*
Layne was in his Suburban, making his fourth pass around the Christian Church when his phone rang. His neck was tight, he was pissed he had so little intel on Gaines he had no clue where to look.
He grabbed the phone off the passenger seat, looked at the display and put it to his ear.
“What you got for me, Dev?”
“Cell number the reverend gave you binged. We got his location. Ryker rendez vous’ed at the office to report in, he was here when I locked on the GPS signal and we moved out, on our way now. Ryker says ETA is ten minutes.”
“Give me a location,” Layne ordered.
Devin gave him the location and the location surprised him, since it was on Colt and Cal’s street, not only on their street, next door to Cal, directly across the street from Colt, then Dev stated, “We’re not waitin’.”
“Don’t,” Layne returned, cutting through the parking lot to do a uey to the alley so he could hit Main and back up Devin and Ryker. “I’m five minutes behind. See you there.”
“Copy that. Out,” Devin grunted and Layne heard the disconnect.
He flipped his phone shut and was in the process of tossing it to his passenger seat when it rang. He twisted it in his hand, looked at the display, flipped it back open and put it to his ear.
“Sweetcheeks, now is not a good time,” he said into the phone.
“Your Mom and me are on our way to Giselle,” Rocky said back and Layne’s chest seized.
“No you’re not,” he growled.
“Yes, we are, Layne,” she shot back. “I’ve been calling her all morning, leaving messages. She picked one up and she called me back. She says she’s alone, hiding out, scared to death. She says she only wants me. No one else but me.”
Good news was, Giselle was alive and able to make calls on her phone. Bad news was, Layne’s woman was a nut.
“Where is she?” Layne asked.
“Two two three Rosemary Avenue. A girlfriend’s house. I know this girl, her parents took her out of school, her Grandma’s sick and not going to make it. They all flew to Florida to be with her, their house is empty.”
Two two three Rosemary Avenue was not where Devin and Ryker were heading.
“You know this is where this girl lives?” Layne asked.
“No, but that’s where Giselle says she is and we’re headed there,” Rocky answered.
Fuck.
“Where is it?” Layne asked.
“The Sunny Hills development, toward Clermont.”
Layne knew it.
“I’ll go, you go back to the house,” Layne ordered.
“She told me not to tell anyone. She’s scared to death, Layne. She told me she’ll only open the door to me.”
“I’ll go, you go back to the house,” Layne repeated, clipped this time.
“She’s terrified, Layne!”
“What did I tell you about doin’ stupid shit?” Layne bit out.
“She’s alone and she’s scared,” Rocky snapped back.
“You think, maybe, she isn’t alone? You think maybe she’s sayin’ somethin’ someone’s tellin’ her to say?” Layne gritted through his teeth.
Rocky was silent.
Then she said, “We won’t approach. We’ll recon the area and stop at a side road. Your Mom’s driving because my car is a two seater. They won’t know the car even if they see it. You go in first. She’s not alone, that’s yours. She is, I come in and that’s mine. Deal?”
Recon the area? Jesus.
“Deal,” Layne replied because he had no time to talk her out of something she was determined to do and, making matters worse, Vera was acting sidekick which meant Layne had zero chance of talking both of them down.
He was rethinking his maneuver of reuniting his Ma with Roc when he flipped his phone shut, opened it and called Dev.
When he flipped his phone shut on the call to Dev, he opened it and called Merry.
*
“You don’t have backup,” Rocky whispered through the window.
“Merry’s on his way, not five minutes out,” Layne said back, glanced at Vera then his eyes went back to Rocky. “It’s all good, I’ll take it slow and won’t take chances.”
“Layne –” Rocky whispered.
“Keep your phone in your hand, your eyes peeled.” His gaze went to his mother. “Car on, Mom, hand on the gearshift, anything goes down, you’re gone.”
Vera, eyes wide and lips pressed together, nodded.
“Layne –” Rocky repeated, still whispering.
Layne locked eyes with her.
“Be back, sweetcheeks,” he whispered back, turned away and started to move through backyards.
It was broad daylight but it was cold, overcast, the air heavy with an impending rain that was going to be chilly – no one was out barbequing, mowing their lawn, gardening, playing with their dogs. That didn’t mean no one saw him. It was doubtful if they did they’d confront him. They’d call the police. Layne was counting on that. Confrontation would be bad, a waste of time. Cops he could handle.
He counted down the house numbers and as he did he thanked God that no one in this development had put up fences, undoubtedly an HOA restriction, open space was attractive, a variety of fencing not so much. Rosemary Avenue’s numbers started on the opposite end of the street, Rocky and Vera had done a drive through and reported they ended in house number two thirty-five. Two twenty-three was seven houses in, no cars in the drive and no movement they could see when they drove by.
Layne approached two twenty-three keeping out of sight behind a big pine tree. He skirted the tree and looked in the windows. Blinds and curtains pulled.
Fuck.
He waited seconds and did so as he watched for movement, the blinds flipping up or the curtains pulled back for someone to look out.
Nothing.
He moved around the tree and quickly to the house. Back to it then he ran bent double under the windows to the French doors that led to a low patio.
Curtains pulled on the doors, he moved to them and silently tried the doorknob.
Locked.
He crouched, pulling his kit out of his back jeans pocket, he picked the lock.