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“Please.” I followed him. “It’s important.”
“I figured that much.” Porter’s dad found a pencil and paper near an old landline phone in the hallway. “What has Porter done now?”
“It’s nothing that he’s done.” I rubbed my neck anxiously while I waited for him to transcribe the address.
Mr. Hayes handed over the note. “Now get outta my house.”
I grabbed it and retreated to the front steps. Dillon was waiting, and I passed the note to him. We jumped in the truck and sped away, Dillon typing the address into the GPS as I drove. We arrived at what looked like a respectable home in one of the suburban neighborhoods off Main Street. I checked the note again to make sure we had the right address. It seemed to be legitimate. I couldn’t imagine Porter having enough money to rent this place, and it looked more like a single-family home than a halfway house.
I climbed out of the truck, aware that I was battling the clock. I hurried up the steps, Dillon at my heels. We knocked, more respectfully this time. A middle-aged man who was not Porter came to the door in a bathrobe.
“I’m Mike Newbury, a friend of Porter Hayes,” I introduced myself. “Is Porter here?”
The man sighed, moving aside to let us in. We crowded into a foyer with vaulted ceilings. “Wait here,” the man said.
A minute later, Porter emerged from the kitchen, smiling. “Mike!” He took my hand, seeming to disregard my state of panic. “Thanks for visiting. But how did you—”
“We stopped by your parents’ place.” I answered the question before it was asked. “Is there somewhere we could talk?”
“Sure.” Porter nodded, ushering us through the kitchen to a door in the back. When we stepped through, I finally understood. There was an entire apartment in the garage, a bed, dresser, and mini fridge collected in the center, television mounted to the wall. The mechanical garage doors were closed, giving the illusion of a fourth wall. “I’m renting the garage,” Porter explained. “Do you want a soda?”
“No,” I said. “Porter, this is Dillon. He’s Tammy’s cousin-in-law?” I squinted through the familial connection, checking with Dillon to see if I got it right.
Dillon nodded. It didn’t matter anyway.
I sped on with the mission, determined to get it all out as quickly as possible. “Tammy’s missing.”
“Oh no.” Porter sat on his bed, stunned.
“If your old business associates are involved, do you have any idea where she might be?” I continued.
Porter nodded, looking up at Dillon first, then back at me. “I might.”
“Tell us,” Dillon said.
“I’m coming with you.” Porter stood up.
“No,” I argued. “It could get dangerous.”
“I’m the one who got you into this whole mess,” Porter admitted. “I owe you that much.”
I couldn’t say no. That he was willing to put his life on the line for my girlfriend was heartwarming. I had missed this Porter, the one who was a stand-up guy and who had my back no matter what. It had been so long since I had seen him, lost as he was behind a veil of intoxication. Together, the three of us charged back through the house and out into the night.
I drove while Porter gave directions from the passenger seat, Dillon squeezed between us. Porter took us up into the hills, on the opposite side of town from our cabins. We turned off onto an unpaved access road, bumping our way deep into the forest. After about a quarter mile, Porter poked my shoulder.
“Turn off here.”
“Where?” I asked. There was nothing but undergrowth and pine needles.
“There’s a cabin about a hundred yards up,” Porter said. “Turn the car off, or they’ll see us.”
I looked at Dillon. I didn’t like this, but there didn’t seem to be any choice. I eased the truck off the path and cut the engine. None of us had any weapons, so we were gonna have to go in stealthily and hope the element of surprise would carry us through. I switched on my phone and pinged the location to Jason.
We found Tammy’s car abandoned on the way out of town, Jason texted. Looks like an abduction. Wait for backup.
I showed Dillon the text.
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
