CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Miami, Florida
To say Jasmine DeGray was worried would be an understatement. She was terrified and rightfully so if she believed the detective seated on the other side of the large contemporary coffee table. She had stopped crying, but her swollen eyes couldn’t seem to focus. She couldn’t stop her imagination from running wild, envisioning all the horrific things the kidnappers could do to her beautiful Leila.
A pang of guilt rushed through her. Why had she said yes? If she had said no to the sleepover, Leila would still be here, not God knows where.
Oh my God! What have I done?
Chris’s big arms around her shoulders did nothing to appease the monsters running loose in her head. She started sobbing again and buried her face in her husband’s shirt.
“Can’t you see she’s had enough? Can’t you come back later, Detective?” she heard him say.
“I wish I could, Mr. Moon. Believe me, I know how hard this is. But the first forty-eight hours are the most crucial. This is when the trail is freshest.”
“I—” Moon started, but Jasmine squeezed his leg and sat straighter.
“It’s okay, Chris,” she said. “The detective’s right.”
She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Ask away.”
“How long has Leila been friends with Sophia?”
“A year, maybe less. They got closer a couple months ago.”
“What changed their relationship?”
Why was the officer probing in that direction? What did this have to do with anything? The detective must have sensed her concerns because he said, “Trust me, Ms. DeGray. This is important.”
“Leila decided to invite her to a home game,” she said.
“The Miami Dolphins, right?”
“Chris has ten tickets per game that he gives away to friends and family members,” she explained.
The detective wrote something in his notebook and switched his attention to her husband. “Mr. Moon, did you ever invite Sophia’s father to a game?”
“I did, once. Why?”
“Do you know who he is?”
“We aren’t friends per se, but he seems like a nice guy. He always takes great care of Leila when she’s there, you know?”
“Of course. Have you ever been to his residence?”
“Once or twice to pick up Leila,” Moon replied.
“Mr. Moon, I have to ask, do you know who Tony Garcia is? I mean, do you know what he does for a living?”
Moon shook his head. “I never asked. But he’s definitely wealthy.”
“You never thought about Googling the guy before sending your daughter for a sleepover?”
Jasmine understood this wasn’t a question, and she didn’t appreciate the detective’s tone. Her husband clearly didn’t either because he bolted off the sofa and was almost on top of the detective when Jasmine yelled at him to stop.
“Chris!”
Her husband stopped, but he pointed a finger toward the detective. “Say what you have to say, and be done with it,” he growled.
The detective had retreated deeper into the sofa. He raised his hands in surrender.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be rude to you or your wife. But Tony Garcia? He’s the head of the most influential crime syndicate in Florida. Didn’t you know that?”
The detective’s words echoed in Jasmine’s head. Tony Garcia. Crime syndicate.
Suddenly, she became dizzy, and the air, like the hope of finding her daughter alive, seemed to have been sucked out of the room. How was she supposed to know that Sophia’s father was that Tony Garcia? There were dozens of Tony Garcias in Miami alone.
Because you’re her mom, and a good mom is supposed to protect her child.
Jasmine swallowed hard. She could feel the tears coming, clogging her throat and blurring her vision. A soft cry escaped her lips as guilt overwhelmed her. Then she thought of her ex-husband, and all the bad memories she associated with Pierce came back. The infidelities, the empty promises, the lies—his goddamn job was still ruining their lives all these years later.
She had understood his motive to join the DEA. Hell, she had even encouraged him to become a special agent. She knew how close Pierce had been to his younger brother, Jake. His death had shaken Pierce to his core. If joining the DEA could somehow help Pierce cope with his loss, then so be it. What she hadn’t signed up for was the two years of undercover work he’d agreed to without discussing it with her. During those two years, she had seen her husband for a grand total of forty-two days. That hadn’t been enough to maintain a healthy relationship, but she had never lost faith, hoping that once his assignment was over, he would return to her and they could once again be a family.