Page 3 of Girl Lost
He was breathing hard. “No plates. They wore masks. Should be able to get surveillance footage and interview witnesses.” Like her, Corbin was already thinking of the next steps.
She had her phone out, thumb hovering over the screen. The secret code used to send secure cables to the Agency wouldn’t work on this plain smartphone. The only person whose number was stored in this one had just been kidnapped.
Corbin muttered something Luna couldn’t hear. He had a hand on his waist. The tail of his blazer was pushed back, showing the gun in its holster on his hip. He rattled his name, badge number, and their location into his phone. “I’m reporting a confirmed kidnapping in progress. Requesting immediate backup and notify detectives.”
With Stryker gone, she had no reason to stay. Time to start searching for him. She did an about-face and went back inside.
Angie was on the phone in hysterics. It’d be a wonder if the dispatcher could make sense of the gibberish behind her sobs. Luna marched to the table and picked up her purse. Paused long enough to drain her lemonade and toss a twenty on the table before heading back outside.
Corbin fell into step beside her, phone still pressed to his ear. “Where are you going?”
She kept walking.
“Hey, you can’t leave a crime scene.” He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.
She caught his hand in a wrist lock and rotated his forearm until his knees buckled. “You’ve gotten slow in your old age.” She flashed a thin smile and shoved him, releasing her hold.
Corbin stumbled a few steps. The look on his face was almost worth the agony of seeing him again. She turned and headed for her car.
The last person she’d ever wanted to see was Corbin King. Not here. Not now. Not ever.
“Luna! You can’t just walk away. Luna!”
Stryker was not only her mentor but a father figure. She wouldn’t stand by and let someone hurt him. Besides, he was the one who’d arranged the adoption. Handled everything himself, outside the system when she was too young and emotionally wrecked to question the details. Back then, she hadn’t wanted to know. Convinced it was better that way. But that had changed.
Now, without Stryker, she had no way to find the only blood relative she had left. And after everything she’d lost in Pakistan, she could not afford to lose anything else.
The weight of it all didn’t matter.
She would save Stryker.
She would find her daughter.
And she would do it without Corbin King.
2
THAT STUBBORN,stubborn woman. Obstinate as ever after all these years.
A light breeze caught Luna’s dark hair, and the long strands fanned out like an ebony banner as she marched away. The tendons in Corbin’s neck vibrated. Why couldn’t she stay and talk to him for once?
He shook his head. That woman had serious walls up.
No, not just walls—she was fortified better than Fort Knox. He shouldn’t be surprised. Rather than face pain and work through the messy stuff, Luna always cut and ran. They’d done everything wrong, and they’d paid for it.
Apparently, he was still paying for it.
Back then, he’d thought their bond was elastic enough to always bring her back. But now it was painfully clear she would always run.
Even from him.
The wail of distant sirens snapped him back to the present. Backup was approaching fast, and if he wanted to maintain his involvement in the case, he had to insert himself as the first responder.
Using his phone, he photographed the scene in wide shots first to document the layout. The street. The diner. The few cars liningthe street. Next, details. Stryker’s Jeep. The skid marks where the SUV had peeled away. The gash in the side of the cars.
His eyes fell on the sidewalk, where paper dots lay scattered. Those telltale markers from a Taser could be critical evidence linking the kidnapping to the suspects. He crouched and snapped photos, ensuring he captured the placement of each.
With no witnesses and the evidence secured as best as he could manage alone, he turned and stepped inside the diner. The air around him seemed to shift, just for a heartbeat. This was Stryker’s place, but Corbin avoided coming here. Every corner, every worn booth, reminded him of Luna—of how empty it felt when she’d left.
