Already Missing (Laura Frost FBI) - Page 62

She said the words with such a snap to them that they both immediately complied, digging out their cell phones. The one who got there first quickly stretched out his hand, and Laura grabbed it as the dial tone rang out.

“Hey, Tony.”

“Not Tony,” Laura replied. The voice sounded somewhat familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it. “This is FBI Agent Laura Frost. Your colleague just dialed you up for me. I need to speak to a real estate expert, and I’m told you’re related to one.”

“Yeah, my brother,” the officer replied. “Do you want me to bring him to the precinct? He should be just finishing up at work, he’s usually there late.”

Laura checked her watch. It was almost seven. Damnit. All that time they’d spent on Paul – bringing him in, getting his history and details sent through, preparing an interview strategy. They’d been playing into his hands the whole time. They had hardly any time left to find her.

“We’ll go to him,” Laura said. “Wait – your voice. You were the one who knew where to find the barn, on the radio?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then get to thinking while I’m driving over to your brother’s office. Call him and tell him to stay there, and to look up any properties he knows of either on the market or abandoned that would have a large basement space. Unfurnished, bare walls and concrete floor. Got that?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Laura hung up the phone, throwing it at the officer who had dialed for her, and cocked her head at Nate to indicate he should follow her as she dashed back outside to the car.

***

“We haven’t got a choice,” Laura said, grabbing one of the three pieces of paper off the table. “We have to go, and we have to go now.”

“I still don’t like splitting up,” Nate growled, but his words were falling on deaf ears. He took one of the other pages reluctantly, which left just one behind.

“You’ll have to cover the other one,” Laura said, looking at the officer whose help had brought them this far. His nametag read McCoy. “Your partner is still in the car?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, taking the last sheet smartly. “We’ll get there as soon as we can.”

“Make sure you do,” Laura said, but then thought better of her brash instruction. “And be careful. We have the guy in custody, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be danger around – especially if this is an abandoned property. Who knows what kind of repair it might be in?”

“Right,” he said, and then all three of them were heading for the door, leaving McCoy’s brother to watch them go with a bemused look on his face.

The man had come through in a big way. He’d found them a list of properties by the time they arrived, and Laura had been able to use the photographs to narrow it down. But it wasn’t clear enough. Basements with brick walls and concrete floors – they weren’t exactly uncommon.

She thought she’d picked out the right one. But she wasn’t sure enough to risk a woman’s life. That was why she was getting into the car alone, speeding off towards the property she thought fit best while Nate requisitioned the realtor’s car and McCoy went off in the other direction.

Three locations. Only three. And she had to hope to God that the realtor actually had the details of all the properties in Atlanta that did fit the bill, because if he didn’t, they were probably on a wild goose chase.

It felt like an absolute lifetime and also no time at all before her heart-racing drive through the darkening streets had her pulling up at the address her GPS indicated. She didn’t bother parking properly, simply slamming on the brakes and jumping out of the car. She saw the time on the car’s display before she shut it off. There were only a handful of minutes before eight. She didn’t have any time to lose.

She threw herself into the front door, hearing a groan of complaint from the wood. She didn’t have the keys. The realtor hadn’t been selling the property himself, just knew where to find the details online. They didn’t have time to wait for the keys. It was now or never.

Laura stepped back from the door, nursing an aching shoulder already, and drew her gun. She fired at the lock, then again until the force of the blow coupled with the location made it move on its hinges, telling her she’d done it.

She pushed through, leaving this door open in her wake as well as she ran into the house.

It was old, and big, and very dark. There were no streetlights shining in further than the two front rooms of the house, and the rest was plunged into blackness. Laura fumbled to grab her flashlight, remembering the floor plan she’d seen on the records. She finally got it turned on just as she reached the basement door, down the hall where she’d expected, and wrenched it open.

She clattered down the stairs, then stopped. It was huge down here. There were two doors leading down, she remembered – one from outside, one from inside. And the whole footprint was bigger than her entire apartment plus room for another. There were stone columns spaced throughout, holding everything up, and old storage racks, and sheets hanging where someone had started renovating but never finished...

Laura could hear her own breath panting, her own blood pounding in her ears. She could only see where the beam of light from her flashlight hit. Where was she? Was Laura in the wrong place?

She darted around a storage rack only to see nothing promising ahead. To the left, though, a sheet hung. Laura caught her breath. She hated this. Hated the way this felt like a horror movie. Like something was about to jump out at her.

She heard something and froze.

It came again.

Tags: Blake Pierce Thriller
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