution in the past year. Otherwise, there’s nothing. I switch tactics and look up his relatives. The only living one he has is his mother.
“What are we going to–”
“Just give me a minute.” I go back to my search. Enid, a 72-year-old, has a spotless record. I keep scrolling, then search another spot. That’s when I see it. She incorporated a business called Tinsel Vibe two years ago. “Not a fucking chance that’s her,” I mumble, then click through the company. It’s a shell that owns another company. That company has a few assets, one of which is a parcel of land in the hills nearby. “That’s it. He owns property in between here and Winter Heights.”
I meet the mayor’s gaze. “I’m going to bring her home. Sit tight.” With that, I take off toward my car that’s parked out on the road.
Once I’m in, I see Eve trying to catch up. I don’t have time to wait, though. And considering what I’m about to do to Carlton, I don’t need witnesses.
I gun it down Main Street, then out onto the highway, my phone giving me directions as I take several turns that eventually lead me to a gravel road on the side of a steep ravine. I turn onto it, winding my way through switchbacks until I’m at the top of the ridge. Up ahead in a grove of trees is a cabin. It’s well hidden, nestled between tall pines and done in colors that keep it inconspicuous.
Killing my headlights, I roll to a stop then reach into my glove box and pull out my Glock. Getting out, I push the door lightly shut, then stalk around the property, getting a good look at windows and doors, marking where my quarry might run out. Just like old times.