Page 45 of Girl Lost
He nodded, liking the idea more now that he’d said it out loud. But he saw a big problem. “Look, if Carlie is caught up in any sort of trafficking, whether it’s drugs or...”—he couldn’t bring himself to say the words—“something darker, the commissioner isn’t going to want us to move on it until we’re rock solid.”
Luna leaned back in her seat. “I see your point. But I’m a little light in this area. What exactly are you thinking?”
Corbin chewed the inside of his lip as he considered how to explain. The mere thought of Carlie being involved in something so sinister made his stomach churn. He took a deep breath. “I’m thinking we need to tread carefully. If we’re dealing with a trafficking ring, they’ll scatter at the first sign of trouble. We can’t risk losing Carlie or any other kids involved.”
“So, we need to build a solid case.” Luna had her eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the windshield. “Gather enough evidence to take down the entire operation in one sweep.”
“Yes. No loose ends, no chance for anyone to slip through the cracks.” This type of investigation would be difficult, even withLuna as his partner. “Every minute we spend building that case is another minute Carlie, and who knows how many other vulnerable kids, are out there with these creeps. It’s a tightrope walk, and I’m not sure I can keep my balance.”
“Who can you trust?”
Besides her, she meant. “Here’s what I’m thinking. I’ll have Blade put a few guys on Ashley, Andre, and Jordan. Pick them up on something simple. A possession charge. Just something to scare them. With a little pressure, they’ll sing. Especially Andre. He’s a talker.”
“Smart.” Luna pressed a knuckle to the corner of her mouth for a moment. “Except I wouldn’t waste time with Ashley or Andre right now. I’d go for Jordan.”
“Jordan? Why? The kid practically vibrated with hatred for cops. One killed his dad, remember?” She had to be wrong about this.
“Body language. Tone of voice. Microexpressions. He hates cops, sure. But that makes him vulnerable.” Luna paused. “Deep down, most people want to do good. They want to be a part of something bigger. Make their world a better place. Jordan’s just channeling his anger wrong.”
He thought about himself at that age. Reinventing himself. Trying to be the opposite of his own father. He’d needed a cause. A purpose. Something to believe in. Stryker had given him that, but Jordan ... “The kid’s hatred for cops runs too deep. He won’t talk.”
“Not to just any cop.” Luna’s eyes met his. “But he’ll talk to you.”
To him? No. She was way off. “Why would a cop-hating kid talk to me? Iamthe job, Luna. My whole life is about being a cop.”
“He’ll talk to you because of your dad.”
He clenched his teeth. His father. The man who’d haunted his every step, whose shadow he’d spent a lifetime outrunning.
The knot in his stomach tightened. Everything Corbin was today was the opposite of what his father represented. And now Luna wanted him to use that darkness, that legacy of violence, toget information from a troubled kid? No. He didn’t want to bond over his father.
It wouldn’t work anyway. He should know. “A kid who hates cops isn’t going to open up because of my father.”
“When was the last time you saw him, Corbin?”
He hesitated. The image flashed in his mind. His father. Handcuffed. Led away.
A murderer. A monster.
“At his murder trial.”
“I get it—” She was cut off by the harsh vibration of his phone in the cup holder.
The Broward County Sheriff’s number flashed on the screen. He held up a finger, asking Luna to give him a second, and answered. “King.”
The world slowed as he listened to the caller on the other end.
“Okay. Yeah. I got it.” He was already shifting the car into drive and pulling out of the parking lot. A hot acid burned his gut. “I’m on my way.”
Luna asked, “Everything okay?”
Corbin looked at her then back to the road. “They’ve found Carlie.”
16
LUNA’S BODY JERKEDwith each bump as Corbin steeredthe car off the asphalt onto a dirt road borderingthe Everglades. Two hours of driving had brought them tothis desolate road, barely visible in the fading light. The news of Carlie’s death sat like lead in her stomach. Poor girl. Poor Corbin. Her heart achedfor him,for the pain etched across his face whenhe’d received the call.
This was the stark difference between their worlds. Her training was with the living, not the dead. She dealt with abstract threats, faceless enemies, and potential mass destruction. Her job was to prevent catastrophes before they happened. To stop the dominoes from falling. But Corbin? He faced the raw, personal tragedies head-on. Each case, each victim, was a real person with a name, a face, a family left behind. He waded through the aftermath of lives lost.
