Page 70 of The Twins
“What the fuck?” Cillian said, his fists clenching.
The black-and-white image showed the front of the prison; a wide driveway, lined with grass, and then the main road. I recognized Rebecca straight away. Her sexy curves, the way her hips rolled as she walked. She was lost in her phone, her hair catching in the breeze.
“She’d been in to consult with her client,” Mitch said. “I called and checked. Nothing untoward happened.”
“And they just let her walk out of there?” I snapped.
“The bad guys are inside, or that’s the theory, she should have been okay out there,” Mitch said. “But here…” His jaw tensed. “This is a problem.”
My heart squeezed, and I had to steady myself by gripping Cillian’s shoulder.
A white car with blacked-out windows careered onto the screen, nearly hitting Rebecca. In an instant, a tall man dressed all in black was out, scooting around the car and throwing her in the back.
She barely had time to resist it all happened so fast.
I felt sick, furious, goddamn murderous.
“He’s fucking dead,” Cillian said, matching my thoughts exactly. “And I’ll enjoy killing his sorry ass.”
“What’s he doing?” I asked as he appeared to pile in with her, over her.
“Could be any number of things.” Mitch shrugged. “None pleasant.”
“Like what?” I asked, not really wanting the answer.
“Touching her up, drugging her, threatening her.”
I swallowed, bile rising. She’d be terrified, poor sweet Rebecca. We’d failed in what we’d promised to do, and that was unforgiveable. No amount of Hail Marys would fix this shitshow
Suddenly he reappeared, his face hidden from view as he stooped and rushed around the car again. The engine revved, and he wheel-spun away, sending up a spray of dust and grit.
“Plates?” I asked.
“I’ve run them,” Mitch said. “They belong to a red Transit van, they’re stolen.”
“So no leads there.” Cillian looked at me, fear in his eyes. He’d gone pale, and his lips were pressed together.
“Can we still use ANPR to follow the plates?” I asked.
“Yes, good shout.” Mitch clicked another screen to life. “Here…”
“Do we need to put an official report in?” I asked.
Mitch clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Let’s just get her back and worry about that later.”
Mitch worked on the edge of the law, it was one of the reasons he’d never got promoted. He’d been caught out a few times, flirted with disciplinary action, stared getting booted out of the force straight in the eye. But he had the gift of the gab and managed to always bounce back.
And the fact of the matter was he was bloody good at what he did.
“So this screen shows the route the car took out of the city.” Mitch pulled up a screen. “They went north.”
“And what’s this?” I pointed at a red blip.
“That’s the last time the registration was picked up.”
“But that…that’s forty minutes ago? Where is the car now?”
“Where isRebeccanow?” Finn said.
