“What is it?”
“You haven’t seen Tate anywhere, have you?” Nate asks.
Hugo, who looks equally worried, adds, “Or Carson?”
“They’re missing?”
I do my best to stay calm, but inside I’m wondering what the hell is going on in my town.
“Last seen leaving the church hall at around four,” my right-hand man explains. “Nothing after that. Neither is answering their phone and both go straight to voicemail. They’re turned off. We’ve checked friends, searched around the park thinking they may have come here. I even checked with dispatch to see if maybe an accident was called in involving Carson’s car, and I called Dana at the clinic as well. I know it technically hasn’t been that long, but this doesn’t feel right.”
By this time, it’s been almost four hours since they last were in contact with someone. They’re teenagers, they live on their phone and for both of those to be turned off is disturbing to say the least. I’m also not discounting Hugo’s gut feeling, because combined with my own sense of doom, I’m convinced something is very, very wrong here.
There is still a killer out there somewhere.
“Any chance they could’ve run off together?” I hold up my hand to stop Nate from reacting. “We have to consider the possibility, and I’m sure you remember how upset Tatum was last night.”
“Carson told me what happened in the barn,” Hugo contributes. “And I know I’m trained not to rule out any possibilities, but I’m willing to stake my badge on it; they did not just take off together. Not over that. I don’t believe Carson would do anything to put Tatum in danger.”
“I don’t see it either,” Nate agrees. “Tate and I talked this morning and she was fine, not upset. They didn’t run off, but something happened.”
I nod. “Okay, Hugo, you call in to dispatch to put out a BOLO for the kids and the vehicle. I’m heading back to the office to write up a warrant for Judge Crombie to sign. We need to get on the horn with the cell phone company to find out where those cell phones last pinged. Or maybe the CID team back at the station can help us fast track that.”
I glance over toward the bandstand.
“But first I want to make a public announcement. Are you guys okay with that?” I look each of them in the eye. “If it turns out the kids took off somewhere on their own, this could be embarrassing for them.”
“Do it,” Nate immediately replies.
Hugo just nods.
The fact neither of them even hesitates shows the level of their concern, and mine is mounting with every second.
Time is of the essence, which is why I don’t stop to wait for a break in the program, but instead march right up on the stage mid-song.
“I’m sorry, it’s an emergency,” I tell the startled singer, who immediately offers up her microphone and moves aside.
Both Hugo and Nate step up next to me.
“Good evening, folks,” I start, moving back a little when the mic starts to squeal. “I apologize for the interruption, but we are urgently trying to locate Tatum Gaines and Carson Alexander and are calling on the public for help. Anyone who has seen either Tatum or Carson, or Carson’s vehicle.” I step aside to let Hugo share the car’s details, before I continue. “Or has spoken to either of them, or knows anything about their possible whereabouts, please contact the Sheriff’s Office directly.”
I rattle off the number for the office before apologizing again to the band. When I start down the steps, my father is already walking toward me, Phil, looking very concerned, by his side.
“What can I do?” Dad asks.
“I may need help with the phones at the station, and I need someone to prioritize tips as they come in.”
“Done.” Then Dad looks at the men to my side. “We’ll find the kids. You’ll see.”
He immediately turns, grabs Phil’s hand, and starts walking, Hugo right on their heels.
“What should I do?” Nate asks, looking so lost my heart constricts in my chest.
I’m about to tell him to tag along with me, when I catch sight of Roy Battaglia with a couple of other guys approaching.
“We’re gonna drive around. Any idea where they were last seen?”
“New Horizons Church, but that was around four o’clock,” I inform them.