“You think you have this all figured out, don’t you?” Carl says. “Calling the police. Trying to retrace her steps and mine.” He laughs evilly. “By the time you find her, it’ll be too late.”
“Why don’t you tell me what I’m missing, Carl, since I’m such a dumb fuck?” My training kicks in and I do my best to level my voice while wishing I could reach into my phone and strangle this asshole.
“You’re never going to find her,” he taunts. “You know she’s scared of the dark?”
What the . . . How does he know?
“What did you do with Delilah?” I ask, my voice explodes with fury.
“And why should I tell you anything? She doesn’t belong with you. Delilah is and will always be mine.”
“Where is she?”
I try my hardest to detect any background noise on his end, but all I hear is the street noise around me and the cackling of the police car radios in the distance. Jackson turns and quickly runs to Detective Solis to inform him of the phone call and they’re back in a matter of seconds.
“She’s mine! Do you hear me? Mine!” he screams.
“What have you done with Delilah? Tell me, Carl,” I demand through clenched teeth.
“If I can’t have her, you can’t either.”
“Carl,” I warn.
“My name is not Carl, Saint Clair.” His voice is filled with saccharine.
“Then who the fuck are you, asshole?”
The line goes dead and the fire raging through my veins is a full-on inferno.
My phone rings again. “I’m done playing with you, asshole! Where the fuck is she?” I scream into the phone.
“Brody? It’s . . . it’s me, Sydney.” Her voice is soft and trembling.
“Sydney, I’m sorry,” I say, immediately calming my voice.
“You need to come to the house immediately.”
“What’s going on?”
“I just got home from dinner with Levi . . . and the house, somebody broke in and went through everything . . . I found Serena . . . she’s hurt . . . There’s blood everywhere. Someone stabbed her.”
“Is Delilah there?” I ask.
“No. I called the police and they’re on their way. They told me not to touch anything . . . but whoever it is left something for you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a cell phone with a picture of Delilah . . .” Sydney sobs. “Brody . . . she’s . . . I can’t tell if she’s still alive.”
“I’m on my way.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Brody
After LAPD and Detective Solis finish processing the crime scene at the house, I survey the debris and straighten the tossed furniture.
Delilah’s projects are torn into pieces. Her sandals she wore to the beach when she met Jerick and when I finally taught her how to swim are in the corner of the room. I grab her Chiefs sweatshirt draped over the couch and breathe her in.
How can my heart hurt and be numb at the same time?
My grip is tight on the note Todd left behind along with the phone he called me from. Rage courses through my veins as I stare at the screen. Todd took a photo of Dee and left it here for me to mull over along with this letter. I read it again, hoping for a clue, a sign from God, or an epiphany of some sort to direct me to where my Delilah is.
My finger glides over the screen to zoom in on her face. Delilah’s eyes are shut. There are scrapes on her cheeks and blood on the cloth gagged over her mouth. Strands of her hair tangle over part of her face. And a ring is placed on her third finger.
My muscles are tense as worry gnaws at me. And all I can think about is taking off the cheap ass ring from her finger and having Todd choke on it.
“Fuck!” I yell, pulling my hair as I glance at the time. It’s oh-three-hundred and we have no leads. Not a damn one.
Jackson’s been reviewing the drone’s footage on the tablet he retrieved from my townhome and the other CCTV footage he received from Detective Solis.
Mark and Charlie are now helping from Virginia. Charlie called in favors with a few connections here in Los Angeles and was able to get more footage from the street cams, which are choppy at best.
“What time is Dylan getting there?” Drake asks with concern in his voice as I hear papers shuffling.
“He should be here shortly.”
“I fucked up.” There’s guilt in Drake’s voice, just like when he told me about Delilah being locked in the crate playing hide-and-seek. “Apparently, he was released on good behavior and attending rehabilitation classes. I should have been paying closer attention.”
“How are your parents holding up?”
“Franny is with them right now. They just want her back.”
“I do too,” I say.
“Find her, Brody. Don’t stop looking until you do.”
“I will. There’s an APB out and as soon as I get a hit, you’ll be the first person I call.”
“I’m on my way to the airport. I should be there in a few hours.” He takes in a deep breath. “Keep me posted.”
“All right . . . see you soon.”
I scrub my face after ending the call with Drake as acid eats at my stomach.
Sydney and Levi appear from the kitchen with cups of coffee.
“Brody, I found these in Dee’s room.” Sydney hands me several envelopes. There’s sadness and worry in her red-rimmed eyes as her lips quiver. “Not sure if they mean anything . . . they’re from Todd.”
“Thank you,” I tell her as I take the papers. “I will find her if it’s the last thing I do.”
She nods as she wipes a tear from her cheek. “Please . . . I don’t know what to think.” She clutches her stomach. “I’m scared, Brody. What if—”
“She’s not. Delilah’s alive. You understand?” I say as I wrap my fingers around her wrist and cutting off her train of thought. I wish Sydney had never seen the photo of Delilah on the phone Todd left behind.
Sydney nods as she clutches her blouse. “I just want her back.”
“Me too.”
Levi clears his throat then speaks, “We’re heading to the vet to check on Serena.”
“How is she?” I ask.
“She’s stable and will be there a couple of nights.”
“That’s good.”
“Dee loves that dog and Serena hated Todd. Dee came to California to get away from that shitbag because she feared him and what he’s capable of,” Sydney says softly, tears welling in her eyes. “Todd is pure evil.”
“I’m glad you weren’t home.” I place my hand on her arm for reassurance.
“Thank fucking god for that,” Levi says, wrapping his arm around Sydney’s shoulders before kissing her on the cheek. “One more thing, if this jerkoff wants any kind of ransom, let me know. I want to help in any way I can. I may play a cop on TV, but I am nowhere qualified to do what you guys do.”
I glance at Jackson talking on the phone in a hushed tone. “I don’t think this asshole wants money. He’s obsessed with her. And idiots like him want what they think they have power over.”