Sex Retreat(75)
“Where are you, Ansley?”
“At your house.”
“And you said you tried to call Trixie?”
“I’ve been trying to call her all night. All my guys are at a food show in Atlanta. Kimberly is at Jason’s and I’m locked out so I had a cab drop me off here and—”
“The back door key is in the large potted plant on the porch,” Brock interrupted her. “When did you try Trixie last?”
“A few minutes ago. When was she supposed to be here?”
“I would’ve assumed hours ago,” Brock said. “You might say we had a small disagreement. Let me see if I can reach her. Sober up, Ansley. I have a bad feeling about this.”
He disconnected the call and dialed Trixie’s number. He was sent straight to voicemail. He disconnected again and called Ansley.
“Did you get her?”
“No. Go upstairs and make sure she isn’t home.”
“I’m inside the house. Hang on.”
“Ansley, hurry.” Brock rushed into Mitch’s room and turned on the light. Rory was asleep on a small corner sofa and Mitch was sprawled out on his bed. “Get up. It’s Trixie.”
Rory rubbed his eyes with his fists. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s not home yet,” Brock said, certain Ansley would confirm as much in a matter of seconds.
“What do you mean, she isn’t home yet?” Mitch asked, reaching for his phone. “It’s four o’clock in the damned morning.”
“And if someone hadn’t decided to piss her off, I’d be sound asleep with Trixie in my arms right now!” He marched out of the room. “Ansley, are you still there?”
“Brock, she isn’t here.”
“Okay, listen. Keep trying her. We will, too. You need to go ahead and call Kane and tell him what’s going on. Trixie left here between seven and nine o’clock. She should’ve been there between ten and twelve.”
“She would’ve been here,” Ansley said, an obvious slur to her words. “She would’ve gone straight to the house and picked up Caz and Winter.”
“Of course,” Brock said, releasing a sigh of relief. “That’s probably where she is.”
“Uh, I don’t think so. Mom is remodeling. She is driving everyone bonkers and no one can stand to be in that house right now except the kids. Trixie didn’t stay there.”
“Just check!” He disconnected the call as he became frantic all over again. “Mitch, call the police station and see if Cash slipped through the system somehow.”
“Rory’s already on it,” Mitch said, tilting his head at Rory who was visibly seen through the windows pacing the back deck.
Brock stilled almost immediately. Rory threw up his hand, quickened his pace, and screamed bloody hell. “Just who the hell do you think you’re messing with, buster? I’ll ask Kane Cartwell to place a call and we’ll have your job and your superior’s job!”
Rory rejoined them in the apartment. He was still on the phone.
“What is it?” Brock asked.
Rory held up one finger. His nostrils flared. He punched at the wind then ran splayed fingers through his hair. “You listen to me, asshole. I gave you the description of the car. I gave you our plates. You’d better call me back within an hour and tell me some good news. And if Cash Whitehead has laid one hand on her pretty little head, I swear to you, I’ll come find you and when I do, it won’t be a good day at the police station. Do you understand?”
A beat later, he said, “I don’t care if I’m threatening your wife while she’s in labor, damn you! Find Trixie Cartwell Sheldon or I’ll be a thorn in your ass every day for the rest of your miserable life! Do you understand?”
“Damn,” Mitch said. “Rory has turned into a carbon copy of you.”
“Save the sarcasm,” Rory said, glaring at Mitch and ending his call. Turning his attention to Brock, he said, “Whitehead was released into his brother’s custody. His brother took him to meet his personal chauffeur who in turn called some rookie cop to let him know where he’d taken him.”
“Where?” Brock was almost afraid to ask.
Rory frowned. “Brock, Cash was dropped off here, at the lodge, at seven thirty this evening.”
“That means he was either in Trixie’s vehicle or one of the camp trucks.” Mitch grabbed a set of keys and rushed to the door. “Let me check and see if we’re down one truck.”
“Hurry,” Brock said, punching in numbers. “Time is of the essence.”
Rory slammed his fist against the wall. “Time would’ve been on our side if we’d gone after her right after she left. Now, it may be too late.”