Page 130 of Finding Denver
Marnie’s face flashes through my mind. A mother taken, never seen again, my sister-in-law gone for good.
Spider.
I stride back into the house and take the stairs three at a time, reaching my room and snatching up my phone. Denver’s phone is on the nightstand.
Alistair answers. “Yep?”
“Spider took Denver,” I say. “Do we still have one of the guys from Arizona?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “No, they’re all dead.”
I finish dressing, grabbing Denver’s phone and my keys as I head out the door. “There must be someone alive. Someone we can get information out of.”
“Colt … there’s …” He pauses. “There isn’t anyone.”
I pause in the street, the snow falling around me, the cold already in my bones as I keep the phone to my ear.
I’ve been looking for Spider for years. Since the day he took Marnie from us, I’ve hunted his every move, followedevery sighting, took hold of every lead and rinsed it until there were no answers left.
But never has his ability to disappear shrouded me so fucking heavily as it does right now. He has her. He has Denver, and I don’t know how long it’s been, or where they could be, or what’s happening to her.
I swallow the need to panic, because I don’t have time for it. “Check the cameras around the house. He’ll have removed the plates, but you can follow the car. Are you at Finn’s?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m on my way over.”
The snow is too deep to even consider driving, so for the second time in six hours, I run to Finn’s. I fire off a text to Ronan and ask him to meet me at the house.
Once I arrive, I find Alistair with his laptop in front of him. Finn’s footsteps approach as he descends the stairs. With our lives, you’re always one foot in the waking world, waiting for disaster to strike, so Finn is alert when he appears in the doorway. He’s in sweats and a T-shirt, glasses balanced on his nose.
“Where’s the car?” I ask.
Alistair runs a hand across his mouth. “It wasn’t Spider. It was Ranger.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He won’t hurt her, but he will take her back to San Francisco and use every resource he has to keep her there.
“Track his phone.” I say, but Alistair doesn’t move, his gaze focused on his laptop. “Alistair. What are you doing? Track Ranger’s phone.”
He finally looks at me, resolve in his expression. “No.” The tension is already thick with panic, but it becomes a tangible thing when betrayal is poured into the mix. For thefirst time in almost two decades, something dark and unfamiliar crackles between me and my best friend. “Colt, something isn’t right.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Isn’t it convenient that this has happened? She decides to stay, then all of a sudden you need to rush out and save her from Ranger?” He stands. “She has actively worked her way into all our lives. She has Finn on side, you, and the Laus. Is it really so out of the realm of possibility that she’d plan this to kill you?”
I step forward. “Be careful what you say next, Alistair, because you’re on dangerously thin fucking ice.”
My friend doesn’t flinch. “I’m your best friend, Colt. I’m looking out for you. And I don’t trust her.”
“Well, I do,” I say quietly. “Track the fucking phone.”
Alistair and I don’t fight. We’ve disagreed about the business over the years, but never like this. He’s never once voiced his concerns over Denver being here, and while I knew he hadn’t warmed to her like everyone else, I didn’t expect this.
He still doesn’t move.
“Do you trust my judgment?” I ask.
