I didn’t bother stopping at the house, but simply hit the accelerator and headed around the block. The station was my next stop, but her Durango wasn’t parked in her reserved spot. I didn’t bother going inside either. I’d call there next, but first I wanted to check with Covie, so I steered myself toward the river.
Covie’s street was as quiet as Winn’s and my heart climbed out of my throat when I spotted her car parked outside his place. “Oh, thank fuck.”
Christ. I’d about lost my shit.
I hopped out of my truck and forced myself not to jog to his door. The doorbell got punched, not pressed, because as my blood pressure returned to normal, anxiety was replaced with anger.
There was no reason she shouldn’t have answered. Covie too.
When his footsteps sounded from beyond the threshold, I was practically shaking as he flipped the locks.
Except . . .
If she was inside, why was the dead bolt on?
“Griffin?” Covie cocked his head. “What are you doing here?”
She wasn’t inside. Fuck.
“Is it Winnie?” he asked, the color draining from his face.
“She’s not home. I tried calling you.”
“I fell asleep with the TV on. She left here hours ago to meet you for dinner.” He looked past my shoulder to her Durango. “I didn’t realize her car was still here.”
“Have you heard anything from the station? Was there an accident or something?”
“Not that I’ve heard. You’ve called her?”
“About a hundred times.” I dragged my hand through my hair.
It was probably nothing, but every cell in my body vibrated that something was wrong.
“Let me call the station.” Covie waved me inside, leaving me in the entryway as he rushed to the living room. The lamp beside his recliner was the only light on in the house. The TV was muted on the movie he’d been watching. His free hand trembled as he made the call. “Hi, this is Walter. I’m looking for Winslow. Is she at the station or out on a call?”
Say yes.
The panic in his gaze made my knees shake.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” He ended the call and shook his head. “She’s not there. Mitch is going to ask around and call me back.”
“I’m going to keep looking.” Maybe she’d gone for a walk. Maybe she’d been at the river and slipped. If her phones were wet, that would explain why she hadn’t called.
“I’ll come with you.” Covie followed me to the door, stepping into a pair of tennis shoes.
The darkness was coming faster than I liked. “Would she have walked somewhere? Maybe bumped into someone who needed help?”
“I don’t know,” Covie said, following me down the sidewalk.
We were feet away from my truck when a loud crash came from next door.
Our faces whipped to the Nigel house.
“What the—” Covie held up a finger. “Let me check on Frank.”
We didn’t have time to worry about fucking Frank. “Covie—”
“Two seconds. Maybe he saw her leave.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, following him across the lawn that separated their homes.
The garage door was open but the lights were off.
Frank sat on the concrete floor, one knee bent, the other leg straight and his foot tipped to the side like he didn’t have the strength to keep it upright. His back was against a tool bench, his face hidden in the shadows of the dark space.
“Frank?” Covie hurried toward his friend, bending low. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?”
Frank shook his head, his glassy eyes rolling more than blinking as he cast a glare my direction. “Get out, Eden.”
“Are you drunk?” Covie stood and frowned. “We’re looking for Winnie. Have you seen her?”
“This is his fault.”
Was he talking to me? “Excuse me?”
“I hate you.”
“The feeling is mutual. Now answer Covie’s question. Have you seen Winslow?”
“Winnie.” His expression went from cold and furious to sad and apologetic in a blink. He dropped his eyes to his lap. “Oh, God.”
“Hey.” Covie dropped to a crouch, putting a hand on Frank’s arm to give it a shake. “What’s going on?”
Frank’s shoulders curled in. “It was just for fun, Walter. It was never serious.”
“What was fun?” Covie asked him.
“We’re wasting time.” I wanted out of this goddamn garage. We should be searching for Winn, not listening to this asshole’s drunken babble.
“One minute, Griffin.” Covie held up a finger. “Frank, what are you talking about? Do you know where Winnie is?”
“You need to understand, Walter.” Frank straightened in a flash, grasping Covie’s forearms and holding him in place.
I took a step forward, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.
“Understand what?” Covie asked him.
“It was sex. Only sex. You know I like sex.”
Sex. With who? My frame locked. My hands balled into fists. If Frank had so much as touched a hair on Winn’s head, they’d never find his fucking body.
“What are you talking about, Frank?” Covie’s calm voice was a stark contrast to the fury that raged through my veins.
I clamped my molars together to keep quiet.
Frank wouldn’t say a goddamn word to me. Maybe, if we were lucky, he’d forget I was standing here, because all that mattered was Winn.
“The girls,” Frank whispered.
My heart lurched. The girls. There was no question who he was referring to. I knew, deep in my soul, exactly which girls he meant.
Lily Green. Harmony Hardt.
Where the fuck was my Winn?
“Frank.” Covie pulled his arms free of his neighbor’s hands. Then in a swift motion, moving faster than any man that age should be able to move, he was on his feet, hauling Frank up with him.
“Ah!” Frank cried as Covie shoved him into the tool bench.
“What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On?” Covie barked.
Frank collapsed into Covie’s shoulder, trying to hug him.
But Covie pushed him off, shoving him again. The tools on the bench rattled. “Talk. Now.”
“It’s an addiction. It’s not my fault. I like sex and that’s all it was. I swear.”
I gulped. “What’s he talking about, Covie?”
If Frank had raped Winn . . .
Red coated my vision and it took every ounce of strength to stand here and not move.
“Who?” Covie asked. “Lily Green?”
The guilt in Frank’s eyes was answer enough. “We kept it a secret. They were all secrets. We’d meet out of town at a hotel. Have some fun. That was it. Sex. They wanted it as much as I did.”
“What did you do to them?” The words were hard to form through my clenched jaw.
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything.” Frank’s eyes searched Covie’s. “You need to believe me. I didn’t do anything. I wouldn’t have hurt them.”
“They’re dead,” Covie spat.
“I know they’re fucking dead!” Frank’s roar filled the garage, bouncing off every surface.