Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“Yeah?” he said as he pulled the door open.
Standing on Jo’s doorstep in a police-issued rain slicker stood her scowling lieutenant.
“What the hell are you doing here?” the lieutenant asked as his frown deepened.
Tracker sighed. He could lie, but that wouldn’t help Jo. Looked like the cat was about to jump out of the bag. “I’m with Jo.”
“Define with Jo.”
“Eh, I don’t think so. I’m not one to kiss and tell. Just know it’s very hot.” He winked as the lieutenant’s face darkened to a near purple shade. But then his stomach dropped. “Wait. Why the fuck are you here looking for Jo? She’s on shift.”
“She never showed. Andrew either. Neither will respond to texts or calls. Do you know where she is?”
The beer bottle slipped from his fingers, shattering on the wood floor. She hadn’t made it to work? His vision narrowed to two pinpoints. Blindly, he reached for the door frame to keep himself from collapsing.
“Tracker? Tracker,” the lieutenant snapped. “What’s wrong? Do you think they were in an accident? Tracker!”
He jolted. “I need to find her.”
“I’ve checked the area hospitals. Neither of them has been admitted anywhere. So breathe.”
Okay, she was not dying on a gurney somewhere, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t dying on the side of the road. Fuck!
“I’m going to head back to the station and start a coordinated search effort. I can’t devote too many men to it right now, though. We had a huge explosion at a factory on the edge of town that’s taking most of my manpower. Combine that with this fucking hurricane and we’re stretched beyond thin.”
“My club will search.”
The lieutenant’s face puckered. “Christ, I hate that idea,” he muttered.
“Well, tough shit.” His woman was out there somewhere. No way in hell would he or his brothers sit on the sidelines. And no way did he trust the police to handle it properly.
Maybe he should have revealed all he knew, but Tracker didn’t mention Jo meeting Andrew a few hours ago. He and his club would search out that direction. The cops would just get in their way. Let them search elsewhere.
“Fine. Don’t fuck this up.” With that, the lieutenant turned and strode back through the storm to his department vehicle. “And don’t think this makes us friends,” he yelled over his shoulder.
He’d never make that mistake. Tracker grabbed his phone and called Curly as Betty whined.
“I know, girl, I know.” He grabbed his keys and opened the front door. Betty whimpered and took a step back when she saw the strength of the storm. She’d been trained to search in all conditions but needed a bit of extra encouragement in the blinding rain. “Come on, girl. Jo needs our help.”
“Tracker? What’s up?” Curly answered on the fourth ring. He sounded a bit breathless as if he and Brooke had been enjoying their time huddled together out of the storm.
“Prez,” he said as he ran to his SUV. “I need your help. Jo’s missing.”
Betty hopped into the car the second Tracker opened the door. He followed her, and once they were shut away from the rain, he stared out the windshield, only half listening to Curly.
Christ, Jo, where the hell are you?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“ANDREW?” JO CALLED into the pitch-black house. “Where are you?”
Couldn’t the lights have held on for a few minutes longer? Damn the timing.
She reached for her back pocket only to feel the lump of her keys but no phone. Dammit. Of course, she’d left it in the vent holder in her car.
It was then she remembered the chintzy flashlight keychain she’d gotten in a SWAG pack at a police convention a few months ago. She grabbed the keys from her pocket and felt around for the correct keychain. When she pushed the button, it cast a beam of dim light. “Ha! Success.” Not overly helpful, but better than nothing.
“Andrew?” she called again, louder this time. Maybe he hadn’t heard her over the storm. He’d better not be passed out somewhere. Helping him hobble out to her SUV would be one thing, but lugging an unconscious full-sized man out to her vehicle in this storm would absolutely suck. She’d do it, of course, but hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.
“Andrew. Shit! Could you lower that?” she said as a powerful flashlight nearly blinded her. “Seriously, Andrew, it’s right in my freakin’ eyes.”
“Why, Jo?”
Branding an arm in front of her face, she frowned. “Huh? Why what? What’s going on? You look like you’re walking fine, but you’re not making sense. Did you hit your head?”
He laughed but didn’t lower the light. Rude, considering she’d come this way to help him. Now, she’d be seeing spots for the next hour.
“Seriously, Andrew, you’re blinding me.”
“I don’t understand why, Jo. Make me understand.” He finally shifted the light from her eyes as he strode into the room without a hint of a limp.