Page 88 of Husband Missing

If there was even the slimmest possibility that he was still alive, Josie had to find him before he became part of a concrete footer on some construction site.

Josie had little doubt that Gretchen knew exactly what she was thinking. On the other end of the phone, the voices of their colleagues faded to nothing. When Gretchen spoke next, her voice was so low that Josie strained to hear her words. “We’ve got a name.”

“Who?”

“I can’t tell you that. Not now.”

“Did Erica Slater?—”

“Erica was released after her interview with Heather. Alec Slater checked them into a local hotel. The DA may want to speak with her tomorrow.”

They hadn’t gotten the name directly from Erica, then. Perhaps they’d found it in her phone or social media records.

“I can’t tell you anything more. I just wanted you to know. They’re holding it back from the press for now, hoping to find him quietly so neither him nor his associates get spooked. Everyone’s looking for him. There’s a statewide BOLO.”

It was news Josie had desperately wanted to hear for seventy-six hours but now that she had, she didn’t feel much better. How long would it take to find this guy? Would he crack and tell Heather what happened to Noah? Give up the location? If so, how long would that take? What if he refused to say anything? Lawyered up and kept Noah’s fate to himself? Heather would have to track down the other guys he’d been working with and try to get one of them to talk. That would takeeven longer with no guarantee that any of them would tell police where to find her husband.

Her phone beeped with an incoming call but she ignored it.

“Josie,” Gretchen said. “The best thing you can do for Noah right now—the only thing you can do for him—is to get some sleep and let the rest of us do our jobs.”

She nearly choked on her next words. “I know.”

They hung up. Josie sank onto the edge of the bed. Trout’s head lifted, his sleepy eyes curious and a little worried. Before she could soothe him, her phone rang again. She swiped answer.

“Miss Quinn?” Alec Slater’s voice was strained. “I need help. Erica’s gone.”

FIFTY-EIGHT

Balancing Trinity’s laptop on her knees, Josie slouched down in her seat and watched Officers Brennan and Conlen leave the Woodland Creek Inn. It was a major step up from the Patio Motel. Clean, well-lit, well-managed and properly fitted with very good security cameras. The parking lot was small, but she had managed to find a spot where she wasn’t likely to be seen that also gave her a clear view of the entrance. While she waited for them to pull away in their cruisers, she sipped from a paper cup. Bitter gas station coffee scalded her tongue. She tried not to gag. Spewing it all over the computer and the inside of Trinity’s rental car would not go over well with her sister. Despite the fact that the sludge was probably a day old and that there had been no sugar or creamer on hand to soften the taste, she needed the caffeine. It was foura.m.

Noah had been missing for seventy-eight and a half hours.

Drake and Gretchen had given her good advice. Sleep. Rest. Once Alec Slater called, there was no way in hell that was happening, no matter how badly her body ached for it or how her eyes burned with exhaustion. After checking into the hotel, Alec had had a long conversation with his daughter. Then he’d takena drive to a nearby convenience store to buy more cigarettes. When he returned, Erica was gone. Taken. He was certain of it.

Josie dutifully told him to call 911. He’d wanted her to come but she couldn’t. Not in a police capacity. Not in any way that would interfere with the job her colleagues had to do. Instead, she promised to be there after he spoke with them. She wasn’t even sure why. This wouldn’t lead to Noah. It wouldn’t give her the name of the man currently being hunted by Denton PD and the state police.

But she didn’t know what else to do and the desperation in Alec’s voice had called to her like a siren song. He was as terrified of losing his daughter as Josie was of losing her husband.

She choked down the rest of the coffee. The display on the laptop screen was dimmed as much as possible so she didn’t draw attention to herself. Between that and Josie’s tired eyes, completing her research had been a struggle. Making a list of all current Phelan construction sites as well as all properties owned by Mace had given her something to do while she waited for Alec. She’d come up with a third theory to top off her Tower of Absurdity which was supported by absolutely no evidence and sponsored by her raving lunacy.

But if Josie was right, then Gina had found Erica inside the children’s hospital build and tried to sneak her to safety because she knew that Mace was somehow involved in whatever led to Erica being bruised, battered, and held against her will. If Josie was right, Erica had been brought there for the purposes of being killed and buried where no one would ever find her body. The mysterious “Dylan,” or Mr. O Negative, had seen the two women escaping together and in the heat of the moment, stabbed Mace’s sister to death. Josie wasn’t sure how or why he’d gone from that scene to her home, or the role the rest of his crew played in what happened to Noah, but her theories dictatedthat Mace would have known that the three men had taken a law enforcement officer.

Obviously, they couldn’t be trusted to keep a twenty-year-old girl captive. They couldn’t be relied on not to kill Mace’s sister. They also couldn’t retrieve an item from Lila’s trophy box without injuring and abducting a law enforcement officer. Josie doubted that Mace would then entrust them with handling Noah—dead or alive.

Alive. He has to be alive.

Between the development projects being handled by the company and Mace’s own personal properties, there was a plethora of options for hiding or disposing of a body. Noah was at one of them. She was certain.

Or maybe she was just certifiably insane now.

Josie didn’t know what she was going to do with the list at this juncture, but she liked having it.

From her periphery, she saw Alec push through the doors of the hotel, still dressed in the same clothes he’d had on behind Burgers. He paused to light a cigarette, scanning the parking lot. When Josie flashed the headlights, he lumbered in her direction. She stepped out of the car before he reached it and motioned for him to walk with her.

Woodland Creek Inn was adjacent to Denton University’s campus. Silently, they made their way out of the parking lot, through an empty plot of land to the crest of a hill that overlooked the stadium. The structure was no more than a hulking shadow, the soft yellow lights along the pavement surrounding it barely piercing the darkness.

“Here,” Josie said, stopping before they made their descent. “University police patrol the campus during the night. I don’t think either one of us is prepared to deal with that kind of hassle.”

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