Page 99 of Free to Run
I called within ten minutes.
Caleb arrived five minutes later.
We both stood in Alison’s bathroom in shock, knowing there was no way to explain this to the family without explaining everything.
Something I was going to have to do before getting a chance to say it all to the woman I love.
* * *
A Marshall man…adiamond…another woman. I should have known better than to think you were different, or that I was. YOU BROKE ME.
I think those words written in bloodred lipstick on her mirror will haunt me for the rest of my life, all because of my damned ego. Because I never admitted I had a stalker. And now, Alison is gone because of my lack of explanations.
Alison is gone.
Alison can’t be found.
Caleb immediately turned the full resources of Hudson into looking for her.
Her car was sitting in the garage of Watson, Rubenstein, and Dalton.
Jared had her phone.
Her credit cards hadn’t been used.
Her clothes were missing.
The last cash withdrawal from her bank had been substantial, which included a transfer deposited to the company account of Watson, Rubenstein, and Dalton. She had also pulled out several thousand in cash.
There were no rental cars listed under her name under any agency our databases had access to.
Caleb had already tried to work Jared. Because of attorney-client privilege, and since she didn’t commit any crimes and wasn’t a witness, Jared was under no legal obligation to disclose her location.
I could practically hear Jared’s sneer through the phone when he said, “She’s not a missing person. She is in contact, with me. She chooses to not share that information with anyone else. Now, if you and Mr. Marshall have a need to bring my client back for any criminal proceedings, Caleb, please let me know. Otherwise, don’t bother me with such a ridiculous request,” right before he hung up on us.
I pick up my iPad and throw it across the room. It crashes into the wall and cracks with a sickening sound.
“We’ll find her, Keene. I promise you, brother. We’ll find her,” Caleb swears.
“How? She’s completely off the grid, Caleb! We can’t find any record of her anywhere,” I yell. Pressing my back against the wall of Caleb’s office, I sink down. The heels of my hands press hard against my burning eyes.
“You know, you stupid boy, if you’d just told her it was a damned op, you wouldn’t be in this fucked-up mess.” I don’t even lift my head as I hear Charlie’s voice berate me.
I’m not surprised by the underlying fury I hear in his tone. Charlie Henderson is the original investigator who worked with the Freeman family so many years ago before Caleb and I ever purchased Hudson Investigations. His relationship with the family evolved into an avuncular one. He’s watched over what he consider’s his adopted family ever since.
“What do I do, Charlie?” I whisper.
“Something you completely suck at, Keene,” Charlie replies. “You have to wait. It’s not going to get fixed overnight. In the meantime, I suggest you start repairing the relationships you can. You’re going to need them when you can find her.”
Still crouched down by the wall, I try to stand. I glance up and see a beefy hand held out to me to help me up. I feel a burning hotness in the back of my eyes when I clasp his hand. “Thanks, Charlie.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You’re in for the fight of your life, Keene. Even Cassidy may draw blood over this one.” He transfers his look of concern from me to Caleb. “You’re not immune from this either. And with her pregnant…”
“Yeah.” Caleb lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. He’s feeling more than his own measure of guilt, which isn’t his to bear.
It’s mine.
Charlie steps back. “Get to work, boys. Get my family back together, pronto.” He lumbers his way out of the office.
