Then he stopped.
He had August’s statement. August was the month when Tara Murdoch told Sully the party was held. It started with a photo shoot where they gave the girls champagne likely laced with Rohpynol or another fast-acting, date rape drug. She’d woken up blindfolded. A ball gag with a handkerchief stuffed in her mouth. She’d described what the gag felt like and he’d seen it. She’d been tied to the bed. She’d taken five men, none of whom she’d seen, one of whom he knew. She had no idea how much time each one had with her but she reported they took their time however a girl enduring that, five minutes could seem like five hours.
When it was done, Towers had made her warnings and they were good ones. None of the girls talked for fear it would happen again. Each of them had a younger sister. Each of them was told, they talked, they’d come back and their sisters would be accompanying them. Alexis didn’t fit this profile but Giselle and Tiffany did. The girls were told to tell their parents they were with each other. They did and held their secret until Tara spilled it in the interrogation room.
Hannah lost her mind. Summer faded into herself. And Tara built a wall.
And Harrison Rutledge had ordered himself a couple of drinks from the bar prior to his turn and the dumbfuck had paid for them on a credit card.
Layne stood, grabbing his jacket as he growled, “Let’s go.”
Ryker’s head shot back then he was up with Layne. “What’d you get?”
Layne didn’t answer, he had his cell phone out and he was out the door. Cal’s eyes came to him when Layne put the cell phone to his ear. He jerked his head to the door, Cal took his cell from his ear and moved with them. Dave didn’t miss a beat and kept talking into his phone.
Merry answered, “You got something, Tanner?”
“Get IMPD to get units to every exclusive hotel in Indy, starting with The Townsend. And tell them to go in soft,” Layne ordered.
“On it,” Merry replied and then he disconnected.
Layne led Ryker and Cal down the stairs.
*
“Stick with me,” Layne murmured as he drove through the parking garage.
“We should get inside,” Ryker hissed.
“Stick with me,” Layne repeated.
“Shit, this is shit, this is bullshit,” Ryker muttered.
“A woman like that is not gonna revisit the scene of her crime,” Layne explained. “Rutledge had his sick fun at The Imperial. Second top spot in Indy is The Townsend. She’s there and she’s the kind of woman who can sense heat. She’s gonna bolt. She’s gotta go down, brother.”
Then he saw it and braked.
Not the silver BMW, her sporty, red Mazda.
He put the car in neutral, set the brake and turned to Ryker.
“Knife,” he growled.
Ryker didn’t hesitate, his hand went to his belt, he popped the button on his huge-ass knife, yanked it out and handed it over.
Layne opened his door, ordering, “Stay here.”
He jogged quickly to the Mazda, motioning with flicks of his fingers, communicating to Cal. Cal nodded through his windscreen and passed the Suburban.
Layne didn’t watch to see where Cal went. He crouched by the back tire, thrusting Ryker’s knife into the rubber. He moved forward and took out the front tire. He jogged around the car and did the same to the other side. Then he jogged back to his truck.
He swung in, handed the knife to Ryker, pulled out his cell, put the car in gear, released the brake, located the pedestrian entryway to the garage and scanned for a spot with good visibility all at the same time he scrolled on his phone.
He hit go and put it to his ear.
“Yo,” Merry said quietly.
“You at The Townsend?” Layne asked, seeing his spot, he started maneuvering the behemoth to reverse in while still talking.
“Yes, just got here. This is it, brother. Management says three weeks ago they had an unusual reservation. One day, big money, an entire floor of suites cleared. They had to juggle but they did it. I’m in the security room, they have cameras on the halls. She’s got sentries. Two at the elevators. One outside each room. Three rooms. Two at the emergency exit. The hotel was told it was a VIP with stringent security and that they needed confidentiality and discretion which the hotel assured them they could provide. So we got seven boys, from what I can see by the bulges in their jackets, heavily armed. We don’t know if there are more in the rooms and the hotel didn’t clock them, considering the promise of discretion and all. IMPD is pulling together a team to take the top without collateral damage.”
“Three rooms?” Layne asked as he put the truck in neutral, set the brake and killed the ignition.
“Not good news, brother,” Merry answered and Layne’s neck got tight.
“What?”
“Wherever Tiffany went, she took her sister with her. She’s thirteen, Tanner.”
Jesus, Jesus, fuck.
He didn’t want to ask with Ryker at his side but he had to ask.
“Have the parties started?”
“Ryker with you?” Merry asked back.
“Yeah,” Layne answered.
“Then I’m not answering that question right now,” Merry replied.
Layne clenched his teeth and his chest seized. Alexis McGraw had been to his house. Ryker and Lissa sat with Layne and Rocky at the dining room table drinking beer and shooting the shit while Alexis and Seth, Keira and Jasper and Tripp and Giselle all lounged on the sectional, doing kid shit. Alexis was chock full of attitude, the good kind, though it had an edge, but underneath that, she was a sweet kid.
“You got eyes on her?” Layne asked.
Merry knew what Layne was asking. “Plainclothes everywhere, big man, but no one has seen Towers. Maybe she’s in one of the rooms. They’re scanning security footage now to see if she’s entered the hotel.”
“She’s somewhere. I have eyes on her car. A red Mazda, in the parking garage, not the hotel’s, across the street and just south. I’ve disabled the car. We’re on the third floor.”
“I’ll call that in.”