Page 6 of Unplanned Target

If Allie is as smart as Miranda says, I don’t see her taking this at face value. I get she’s a kid, but even at sixteen, she should be wary of a text like this. Especially since her friend was likely abducted.

“I...” Miranda’s dark brows pinch together. “I don’t actually know if she came home after school. I was working and I had my treadmill on, so I probably wouldn’t have even heard her come in.”

Giving the room we’re in a quick scan, I ask, “What about a security system? Are there cameras anywhere around the house?”

Everyone has at least a doorbell camera these days—and frequently a couple covering the front and back yards—so I’m unsurprised but relieved when Miranda nods.

“Tony installed a system a couple years ago. He didn’t like the two of us being here alone.” She comes to sit beside me, taking her phone from my hand. She swipes to an app for a pretty common brand and opens the feed, passing her cell back to me.

My brows lift, because what I’m seeing isn’t only the outside of Miranda’s house. “And you didn’t feel like this was invasive?”

Miranda snorts. “Absolutely I felt like it was invasive.” She motions to the three top feeds. “Which is why he can only see the outside of the house. Only I can see the ones that are inside.”

I lean closer, stretching one arm across the back of the sofa so it’s not wedged between us as I begin to go through each feed systematically, rewinding through the day.

I’m on the device recording the front yard when Miranda sucks in a breath. “There she is.”

The timestamp is just after two. “So she definitely came home after school.”

Switching feeds, I follow Allie’s movements as she comes inside and goes to the kitchen. I watch closely as a skinny teenage girl with the same dark hair as her mom and uncle moves through the kitchen, pausing to get a drink and grab something from a drawer before going out the back door. She’s in the house less than a minute.

“What did she put in her pocket?” I scroll back and enlarge the grainy feed. “What do you keep in that drawer?”

Miranda leans against me, eyes trained on the screen as Allie digs through the drawer before pocketing something she pulls out. “Nothing important. That’s pretty much a junk drawer.”

“Show me.” I stand, holding a hand out to help her up.

Even once she’s on her feet, Miranda doesn’t let me go. She grips my hand tightly, dragging me through the large first floor of her home. We pass a half bathroom with high-end fixtures, a library with glass-paned French doors, and a formal dining room I’m guessing doesn’t get much use considering its pristine condition.

Miranda doesn’t stop until we’re in the kitchen and she’s pulling open the same drawer her daughter sifted through this afternoon. “See? It’s just a bunch of random shit I was too lazy to figure out what to do with.”

Random is a pretty big understatement to describe what I’m looking at. The collection of odds and ends includes everything from plastic gift cards to single sticks of chewing gum. There’s a flip-top container of dental floss, a mostly used pad of hot pink sticky notes, a random piece of string, and a handful of ketchup packets, along with an assortment of batteries rolling around next to a single tiny light bulb.

“Can you tell what’s missing?” I know the chances of Miranda being able to remember everything she’s tossed in here are slim to none, but I need her to try. It could be important. “Doesn’t matter what it is. Even if it’s a twist tie.”

“There probably were twist ties in there at some point, but I don’t remember how long ago it was.” Miranda releases my hand so she can move a few of the items around. “I’m always adding new stuff, and I try to throw away at least one thing for every new one I put in.”

“Sounds like a great system.” Not for me since it’s going to make it more difficult for her to identify what her daughter took this morning. Then again, her plan has also likely kept the thing from becoming an avalanche full of so much shit it would be impossible to narrow down what’s gone.

Miranda stares at the collection for a full minute before slowly shaking her head, shoulders slumping the tiniest bit. “I don’t have any clue what she took.”

“That’s okay.” I glance down at where I still hold Miranda’s cell, but the screen has relocked. I want to watch Allie’s path as she leaves the house, so I hold it between us. “Let’s see what she did after she walked out.”

Miranda takes the device, nodding as she taps out her passcode. Suddenly her face snaps in my direction, eyes wide. “I know what she took.” One finger aggressively points toward the cell in her hand. “I got her a new phone and we kept the other one, just in case either of us ever needed a backup.” Her pointing finger swings to stab at the open drawer. “I put it in there.”

I’m not sure if this is a good discovery or a bad one. On one hand, it’s smart as hell that Allie would think to take the phone. On the other, it means she left the house knowing hers would not only be turned off, but also expecting she might need to call 911.

“Can I call the phone?” Miranda’s words come fast, excitement at possibly being able to find her missing daughter bringing color to her cheeks.

And I have to disappoint her. I fucking hate doing it, but I’m not willing to give her false hope. “Not unless there’s a line attached to it, and if you switched Allie to a new phone, there probably isn’t.”

As quickly as she perked up, Miranda wilts. “Fuck.”

“But this is something else my technical team might be able to use. Maybe there’s a way to track it or attach a line without accessing the phone physically.” I don’t know if either of those things are possible, but if they are, Intel will be able to do it.

Pulling out my own phone, I decide to skip the text this time and go straight to a call. Dialing our team coordinator, I give him the information I have so he can get Harlow, Heidi, and the rest of the team on the task. Once that’s done, I turn to Miranda.

“Now we go to the coffee shop.”