“I’m looking for Jimmy Crocket. I was told he works here.”
One of the other women sitting to the right pulled off her eyeglasses and said, “We only have one man who works here, and his name is Corey Moran.”
“Corey Moran works here?”
“That’s right. Do you know him?”
“I know of him,” Sawyer said, her mind swirling with speculation and ending up in a black hole since no logical connection formed.
“He’s been working here longer than any of us. If he’s not here, he’s at home.”
“He’s good at what he does,” the silver-haired woman said, “which is why he can work wherever he chooses.”
Sawyer felt completely off her game. Wanting to make sure they were talking about the same person, she pulled out her phone and showed the woman the picture Aria had taken. “Is this Corey Moran?”
The woman leaned closer for a better look. “Yep. That’s him, but it’s awful blurry.” She picked up a framed picture on her desk and handed it to Sawyer. “Here’s a better picture of the gang. That was before he grew his hair out.”
Sawyer felt sick to her stomach. She was pretty sure that was the face of the man she’d seen leaving the trailer park. How could that be? Nothing made any sense. She handed back the picture. “Is he expected in today?”
The silver-haired lady shrugged. “He comes and goes. I haven’t seen him in weeks.”
“I saw him two days ago,” one of the others said. “Do you want to leave a message for him?”
“No, that’s okay. Thank you.”
The minute Sawyer stepped outside, she moved away from the studio windows looking out to the street and leaned her back against a brick wall. She didn’t like the funny feeling swirling inside her.
Think, Sawyer, think. Start from the beginning. They met at the shelter when Corey Moran brought in a dog.
A lost dog.
Nick Calderon had a dog.
She needed to go to the shelter and talk to Aria right away.
Sawyer walked into the shelter and rushed over to the counter where Tiffany was doing paperwork.
“Is Aria here?” Sawyer asked.
Tiffany looked up and her eyes went wide. “Whoa! What happened to you?”
“It’s a long story.” Sawyer looked around. “Is Aria walking the dogs?”
“No, she went to lunch with that handsome new boyfriend of hers.”
Sawyer did her best to remain calm. “Any idea where they went?”
“No. Sorry.”
Sawyer’s heart was racing. “Speaking of her new boyfriend. He brought in a dog, is that right?”
“Yes. His name is Duke. Funny you should mention Duke, because we just found him a forever home.”
“Does every dog that comes in get checked to see if it has a microchip?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Did Duke have one?”
“I can check right now.” Tiffany skimmed the papers in front of her. She looked up and frowned. “Looks like Duke got missed. It happens. In fact, I remember that being one of our busier days.” She opened a drawer and grabbed an object that looked to Sawyer like a magnifying glass.
Sawyer followed Tiffany down the aisle lined with cages. Each cage had a tiny chalkboard strapped to it. Tiffany stopped at the cage with the name Duke written on the board.
Sawyer watched Tiffany put the scanner at the dog’s head and slowly scan side to side all the way to the tail. She made several passes. It wasn’t until she scanned the dog’s neck that Tiffany said, “Oh, my goodness.” She quickly locked the cage, and Sawyer followed her back to the counter.
“What did you find?”
“Give me just a moment,” she said. “Duke has been chipped, and now I need to look the number up on the registry.” It wasn’t long before she had the owner’s name: Linda Calderon.
Sawyer ran out the door without saying goodbye. Once she was in her car, she was shaking so badly she had to count to ten to calm herself.
She called Aria again, but there was no answer. She sent a text asking her to call, told her it was an emergency.
And then she called Lexi.
“Where are you?” Lexi asked. “I thought you would be here by now. We have a lot to discuss.”
“I need a favor,” Sawyer said. “I’ll explain later, but I need your help.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“I don’t have my laptop with me, but I need to know if a person named Jimmy Crocket had his name legally changed.”
“Give me a second.”
Sawyer could hear papers rustling and then fingers clacking away on the keyboard. Seconds felt like hours as she imagined Corey Moran taking her sister home with him. The thought of Aria being taken to his basement or tied up in some sketchy bedroom made her feel sick to her stomach.
“Jimmy Crocket is now Corey Moran. Do you need anything else?”
“An address. I need his address.”
“Are you okay?”
“I just need an address,” Sawyer told her.
“Okay. Okay.”
Minutes later, Sawyer was on the road, headed for a town house located a few miles away.
Corey Moran was the same man she’d chased after when she’d gone to see Aston Newell at the auto shop—his light-brown hair blowing back behind him.
She’d seen him again at the trailer park. He’d looked right at her.
If he’d hurt Aria, she’d never be able to forgive herself for not putting two and two together soon enough.
The town house was located on T Street between Ninth and Tenth. She parked as close to the place as she could, then shut off the engine, readied her pepper spray, and ran a half block to his place. She rushed up the stairs to the patio and knocked on the door to the right. “Aria! Are you in there?”
Corey Moran opened the door, and she shoved her way past him.
“What the hell—”
She whipped around, her teeth gritted as she aimed the canister of pepper spray at his face. “Where’s my sister?”
He raised his hands in self-defense. “Your sister?”
“Aria. Where is she?”
“Oh,” he said. “Aria and I had lunch at the Burger Patch on K Street. When we parted ways, she told me she was going home.”
“I know what you did,” she said, not realizing how stupid she’d been to confront a possible killer until that very moment. She took a step backward, her hand shaking.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“That dog you brought to the shelter, the shelter where you met my sister, had a microchip.”
“I see.”
Palmer always said she reacted before thinking. He was right. She considered pushing past him and rushing out the door, but what if he was lying and Aria was inside? She turned and ran to the back of the house, calling Aria’s name.
“She’s not here,” he said, following as far as the kitchen. “I would never hurt your sister.”
Sawyer was in the bathroom, her chest tight and her nerves frayed as she yanked the plastic curtain hanging over the bathtub to the side.
Nothing. Her emotions were running high, and she felt on the brink of crying with relief. She checked the bedroom closet next. Nothing there.