Page 54 of A Future To Remember

“What do you need, Dutch?” Brice asked, his voice cutting out a bit from speaker of the phone pressed tightly against my ear.

“I need a connection to anyone working vice in the area. I want to see if the description—especially that tattoo—rings any bells.”

“Done. Have you asked Wheaton if he recognizes the description?”

“No. Not yet. And I’m not gonna be the one asking.”

“Why not?”

I let out a weighted sigh. “Because the man’s an idiot. He still likes me for the crime. He thinks I murdered her.”

Brice snorted what was probably his fourth cup of coffee for the day. “Dammit,” he muttered.

“Got coffee on your shirt again, huh?”

He chuckled. “Nothing gets by those keen detective senses, does it, bud?”

“Mad skills, brother. Mad skills.”

“Should I have a word with Wheaton? If he’s gonna be any kind of a hindrance to the investigation going forward—”

“Not necessary. Oscar and I can handle the sheriff. And Hernandez is gonna be the one to ask Wheaton about this piece of shit at the gas station. Maybe it’ll ring a bell with the sheriff, but I’m not holding my breath. You ask me, this guy was just cruising through and stopped for gas and some groceries when he crossed paths with Abby.”

“Okay, but if Wheaton gets out of line, you call me.”

“Deal.”

“What else?”

I inhaled a deep breath, trying to fill up my lungs with fresh air. I was dog-tired but wired, a weird combo that had me feeling out of sorts. “I need Candice.”

“She’s already booked a flight.”

My throat tightened. Candice had been almost as wrecked by Abby’s disappearance as I had. We’d been in silent misery together for six months, hiding our worst fears, deepest loss, and unending hopelessness on the inside while projecting the kind of anger that comes with biting the heads off anything and anyone who even looked at us funny. Brice’s marriage with Candice had suffered for it, but he wasn’t about to complain.

“Good,” I told him, after hearing that Abby’s right hand was on the way. “I also need to keep Oscar here.”

“Done. I’ll clear it with Gaston and put in for some backpay so that he doesn’t keep using up his vacation time.”

“He’ll like that. It’ll give him a chance to get in a honeymoon when the time comes.”

Brice grunted. “The wedding’s in two weeks.”

“Yep.” I’d gotten the invitation a couple of months earlier. Scratch that, Abby and I had gotten the invite a few months earlier. You had to hand it to Oscar and Nikki to just assume she’d be home in time. It meant a lot that they’d never given up on her.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Nah, Brice. I’m good.”

“Great, but before you go, I had a thought.”

“That’d explain the smoke.”

He plowed on as if I hadn’t just dogged him. “I want you to consider coming back to the Bureau—”

“Not a chance. Not till she’s home.”

“Hear me out for a sec, would ya?”