The Lost Ones by Culver Chris

Author:Culver, Chris
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-11-17T00:00:00+00:00

23

Despite having stayed up well after midnight, George woke me up by whining from his pop-up crate just as the sun was rising. I rolled over and stared at him, and he vaulted to his feet, panting. My vision was fuzzy, and my head throbbed. I felt dehydrated. George barked and seemed to grin at me.

“I love you, but you’re an asshole,” I said, swinging my legs off the bed. George’s grin broadened. I unzipped his kennel, walked him through the house and let him into the backyard. Afterward, I went back to bed and woke up again two hours later, feeling only slightly more refreshed.

No one had texted or called while I was asleep, so I called Kelsie Bennett. Her phone went to voicemail—which was full. Hopefully, she’d call me later if she had any updates. I might even stop by her house.

Then again, maybe I shouldn’t. The kidnappers had made their demands, and the local police had kicked me to the curb. Lieutenant Batista—or maybe Special Agent Hubbard—would bring in technical experts to sort through the kidnapper’s phone calls and track down his phone, a task for which I had no expertise. The Bennetts no longer needed me to pressure the police, either. The media would do that. If anything, Kelsie needed a friend and a seasoned negotiator. I wasn’t a negotiator, I barely knew her, and I had never met her daughters, which meant I was superfluous.

I stood and made a pot of coffee and considered my day. It’d be nice to see the beach again before I left Florida. After everything I had been through, I deserved a relaxing day in the sun. It’d be a fitting way to end my trip. Florida had a lot to offer, but it wasn’t home. I needed to move on.

Then I looked at my purse and sighed. Navel-gazing and sightseeing were fun, but they hadn’t been my only reasons for coming to Florida. I came here to find Douglas Claypool, a task I had barely started. For a few moments, I read through my notes, familiarizing myself with the investigation so far. I still had work to do.

Alice, Douglas’s wife, owned a Honda Accord. The address on her personal property tax bill was for an apartment in Tallahassee. The drive would take an hour, but that was my best lead. I went out to the yard and called the dog, his leash in hand.

“Dude,” I said, hooking my leash onto his collar. “How do you feel about a walk and a drive?”

He didn’t know the word drive, but George knew walk. He barked, and a grin split his face. It was a simple but joyous life he led.

We walked long enough to stretch our legs but came home before I sweat through my shirt. Then I changed, and we drove to Tallahassee. George snored from the back seat the entire drive. Years ago, before he entered my life, the sound might have annoyed me. Now, it was a comforting, familiar part of my world.

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