Page 2 of Girl Lost
She hadn’t called Luna a doll.
Corbin dropped his sunglasses on the table and leaned back to look at Angie. “Coffee. And a few moments of your time, if you don’t mind.” He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew ablack wallet. A deft flip revealed his credentials. Florida Department of Law Enforcement. “I have a few questions for you.”
Impressive. Corbin had done well to work his way into Florida’s version of the FBI.
Angie flicked her eyes between Luna and Corbin, and she coughed a phlegmy laugh. “Am I in trouble, Officer?”
“No, ma’am. Just have a few questions about a missing person. Can we chat in private when I’m done with my friend here?”
“Sure. I guess I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” She sauntered back to the kitchen, shoulders squared and a touch of extra height in her stance.
“What are you doing here, Luna?” The honeyed tone he’d used on the waitress morphed to granite.
“Since when does the FDLE investigate missing persons?”
“Since when do you talk to Stryker? Or any of us, for that matter?”
“Why do you keep answering questions with another question?” Although she knew good and well she’d started it.
The squiggle of a blue vein bulged at Corbin’s temple, and she kind of enjoyed it. “Since we gave our baby up for adoption. Since you cut me out of your life.” His finger stabbed the table to punctuate each sentence. “Since you left town without a word and never looked back.”
Another crack formed. His words knifed her heart. Images of a teen beggar girl on the streets of Pakistan played through her mind. The one with dark hair and eyes that mirrored her own. The girl’s striking resemblance to herself had brought Luna back to the time when she held a tiny life in her arms. The baby girl she’d given up—not because she wanted to, but because she refused to let her child suffer the life she’d had.
The daughter she’d brought into being was somewhere out there in the world, and she needed Stryker to tell her where.
The pang cut deep, but Luna gathered her composure and locked her emotional armor down tight. She wasn’t the only one who’d walked away. “You broke up with me, Corbin. You told meyou didn’t want to be a father. You made that choice. I just made sure our daughter had a future.”
The skin around his collar flushed crimson. She could see his neck straining. “I can’t believe you—”
A sharp glint of light flashed through the storefront windows. Whatever Corbin was saying faded into nothingness. She watched Stryker emerge from his rusty old Jeep parked across the street. His hair, a blend of salt and pepper, hung in a knot at the nape of his neck. Aside from the silver strands, he looked like the same athletic man she’d known when she was a teenager.
Years melted away. She saw the man who’d seen the good in her, even when she was a mess of anger and bad choices. The man who’d taken a lost and confused girl and forged her into something stronger, something more. He’d pulled her back from the edge, shown her a different path. And somehow, against all odds, the rebellious girl who’d once cursed every cop in sight had become a government agent.
He’d challenged her, pushed her, never let her give up on herself. And she hadn’t. Would he still recognize that girl in the woman she’d become?
A black SUV slammed to a halt outside. Doors flew open. Three dark figures jumped out, faces swallowed by masks, bodies muted by black tactical gear.
Guns. They had guns.
Luna was on her feet before she knew what was happening. Her brain put it together on the fly.Outside. Help Stryker.
Corbin’s chair scraped back. Clattered over. He was on her heels.
Stryker wouldn’t go down without a fight. With his reflexes, he could disarm a shooter and break a few bones faster than she could blink. His resistance would buy them the priceless seconds they needed to get outside.
One man pointed a Taser at Stryker and squeezed the trigger. Two barbed probes shot through the air and embedded into the back of Stryker’s neck, sending fifty thousand volts of electricityscreaming through his body. The other two men caught him under the arms before he hit the sidewalk and hauled his limp body into the back seat.
Luna and Corbin burst outside. Shouts. A woman screamed. But Luna’s eyes were laser focused on the dark vehicle. The doors slammed shut.
Corbin had his gun out. “Police! Stop or I’ll shoot!”
The SUV’s engine roared. The vehicle lurched forward, tires shrieking, grabbing traction. It fishtailed, sideswiping two parked cars. Then it swerved back on course, speeding down the street. It blew through a stop sign and disappeared around the corner.
Bits of red and yellow confetti littered the street and sidewalk. Luna crouched and used her fingernail to scrape up a few of the tiny round dots.
Corbin sprinted half a block chasing after the vehicle before he stopped. Feet set shoulder width apart. Knees flexed. Arms extended and ready to fire.
She marched over and slapped her palm on the muzzle of his gun to shove the barrel down. “Put that away. You can’t shoot into a busy street at a fleeing vehicle.”
