Page 34 of Never Stay Gone
“Jesus,” Shane breathed.
“That can’t be a coincidence.” Dakota’s exhale caressed the side of Shane’s face. “Were they meeting? Was she his dealer?”
“We’ve got to find Frank.” Shane stood, and his body slid against Dakota’s. Dakota hadn’t moved back quickly enough to avoid him, too absorbed in the rewound frozen video feed capturing Amber’s last steps toward the outer lot. Shane jerked, his bad knee wavering. Dakota reached out and steadied him, his big hand landing on Shane’s hip seemingly automatically. He didn’t look at Shane.
Shane limped toward Jared’s office door and pulled out his cell phone. He texted Heath and asked him to send up an APB on Frank Lynn, then sent the license plate number Dakota had scribbled down and the phone number Frank had called Jackson from a month before. Jackson thought he’d called from Odessa, he said.
Odessa, thirty-one days before. The day Jessica Klein vanished.
Was Frank connected to three of the missing women? And if so, how was that anything other than purposeful?
Damn it, he should have arrested Frank years ago. Should have worked harder to convince Libby to press charges. If Frank had been locked up, would Libby, Amber, and Jessica still be alive? And the other two women too?
What about the last set of remains? How did ten-year-old bones connect to Frank?
Shane was lost in thought when his phone buzzed with a text back from Heath. He said he was coming back into range out of the far northwest sector and would be back in Rustler as fast as he could, and that he’d call the APB in from the road.
“Jared, we’re going to need copies of all this,” Dakota said gruffly. “You know how to do that?”
“Just take the disks.” Jared had sagged against the back wall. “I’ll call the state about getting more cameras put in too.”
“You do that.” Dakota popped the disks out of the player and fit them into their plastic sleeves. Then he crossed the cramped office and joined Shane by the door. “I don’t like this,” he said quietly. “This feels bad, Shane. It’s starting to feel like this truck stop is a huntin’ ground. Maybe those thirty days are a pattern. Maybe Frank’s comin’ here every month for more than one fix.”
Shone nodded. “Jared, I want you to put the word out to everyone here to keep their eyes open. Stay alert, and stay on guard. Have the truckers keep their lights on in the outer lots too. All night long. We need everyone to keep an eye on each other, okay?”
“I’ll put it out over the CB. And put up signs in the bathrooms.”
“Thank you,” Dakota said. He tipped his hat to Jared. “We’ll be in touch. And we’ll be back.”
“Catch him, please,” Jared said, his voice weak.
“We will.” Dakota reached behind Shane and pulled open the door. He held it open for Shane, the back of his hand brushing the small of Shane’s back.
They emerged from the dim office into the fluorescent hum of the travel mart. Outside, the light had faded, the sky no longer a screaming blue but rather drawn with dust and wisps of streaking clouds reaching for the horizon in the marigold light of early dusk. Shane’s stomach roared as they passed the empty hot box that still smelled like boiled hot dogs.
“Hungry?” Dakota arched an eyebrow and gave him a small smile.
Shane hadn’t eaten since he’d nibbled on the breakfast sandwich Heath had brought him the previous morning. He’d almost thrown that up after seeing Dakota for the first time in over a decade. “I can grab a granola bar.”
“Let’s check out the restaurant. I wanna see where Libby worked.” Dakota veered from the travel store through the archway to the small truck stop restaurant, and Shane followed behind him like a baby duck.
The restaurant was made up of a few booths, a collection of mismatched tables, padded chairs with duct tape patches, and a coffee counter in front of a short-order cook’s station.
“Seat yourself!” one of the waitresses called as she filled coffee for a trucker sitting alone by the window. She bustled away and grabbed a plate of food from the counter and two menus from the hostess stand, then crossed to the booth Dakota was sliding into.
Shane sat gingerly as she set down the menus. He didn’t recognize her, though she had the look of a local. Middle-aged, like Libby, in a pink dress with a half apron tied around her waist. Her brown hair was cut short in a fluffy, face-framing style, and she had on thick eyeliner and a narrow stripe of pink lipstick.
Shane looked out the window to the parking lot. Looked down at his hands, gripping the edges of the menu. Looked anywhere but at Dakota sitting across from him.
“Ma’am?” Dakota turned his cell phone to the waitress. Shane almost groaned. “Do you recognize this man?”
The waitress peered at the screen. Shane spotted Frank’s driver’s license picture and sighed in relief. Dakota couldn’t just go flashing corpse photos. “No,” the waitress said. “I ain’t seen him before.”
“Thank you kindly.” Dakota flashed her a wide smile.
She smiled back as she flipped the ceramic cups in front of them and filled them. “I’ll be back to take your orders in a few, hon.”
Silence. Dakota sipped his coffee and stared out at the lot. Shane turned away to watch the restaurant. He couldn’t even look the same direction as Dakota. Hell, he could barely sit there with him.Talk to me, he wanted to scream.Look at me with something, anything. Anything other than those cold, unfeeling eyes.
