Page 69 of Open Arms

“It has to be her brother.”

Walker’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t question me.

“We need to talk to Ford.”

“Ford?”

“Yeah.”

Walker hesitated for just a moment, but then nodded. “Alright. I’ll get him on the phone.”

As Walker stepped away, the police arrived, and a flurry of activity began.

I paced the living room like a caged animal as the police combed through the house, taking items and dusting for prints. The sheriff, an older man with a gruff demeanor, asked me questions in a flat, procedural tone that grated against my raw nerves.

“When was the last time you saw or spoke with Miss Beecham?”

“This morning, around six thirty,” I answered tightly. “I kissed her goodbye before I left for the ranch. She was making pancakes for Abby.”

The sheriff scribbled in his notepad. “Did she seem distressed about anything? On edge?”

I shook my head, raking a hand through my hair. “No, she was her usual self. Happy. Excited for her shopping trip with Abby after school.”

“And you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary? No one lurking around or signs of forced entry?”

“Nothing until I arrived back here.”

“We’ll put out an alert for Miss Beecham and her car.”

I didn’t have a whole lot of faith they’d find her before I did but I nodded and thanked him.

The sheriff sighed. “Well, Mr. Bridges, I know this is difficult, but we’re going to do everything we can to find Miss Beecham. In the meantime, I suggest you take your daughter somewhere safe.”

I gritted my teeth, frustration boiling in my veins. I didn’t want to sit around waiting while Chloe was out there, scared or hurt.

Just then, Walker approached us, phone in hand. “I got Ford on the line. He’s willing to help.”

“Thank fuck.”

Ford Brooks made his living as a programmer, but what he really was, was a hacker of immense proportions. He grew up with us here, but moved away to California shortly after graduation. We’d been friends at one point, but that point was a long time ago.

Last time we saw him, we’d all gotten into a fist fight andhad to spend the night in the county jail. I never thought I’d talk to the man again, but if anyone could look into Chloe’s brother, it was him.

And I knew that this all had to lead back to her brother.

Walker handed me his phone and I made it quick.

“Ford.”

“Mason.”

“Walker explain what’s happened?”

“Yeah, I’m up to speed. Tell me what you need.”

“Chloe’s real name is Katie Byers. She has a brother, birth name Jamie, or James, I guess. Look them up and you’ll find out the history.

“Already on it.” I should have figured. “Shit, man.”

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