Page 153 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
Ben was at his breaking point. He and Will hadn’t gotten far when the call came that Jamison wasn’t in the van. “He does.”
“Good, we can spread out and search.”
“Where do you want me?” Will asked his son. “Coordinating here or in the field?”
“I don’t know.” They heard what sounded like Liam’s hand smacking the steering wheel. “I don’t fucking know.”
“Go with Ben,” Annabeth said, thumbing through her phone as she did her best to help by scouring the internet for details on the area. “If they took Jamison to Arkansas, that’s where you need to be.”
“But keep the planes on standby,” Liam added. “We might need to move fast elsewh…”
He trailed off, and Rowan’s brows snapped together. “Liam?”
“I swear to God I just saw Bruce,” Liam hissed. “He pulled out of a gas station in front of me.”
The screech of tires tore through the speaker, and Will snatched up the phone. “Son, you’re functioning off very little sleep. The likelihood of you seeing Bruce right away is insane.”
“The fucker shot me,” Liam snarled. “I know what he looks like.”
The call disconnected, and Rowan split the screen on his laptop, tossing Liam’s GPS onto the media room projector while pulling up satellite imaging. “Shortstop Conoco, Marshall Street in Garfield, Arkansas. Heading southeast on Highway 127.”
Will called someone and relayed the info. “No, he won’t do anything but search for Jamison Fairweather, so please stop asking for my son to check-in. Get your people out there.”
The dot showing Liam’s signal increased its speed. The satellite feed wasn’t live, holding a short delay, but could catch up in a matter of thirty to ninety seconds.
“He really thinks he’s after something,” Bernie said quietly.
“The sun’s up,” Ben said, leaning over his shoulder as Rowan made his way into another satellite to try for a better signal. “We can’t chalk this up to Liam mistaking someone for Bruce because it’s dark.”
Annabeth darted across the room to a stack of files. Rowan tried to stay focused, but she’d become shaky in the last few hours, and he wanted to make sure he stayed on top of anything she might need.
“Babe, what are you doing?”
Digging through a file, she waved away his concern. “Looking for something.”
“He’s turned off the highway,” Bernie said, redirecting his attention. “County Road 917.”
Will tried to call Liam, but he didn’t answer. “Are all sons this stubborn?”
“Yes,” Ben replied grimly. “Yes, they are.”
Rowan started sorting through property records in the area. There weren’t many, and the further Liam drove, the fewer options there were to search.
“Okay, so County Road 917 becomes Hayden Road, and then Hayden Lane?” Rowan hated rural areas like this. The service was always shitty, and the old maps weren’t worth crap. The satellite would never sync to a truly live view, and there was a slim possibility of losing sight of Liam.
Annabeth returned with a sheet of paper she’d extracted from a file, typing on her phone one-handed. “Seligman, Missouri,” she said and continued to type. “Seligman is just north of Beaver Lake.”
Rowan expanded the map, and sure enough, there was a Seligman, Missouri. “Yeah?”
“Give me a minute.”
Liam’s tracker dot stopped, reaching the end of the road. Will stood from his chair, walking toward the screen. “Something’s wrong. Rowan, how much longer until satellite catches up?”
“It’s never going to be live-live. This one is about a ninety-second delay, but it’s the best option considering the area and provides us a better lay of the land than the tracker software, which uses an older map system.”
“My God, this woman posts everything,” Annabeth muttered, her finger swiping across her screen repeatedly. “No one cares about your casseroles, Janice. Ah, here we go. Photos from 2017. At least she’s organized.”
Bernie swooped around the table to see what Annabeth was doing. “Who is Janice?”
