Page 12 of Lost Lake
Gabe had to admit Jude’s idea was a good one, even if the two of them had little in common. Jude was raised in a wealthy family until they’d disowned him. He chose to be an FBI agent when they wanted him to follow in their footsteps into a lucrative career. The one thing they did share—both were rejected by family. At times that shared experience helped them understand each other.
Besides, it didn’t mean Gabe had to follow Jude’s suggestions, but at least he wouldn’t let his emotions make him do something he’d regret. “Works for me.”
Surprise crossed Jude’s face, and he held out a fist to Gabe. “We’ll be the dynamic duo. No one can stop us.”
Gabe bumped Jude’s fist.
Nolan’s frown disappeared, but tension remained in his shoulders. “Let’s also agree that if any of us see you hindering the investigation, we’ll tell you about it, and you’ll back down.”
“I’d be glad to have you call me on things, but I won’t back down unless you convince me it’s better for Kenna or Lucy.”
Nolan gave a solemn nod and took his seat.
Consensus reached, Gabe let his shoulders relax. “Let’s start with making a list of registered sex offenders in the area and getting out to question them.”
“I’ll make the list,” Hayden said. “Then depending on the number of suspects we find, we can split them up so we can question them as fast as possible.”
Gabe appreciated their computer expert stepping forward without being asked. “That’s a great start.”
Nolan nodded. “We have to assume El is doing or has done the same thing, and we don’t want to step on her department’s toes.”
“I’m done playing nice, but I won’t back down if I think we have an issue with one of them,” Jude said.
“I wouldn’t expect you to, but we could dialogue with El or Mina before you go full pursuit of the guy.”
“I can coordinate with them,” Gabe said. “But if in doubt, we’ll err on the side of taking action. This investigation is different for us. We’ve never searched for a young child and certainly not one whose mother had been murdered. So we don’t wait. Not with a child. Every minute matters to find heralive. In only a few hours, we may be looking at something very different.”
The room went quiet and somber. Too somber. The kind of emotions that stopped action.
Gabe was setting the tone. He pulled his shoulders back. “Just keep me updated. We also have to assume that El made an immediate call to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children.”
A car horn blared outside.
Gabe jumped and hated that something so simple had startled him. But how could it not? This was El’s signal letting them know she’d arrived and needed someone to let her in.
Soon he’d have fresh information on two of the most important people in his life. One was already dead, and El could be coming to tell them the other one had died too.
3
In the Lost Lake Locators’ parking lot, El killed her engine but left her hand resting on the keys. She checked her watch. Nearly two forty-five a.m.
Fatigue gnawed at her, urging rest, but exhaustion wasn’t what kept her sitting there. She didn’t want to go inside. Didn’t want to see Gabe’s grief again under harsh lights with nowhere to hide.
Lucy was counting on her, though. She couldn’t waste time sitting in her car because she was afraid of Gabe’s response. Of her old memories. Of losing control of emotions she’d kept sealed for years.
She forced herself out and crossed the cracked concrete to the rundown inn Nolan had purchased as company headquarters and the team members’ home. Perched on an ocean cliff, the building sagged with neglect, its faded sign bearing the team name and logo.
The door opened. Green paint flaked loose and drifted down like insects.
Still wearing damp clothes from the search for Lucy, Reece stood in the doorway. “Welcome. Everyone’s in the conference room.”
“You haven’t changed clothes,” El said.
Way to state the obvious.
El always felt self-conscious around Reece, who somehow managed to look runway-ready even now. El wore no makeup at work, her hair scraped into a bun, a few strands escaping. Add to that unremarkable suits and collared blouses. Nothing feminine enough to invite criticism or dismissal in a male-dominated profession. Especially not in a town this small.
“I wanted everyone to have something warm to drink first. Come in, and I’ll be right back.” She bolted down the hallway.
