Ella’s mouth fell open. “That’s not safe. You took an hour off the drive.”

Ryker removed his gloves. “I wore my gear.”

“Not sure gear will save you if you hit something going 120 mph, but keep telling yourself that.” Slater walked behind Ryker and flipped down his license plate from where he’d tucked it to hide it from the cops. “I used to hate shitheads like you.”

“And now you ask to borrow my bike.” He dismounted the motorcycle. “What’s our first move?”

“Not sure. I spent all morning ejecting men out of the bed with women. Except for you, of course,” Xavier said, smirking at Ryker. “Not sure when I’ll get to mess with you again.”

“Me, neither,” he said with a hard sigh. “Why do you think I wanted to go fast? I need some thrill in my life.”

Slater popped him on the shoulder. “You could try and find yourself a woman. A real one.”

He looked down as he unzipped his jacket. “I could, except I’m really into this woman online, and I don’t want to find someone to just…date,” he said as he glanced at Ella.

Damon appreciated his change in verbs. “Let’s focus on why we’re here. We can split up and cover more ground. Talk to the bar owners. See if anyone remembers anything.”

“I agree.” Xavier took out his phone. “Mom is waiting by the phone if we have any more questions.”

Damon slid his hand underneath Ella’s hair, his fingers rolling over the pearls, his memory jumping back to last night. His body tightened. He cleared his throat to get it under control. “Let’s head to the bar where the mom said he left his phone. It’s at the corner of this block. We need security footage. I’ll talk to this owner. Ryker and Ella can walk to the other businesses and see if they will let you tap into their security cameras.” Damon leaned close to Ella’s ear. “Stay with him and keep a low profile.”

“I will.” She glanced over at the water. “What are the odds this kid is in the river?”

“Not zero. But if he fell in anywhere with people around, someone would’ve seen it and reported it.”

Slater fell in step with Damon. “I called the local police to let them know we were here.”

“How did that go?”

“Fine. They’re still thankful for our help finding that little boy two years ago. Their hands are tied as to when to start a missing person search for an adult without suspicious circumstances.”

“True. But even if he went home with someone, he would’ve gotten his phone. Kids these days would not have gone this long without a phone.” He paused outside the restaurant, lifting Ella’s face to his with a finger underneath her chin. “Stay with Ryker.” He kissed her, and when he raised his head, he looked at Ryker. “Keep her safe.”

Ryker lifted the bottom edge of his shirt, revealing the butt end of a gun. “You know I will. Come on, Ella. Let’s see if we can talk these owners into letting us have their security footage.”

“Does anyone ever refuse?” Ella asked.

“Yes, they do. But the ones with servers online, I can get into regardless.”

They headed to the next group of bars, Damon watching her leave. He didn’t need the distraction. That’s why he’d sent her with Ryker. But the worry would be a constant distraction regardless.

Xavier set his hand on Damon’s shoulder. “You know she’ll be fine. No one looking for her expects her to be in broad daylight at noon in Savannah, Georgia. She doesn’t even look like the same woman. And Ryker’s a good man. He’ll protect her with his life.”

“Wouldn’t let her go with him if I didn’t think that. And I know I can’t keep her locked away, but the idea of her disappearing now is scarier than before. I hate admitting it.”

Shaking his head, Slater looked back at him as they entered the bar. “Hopefully, we won’t have to wait long to solve Ella’s case. That meeting is set up for tomorrow, right?”

“Yes. Face-to-face with Julia Cassin. Based on the little bit I got from Ella, she’s a piece of work. But that’s tomorrow’s problem.”

The place smelled old and musty, like a mix of dirty mop water that needed to be changed and a damp carpet that hadn’t dried since 1983. The interior reminded him of a ship—polished wooden floors, walls, and ceilings. Random nautical decorations had been nailed around, like a wooden ship wheel and a net with a fake starfish. And no bar was complete without a wooden replica of a carved topless woman, typically mounted to the bow of the ship.

And being a bar frequented by intoxicated males, of course the two spots for the breasts looked worn from years of groping.

“What can I get you guys to drink?” a man asked from behind the bar. His hair was shoulder-length and greasy brown. His skin was pale and had a million freckles. He wore a blue T-shirt with the same wooden topless statue on the front, along with the name of the bar.

“Is the owner here?” Damon asked.

“No, but I’m the manager.” He pushed up his glasses. “What can I help you with? Are you the police?”