Page 84 of Protecting the Nerd

“Thanks for letting us know, Vincent,” Auden said. “Check in if you have anything new.”

Fir had kept working during the call, cleaning the gash on my forehead and putting a Steri-Strip on. He handed me a bottle of water and two pills, which I assumed were painkillers. I didn’t ask. The man was a doctor, for fuck’s sake. I took them, closing my eyes. Under any other circumstances, I would’ve had to lie down, but that wasn’t an option. I’d tough it out. I’d been through far, far worse.

“I know you can’t take it easy until York is back, but promise me you’ll let me know if any of your symptoms get worse,” Fir said quietly. “You know concussions are risky.”

I nodded, wincing at the pain flaring up. “I will.”

The room was a whirlwind of activity, but I had a hard time concentrating. All I could think of was York and how scared he had to be. Where would they be taking him? Back to Russia? That was hard to pull off, though, with SeaTac being monitored. Airport security wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t exactly easy to smuggle a man out on a plane, not even if you flew private. No, my money was on driving him across a border. Mexico, maybe? Though that was a hell of a drive.

Auden was discussing possible routes the van could have taken with Dalia when his phone rang again. He picked up, then muttered a curse. “I’m gonna put you on speaker with the FBI, Tommy. This is Sheriff Tommy Lipinksi of Halford, about half an hour west of us. Tommy, can you repeat what you just told me?”

A man cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. We just located an abandoned white van parked at the church in Halford. Taylor and Sons Plumbing, located in Seattle. I ran the plate, and it was registered as stolen but belonging to a different vehicle.”

“Good work, Sheriff. Have your men searched the vehicle?” Dalia asked.

“No, ma’am. They only did a quick check to make sure it was empty. We figured you Feds might want to process it as you have far more experience than I do.”

“Excellent. I’m sending agents over. Please make sure no one touches the vehicle, Sheriff Lipinksi.”

“You got it, ma’am.”

“They switched cars,” I said once she’d ended the call, dread pooling in my belly. A white van stood out, but now law enforcement had no idea what to search for. Fuck.

“Sounds like it.” Dalia turned around and ordered two agents to head to Halford to process the van and two more to ask if anyone had noticed anything.

“Let the sheriff or one of his deputies come with when you canvas the area,” Auden said. “No offense, ma’am, but locals are far more likely to talk to one of their own.”

“Good point.”

As she made call after call, ordering her agents around and making sure every incoming lead was checked, I sat down in a chair, tears close to the surface. How had we lost him? I’d never lost a client, but the one time when it mattered most, I’d failed. Even though I could reason that I’d been helpless against Russian terrorists, I still felt awful that I hadn’t been able to keep safe the one person who meant more to me than anyone.

Auden sat next to me. “They’ll find him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“They have enough leads to follow. It’s not a dead trail, Quillon. Not by far.”

“I know.” I buried my head in my hands.

His warm hand landed on my shoulder. “I bet he’s thinking of you too…when he’s not figuring out how to escape.”

I raised my head. “You think so?”

“This is York Coombe we’re talking about, the smartest man I’ve ever met. Did you know he won a national robotics competition when he was in tenth grade? And our school doesn’t even have a robotics program. He built a robot that could navigate this labyrinth, and he did most of it himself with the help of one teacher who did it as a hobby. And he won. He’s brilliant.”

The smile stretching my lips must’ve been sappy, but I didn’t care. “I know. It’s almost magical watching him work.”

Crap. I hadn’t called his parents. Should I? “Do his parents need to know?”

“I already called them, a brief courtesy call.”

“Thank you. He hasn’t spoken to them since the scene at the cemetery.”

Auden sighed. “That was so rough on him. I’ve never wanted to hug him more than I did then.”

“I wanted to slap his parents…and I’m not a violent man and have never hit a woman.”

“It’s so hard because they’re nice people, you know? Their home was always open to us, and we played there a lot, riding our bikes down the mountain. The Coombes were fine with it all, maybe also because they were always busy with The Lodge. But knowing what I know now, I question those memories, wonder if I missed something back then, if I should’ve seen something.”

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