Page 4 of Give Me Peace

“One more thing, Lochlan.” My spine straightens at the use of my first name. “The patient that offered up the information? She’s the mother of the county sheriff. He’s lived with her all of his life.”

“Fuck,” I groan, thumping my head against the vanity.

“Fuck is right, son. Even worse, the CNA said he visits his mother nearly every day but hasn’t been in since Friday.”

It’s Tuesday.

“I’ll get there as quick as I can.” I hop up and end the call, knowing there’s nothing left to discuss and time is of the essence. I’m yanking on a pair of slacks a second later, pocketing my phone as I rush around the room. Grabbing my duffel, I quickly pack a few days’ worth of clothes. My perfectly pressed, color coordinated shirts are ripped from their hangers without a care. I have no idea how long this will take, but I plan to stay in town until I’ve scoured every inch of that godforsaken place.

We’re on borrowed time. For all we know, the fucker’s been tipped off already. The fact he’s changed his routine, missing visits with a mother who’s clearly in poor health, doesn’t bode well for us. He could’ve taken Saylor and ran already, or worse. I can’t think about the worse right now. Pulling my cell back out, I send a quick text to Roan.

Be ready in 10. Pack for a week.

I don’t bother elaborating. The guys know by now that when they get this type of message, it’s go-time. I’ll fill him in once we’re on the road. Within two minutes I’m headed for the kitchen and powering up the Keurig. The clock on the microwave reads 2:42am. It’s going to be a long night and an even longer day. Tightening the lid on my coffee, I sling my bag over my shoulder and head for the garage. As expected, Ro’s already there, his own bag at his feet as he leans against the driver’s door. I hit the unlock button and toss him the keys, quickly sliding into the passenger seat.

“Just us?” Roan grumbles, the low cadence of his voice making the words nearly indiscernible.

“Just us,” I confirm. “I didn’t want to wake the twins. You know Kash would never get back to sleep. I’ll reach out closer to sunrise.” Ro hits the button for the garage door, the modern lift barely making a sound as it rolls upward. While he gets us on our way unnoticed, I punch in the coordinates Denvers sent. Roan gives the screen a cursory glance as he steps on the gas, the driveway rapidly fading behind us.

“Pike’s Bay?” Ro questions, spotting the neighboring town on the map before I can hit ‘go’. “Kade?”

“Not Kade,” I answer robotically, pulling my spare laptop from the backseat. “Saylor.” I whisper her name, too afraid to say it out loud and make it real. I’ve both dreaded and longed for this day. Ro still heard me, if the white knuckled grip he has on the steering wheel is any indication. I quickly summarize the call from Denvers, explaining the urgency of the situation. A hundred and seventy-six miles has never felt so far. It may as well be on the opposite end of the country. Fidgety as hell, I settle in for the longest drive of my life.

Chapter Two

Lochlan

The first time I ever stepped foot into Pike’s Bay was three years ago. Ro and I were following a lead on the disappearance of a politician’s daughter. Her cellphone had pinged off a tower just before Laiken County, so we’d questioned the locals, hoping someone had seen or heard something useful. The only thing we managed to find was Kade.

He’d been a right asshole, shoving a crumpled manilla folder in my face, insistent we look at the information he’d gathered on a local girl that’d been missing for two years. I’d been impressed with the effort he’d put into finding Saylor and the thoroughness of his knowledge. Something about the desperate way he angrily demanded our help gave me pause. To this day, I still don’t know the full story or why he’s taken it upon himself to bring Saylor home, but Kade’s dead set on trying his damndest. His devotion to the cause has never wavered, but it begs the question—why?

He didn’t have the means or resources for a proper investigation, and while I couldn’t promise we’d ever find her, I did offer him a place on our team and the chance to help others in the same predicament. Kade had jumped at the opportunity to get out of Pike’s Bay, and even though it was an adjustment, we eventually found our groove. It wasn’t always easy, but we click more days than we don’t. He’s our brother—in all the ways that count—so it didn’t take long for his personal crusade to become our own.

We studied every bit of evidence he’d managed to gather, and the twins did what they do best and filled in the missing pieces. There was hardly anything. Nothing, truthfully. Not a single lead or clue as to what happened on the day Saylor went missing. With no starting point, I decided to reach out to the agent assigned to Saylor’s case. That’s how our relationship with Denvers began. He was wary at first, not wanting to jeopardize any potential evidence, but he came around. Not that it did us much good, as he had fuck all, too. He promised he’d never stop looking though, and one more person out there searching was one more that wasn’t.

Our work relationship progressed over time. We’ve built a lot of trust between us these past three years, and I know he’s just as eager and hopeful as we are that this will pan out. Saylor’s grown on each of us, beyond just the loyalty we feel to help our friend. It was impossible not to get wrapped up in the blue-eyed girl with the button nose. Her pint-sized frame was enough to send our protective instincts into overdrive.

She’s got fire, though. I’ve seen it a few times in the home videos we’ve been given access to. Saylor’s a champion for the underdog, standing up for the weak and bullied. I can only hope she found some of the fight she reserves for everyone else. That she’s somehow still alive and we aren’t headed towards a devastating conclusion.

“How the fuck is this possible? We pretty much ruled out she was still in the area after…” Ro trails off, his jaw clenched so hard I can hear his teeth grinding together.

“I don’t know.” I sigh, leaning my head back against the seat. “The only thing I can come up with is that it was a distraction tactic. He made us think she was long gone, sold to some fucked up billionaire with too much money to spare and a taste for depravity.” I try not to think about it, not wanting to relive what we’d seen, but the memory is forever etched in my brain. While we’d found no trace of her initially, a few months after the twins had been searching, they stumbled across our first piece of evidence.

It was a picture of Saylor, her hands bound behind her back as she knelt on a dirty mattress. She’d been blindfolded, but there was no mistaking it was her. Her naked body had been offered up for anyone to ogle, covered in bruises and small abrasions. From what we could tell, it’d been taken shortly after she was kidnapped. We were years late in finding it, and never came across another. That left us with two conclusions: she was already dead or she’d been sold.

Being so close to the coast, it made sense. It would’ve been too easy to traffic a young girl with that sort of access. The deep recesses of the internet are a vile place. Saylor’s photo had been discovered in a ‘meat market’, an opening bid of five hundred thousand attached to the image. Not once did we think she was one town over, right under our fucking noses. It makes me ill to think we might have failed her so epically.

Even with the information we gained, we never stopped searching. Kash and Krew have single handedly wiped out a multitude of trafficking rings and flesh auctions, combing through each one for any sign of Saylor. It’s messed with their heads, all the twisted shit they’ve seen, and those two have enough baggage as it is. There was only so much we could with no new information, but that doesn’t stop the guilt from churning. I’m trying not to get ahead of myself, knowing there’s no guarantee this will go the way we hope it will. It could be another dead end, just some old lady off her rocker. But my intuition says we’re on to something.

God, I hope it’s right.

Shaking the negative thoughts away, I refocus my attention on learning as much as I can before we get there. Laiken County is made up of three towns, a whopping two hundred-and-eight square miles combined. Pike’s Bay is where Saylor and Kade grew up. The other two—Lyola and Sesley—are just a smidge bigger. The basic information I’m able to pull up tells me that Sheriff Liam Price resides at 8037 Sebastian Avenue. The same address is listed for his mother, the actual owner of the house. Clicking over to Google Earth, I zoom in and scope out the property.

The small house has wood panel siding. It’s less common due to the climate of the area, but not unheard of. Makes sense though, why they’d have a porch to match instead of a concrete patio like most stucco houses do. From what I can tell, the only other structure that’s visible is a small tool shed that might fit a lawnmower, but not much else. I’m not sure what the plan is once we arrive, seeing as there’s not much to search, but I’ll be damned if we leave without turning over every rock we come across.

My phone dings from the cup holder. Absently swiping the screen, I see a text from the same unknown number Agent Denvers called from earlier.

Just got word that local deputies are enroute to do a welfare check.