Page 62 of To Have and to Hold

Back at the precinct, the desk officer peered over and scowled, but didn’t stop me as I sprinted past.

Quick reconnaissance of the half-empty office showed me that Knox wasn’t wandering around. He must be at his desk. I strode by cubicles, noting that there were more people than normal working the nightly grind. The atmosphere crackled, like a spark had been lit in every person who remained. Twitches unseen by the naked eye put a bounce in people’s steps and fervor in their organization. A task room was somewhere unseen, filled with Emme’s face, maps and scrawls and suspects, larger in scale than mine at home, and a place I’d never be allowed to enter. A woman with an auburn twist in her hair and pink-rimmed glasses cut in front of me, her arms full of papers. A man in a navy suit hopped into the aisle and sidled up beside her, talking urgently near her shoulder. Maybe they were headed to that secret area, the one holding everything relevant about Emme except for who wanted her most.

Knox was bent over his desk and pointing at his computer screen with Levi at the helm when I strode up.

“I found something,” I said in lieu of greeting. Knox glanced over, frowning, and when he saw it was me the lines deepened.

“I thought I told you to go home,” he said and came to a full stand. Levi also took stock of me, but the concern was more obvious in his expression.

“I discovered something. I tried calling.” I gestured to the phone on his desk. No doubt it would have at least five missed calls from me and I brushed aside the notion that he was screening my calls.

“We’re in the middle of an important find, Spence,” Knox said. “We gotta get going. How about I meet you for a drink tomorrow, we can discuss—”

“Abigail Danner, you heard of her?”

Knox made no outward reaction, but Levi gave it away for both when his tapping index finger paused.

“Yes,” Knox said carefully. “But, how have you?”

“I may not have the official title of detective, but you’ve never denied my sleuth-like abilities before,” I said. Now wasn’t the time to admit I found her name in his stolen files.

Knox sighed. “What of her, Spence?”

“I was able to connect with her on the phone, and—”

That had Knox’s hackles not rising, but spiking. “Spence, do not tell me you did this.” He held up his hand. “Fucking don’t. You are out of control.”

“I’m trying to find her!”

My outburst had me halting further speech. There was an ominous burn behind my eyes. Levi stood, his arms hanging but ready to subdue at any moment.

“This is unlike any case I’ve been involved in and I’m not myself,” I admitted, injecting calm into my voice. “But that doesn’t mean my brain isn’t working. I’ve never felt so motivated to get someone home safe in my entire career. My entire life. And I may be a jackass, but what else do you expect of me?” I held my hands out, palms up like Knox could fill them with answers. “You’re my friend, but also a cop. I’m in the same kind of fight. I’m not meant to be a prosecutor here, I’m supposed to be the man who loves her and will do anything to get her back.”

Knox’s jaw muscled shut, until he released it. “All right. Tell me what you have.”

“Abigail Danner—Johnson, now—described Ed Carver as a stalker—all the typical signs of a guy who at some point would take a woman to become his victim. I think it’s time, and Emme was his breaking point. He’s escalated—”

But Knox was already nodding and holding up his hand. “We know, Spence.”

I froze with my fingers in midair.

“Ed Carver, the inappropriate behavior and escalating background, the possibility that he could be responsible for Emme’s abduction. We know,” Knox repeated.

I always thought describing the wind going out of someone’s sails was such a cliché, but here I was, literally drooping in the corner of Knox’s cubicle.

“We got the surveillance at the bodega on the corner of John and Pearl,” Levi said. Knox warned him off, then thought better of it. He waved his hand at Levi to continue as he palmed his phone and shoved it into the inside of his blazer. Knox then collected his keys and wallet to put in his back pocket.

“And?” I prompted Levi, but kept my attention on Knox. He normally wasn’t so dismissive.

“The store camera caught a guy matching the description of the perp who abducted Emme out of the lobby, entering earlier that day. The recording has this guy buying two items—jugs of fruit punch. He paid in cash, the cashier got the license plate—he looked at the surveillance once the BOLO went out with the media. The guy on video was in the same type of clothing, same build. Cashier called in about two hours ago.”

My sails billowed. I’d been right. “Do we have a lead on the plate?”

“The car was registered to an Ed Carver.”

“And he lives less than a mile away from the location Emme was last seen,” I said. That fact swerved into my gut.

Knox stepped around me. “Which is why we have to go. Right now. Wait. Here.”

---