I move to her trunk, which is standing wide open. Her overnight bag is inside, exactly where she would have put it if she were loading her car normally. But then why is her purse on the ground?
My heart starts racing as I scan the immediate area. The parking spaces on either side are empty. There’s no sign of her anywhere.
“Shadow!” I call again, louder this time.
Nothing.
I start walking through the area. It takes me a while to check everywhere. Then I return to her vehicle, picking up her purse. Her regular cellphone is inside, along with everything else. It’s all untouched. It’s clear she dropped it…and then what?
I pull out my phone and dial the number of her burner phone, but it just rings.
Fuck.
I stand by her car for several minutes, waiting, hoping she’ll appear from behind some pillar or return from the restroom. But the garage remains eerily quiet, except for the distant hum of ventilation systems and the occasional car door slamming on other levels.
My dragon is snarling now, pushing against my skin. Every instinct is screaming that something is wrong. Shadow wouldn’t just abandon her purse like this. She’s too careful.
Her trunk was left wide open.
I try her burner again, and once again it just rings and rings.
“Fuck,” I growl, eliciting a look from a couple three cars down. I mutter an apology.
Something is wrong.
Something bad.
I know it.
Shadow is in trouble.
My dragon wants me to shift, to take to the air and search for her from above. The urge is so strong that I can feel scales trying to push through my skin. But I’m in a public parking garage, in broad daylight. Shifting would expose everything.
I can’t.
I force myself to concentrate on my breathing. In and out. I have to calm down. I’ll find her. I will! I just need to think.
If Shadow’s been taken – and every fiber of my being is telling me that’s exactly what happened – then this isn’t random. It can’t be.
My hands are shaking as I dial Webb’s number.
“Marsh?” he answers on the second ring. “Everything okay?”
“Laurence, I need your help,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Something’s happened to Claire.”
“Claire?”
“Yes, Claire Douglas.”
“Oh, um…Claire. Okay, um…yes. Why do you think something’s happened to her?”
“I’m in the parking garage. Her car is here, but she’s not. Her purse is on the ground next to the driver’s side, contents scattered everywhere. There’s no sign of her anywhere.”
There’s a pause. “Maybe she’s in the restroom? Or grabbing something from the terminal?”
“I’ve been waiting here for twenty minutes, Laurence. I called her personal phone, and there was no answer. Something’s wrong. I know this is a bold statement, but I think she’s been abducted.”
“Abducted?” Webb’s voice rises with disbelief. “You’re right; it sure is a bold statement. Who the hell would abduct Claire? And in broad daylight in a busy airport parking garage? Come on, Marsh, there has to be another explanation.”