Page 72 of Fire Harbor

“1412 Tidewater Avenue,” Lake provided.

Eastlyn considered that information before picking up her radio. “Lincoln One requests a crime scene unit from county to Number Ten Sand Dollar Circle. Lincoln One also requests backup at 1-4-1-2 Tidewater. Officer checking at that location now for missing female, Abby Anderson.”

“I’ll go with you,” Linus volunteered.

Eastlyn shook her head. “You let us handle it. Colt’s ETA is three minutes out.”

Chapter Twenty

By noon, it was obvious to everyone that Abby Anderson had gone missing. Suspicion fell on Derrick Kingsley almost immediately because he had confronted Abby and Greta at the bar the night before. Eastlyn couldn’t locate him. He wasn’t at home or at work. Tradewinds Construction rarely worked on Sundays. When Colt followed up, Zach Dennison confirmed that none of their crews were working that morning. However, it didn’t mean that Derrick hadn’t picked up a side job somewhere.

“Don’t worry. We’re trying to find him now,” Colt assured Lake. “A BOLO is out on both of them and Derrick’s green Dodge pickup.”

“I’m not sitting around waiting,” Lake prompted. “Counting Greta, you have three people standing around right now willing to help. We should be out driving around town, scouring the area for Derrick’s truck. There are only four people on the force, Colt. You guys can’t do everything. We could use our own vehicles to try and spot him. Whether you give us your permission or not, you know we’ll look on our own. Please let us do something to help.”

Colt let out a sigh. “Alright, but if you see him, do not approach him or engage. We don’t know what his mindset is right now.”

“Deal,” Linus said in agreement. “We’ll each take a section of town. And I’ll call Beckett and Birk. They’ll want to help out.” He turned to Lake and Greta. “I’ll head south to the bridge. Derrick might’ve taken her there.”

“But that was last night,” Lake said in a panic, following him to his pickup. “It’s now been over twelve hours. Do you think he’s already done something to her and left town?”

“I’ve thought of that. He’s either gone on the run or hasn’t yet decided what to do with Abby. Let’s hope he still has her. I’ll ask Birk and Beckett to meet me at the bridge.”

“I’ll head north,” Greta offered, “in case Derrick decides to head that way and go somewhere other than the bridge.”

“That leaves me to take east,” Lake murmured. She watched Linus take off down Tidewater and head south, leaving her at Greta’s mercy. “Will you drive me home to get my car?”

“Sure.”

“We should’ve gone with Linus,” Lake decided as she settled into the Fiat. “If Derrick is the killer, he’d return to where he was most comfortable.”

“Want me to turn around? We can always check the bridge before going out on our own,” Greta voiced before adding, “I’m scared, Lake. I know we talked about this at the meeting. But having it happen in real-time is like watching a horror story come to life in slow motion. I never thought I’d be searching for a friend.”

“I know this feels surreal, but we need to focus on what we can do right away and not let fear get in the way.”

When Greta reached Crescent Street, she braked at the stop sign. “So, are we heading to the bridge or not?”

“Yep, let’s follow Linus. Tell me about what happened at the bar last night.”

Greta floored it through the intersection and headed toward Ocean Street, making a left turn past the pier. “There’s not much more to it. Derrick was pissed about you digging up his backyard and he took out his anger on us.”

“But why not me? Why not take me?”

“Because you were probably with Linus last night, right? Abby lives alone. So do I. You could be looking for me instead of Abby. That’s a sobering thought,” Greta growled as her foot pressed on the gas. “Derrick isn’t stupid. He went after the person who lives closest to him and the most vulnerable.”

Lake’s stomach churned at the thought of either woman being a target because of something she did. Chills ran down her spine at the realization of how close they were to danger that morning in Derrick’s backyard.

As they continued heading toward the bridge, Lake couldn’t shake off the nagging fear that time was slipping away, each passing second brought Abby closer to an unknown fate. She glanced out the window at the familiar sights of their small coastal community, the scenic shoreline now taking on a sinister edge in the wake of Abby’s disappearance.

They drove the rest of the way in silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them like a heavy fog, suffocating their thoughts with fear and uncertainty.

Linus had a head start, weaving through the quiet streets, trying to come up with everything he could remember about Derrick Kingsley. While the two men had never really hung out together, Linus had known Derrick the entire time he’d lived in Pelican Pointe. He tried to remember where Derrick had moved from—somewhere back east, maybe. Always a friendly sort, Linus could recall the times he’d seen him at McCready’s back when it was more of a pool hall with an Irish bent, back before Durke Pedasco bought the place and turned it into a real bar with live music. They had even spent a few Saturday nights playing pool together. Never during those times would he have suspected Derrick was a serial killer.

As he approached the bridge, Linus felt his heart pounding in his chest. He slowed the truck down and scanned the area, searching for any sign of Derrick’s pickup. Suddenly, a glint of green metal caught his eye near the edge of the water. Linus squinted and saw the familiar shape of Derrick’s truck parked on the dunes. The tires were stuck in the muck and mud. His heart lurched in his chest as he realized what this meant. Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone and dialed Colt.

“It’s Linus. Derrick is at the bridge. You need to get here now and bring backup,” Linus insisted. “He has a gun—looks like a Glock from here—and he’s pacing back and forth, talking to himself.”

“We’re on our way. Is Abby with him?" Colt asked.

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