Finding Carly, page 28
He shivered at the negative thought of her lying somewhere, in the dark, hurt…or worse.
“She’s alive, she has to be,” he whispered in an agonized tone. His team was scrambling to find any scrap of information that could help them track her last steps. Slate was arguing with her cell phone provider, trying to convince them to tell him the last location where her phone pinged, to no avail. Alani still hadn’t answered the last time they called, Pid was trying to get access to traffic cameras, and the other guys were also on their phones, doing what they could to try to get a hold of Shawn’s friends to verify their whereabouts.
It all felt like too little, too late.
When Jag’s phone rang, he looked down, praying it would be Carly calling to tell him she was fine. That she’d gotten a flat tire and had no cell reception somewhere. It was almost crushing to see Baker’s name on his screen.
“Jag.”
“Gideon Sparks,” he said without preamble.
It took a moment for Jag’s brain to catch up with what his friend was saying. “What?”
“Gideon snatched her from a parking garage downtown. I finally reached Alani—her phone was off—and she explained the favor. Took a while, but I found her car on security cameras and watched Sparks knock her out and put her in his trunk.”
Jag gestured frantically to his teammates. “Fuck. What was the favor?”
“She was bringing food from Duke’s to the downtown Food For All. Even with all the people being around for the festival, Sparks grabbed her in a parking garage. No one else was around.”
“Shit! Has anyone talked to Sparks today?” Jag asked his teammates.
They all shook their heads.
“What’s going on?” Mustang asked. “Is it him?”
“Baker saw him take Carly on security feeds,” Jag said. “Baker’s headed downtown to where her car is located.”
“Tell him we’re splitting up. You, me, and Aleck will go to Sparks’s place. Pid will call Detective Lee. Midas and Slate will meet Baker at the parking garage. The zoo is closed right now, but if we don’t find Sparks, we’ll check in with his coworkers first thing in the morning when they open. And if we do find Sparks…we’ll take him to Slate’s house for a chat.” Mustang’s tone was deadly and determined.
It was a risk to basically kidnap a man so they could interrogate him, but everyone was done fucking around. They’d get Sparks to tell them exactly what he did with Carly, by any means necessary, then they’d get her back.
“I heard him,” Baker said in Jag’s ear. “We need Sparks alive if Carly isn’t with him,” he warned.
Jag nodded even as bile rose in his throat. “I know.” Too much time had passed. Carly had been snatched hours ago. When Carly had needed him most, he’d been clueless and sitting in a fucking meeting, his phone turned off. And now she was out there somewhere, with someone determined to do her harm. And on top of everything, it was fucking raining like a bitch again, after a brief break in the storm.
“Keep me updated,” Baker ordered.
“Will do. Thanks.” Jag owed the man. Again.
“Later,” Baker said, ending the connection.
Jag quickly told his teammates what Baker had said and he felt better at seeing the looks of determination on their faces. He was relieved Mustang was sending him to Sparks’s house. If Carly was found, hurt—or worse—he needed to be there.
Jag was more than frustrated.
He was in agony.
Last night, he’d been so sure they were on the verge of finding Carly. They knew who had taken her, what Sparks’s car looked like, and everyone was looking for her.
And yet here it was, almost ten o’clock the next morning, roughly twenty-four hours after she’d gone missing…and they were no closer to finding Carly or Gideon Sparks than they’d been last night.
Jag hadn’t slept. Neither had any of his friends. Even the women had pulled an all-nighter at Kenna’s condo, worrying and calling anyone they could think of to spread the word about their missing friend.
The Honolulu Zoo was opening in minutes, and he, Aleck, and Mustang were on their way. Jag was more than ready to talk to some of Sparks’s coworkers to see if they could get any more insight on the man. Baker had spent the night digging deep into the bowels of the Internet for every scrap of information about Sparks he could find.
What he’d discovered hadn’t made them feel any better. There had been a restraining order taken out on Gideon several years ago, but his last name was misspelled, which was why no one had found it before now. A nineteen-year-old girl, who’d grown up in foster care—and who looked eerily like Carly…blonde hair the same length, blue eyes—had requested the order after dating Gideon for a few months, then breaking it off. The order had claimed he was stalking her since their breakup, and she was scared for her life.
The restraining order even mentioned Shawn by name. The woman had also been scared of Gideon’s friend, of how much influence he had over her ex-boyfriend.
Baker also found out that Sparks and Keyes had spent a lot of time together in the weeks before Shawn died. Their phones had pinged in the same places almost every night, credit card receipts proved they’d eaten and drank at the same bars.
Baker had apologized to Jag over and over, but Jag didn’t blame the man for not finding the missing pieces before now. Sparks had hidden his tracks amazingly well. He was either extremely smart or very lucky.
But with every minute that passed, Jag’s anxiety rose. It had been too long since Sparks had grabbed Carly. It wasn’t likely she was still alive—and the thought made Jag want to throw up and fucking kill Sparks with his bare hands. The thought of him touching Carly was repugnant.
When Mustang pulled into the parking lot for the zoo, it was instantly apparent that something was going on. There were two ambulances and almost a dozen police cars in the lot, parked haphazardly.
Mustang had barely stopped his truck before Aleck and Jag jumped out and were running toward the entrance.
An officer stopped them and wouldn’t let them through the gates. Jag was about to lose his shit, and probably do something that would jeopardize his career at the same time, when Mustang held out his phone to the officer.
“Take it. It’s a Detective Makanui Lee. He wants to talk to you.”
The policeman looked confused, but thankfully took the phone from Mustang.
Jag barely held on to his composure.
After just seconds, the officer handed the phone back to Mustang and nodded, stepping back. “He authorizes you to go in, but says to stay out of the way,” he warned. “Don’t get involved in the current investigation.”
Jag still didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but he didn’t hang around to ask. All he cared about was getting to Sparks. He ran inside and headed for the lion habitat. It didn’t escape Jag’s notice, however, that it was the same direction where all the commotion seemed to be coming from.
He stopped short at the yellow police tape that had been strung outside the tall fences surrounding the lion enclosure. Aleck stopped an EMT who was headed back toward the parking lot with an empty gurney. “What’s going on?”
“Someone went insane and entered the enclosure. The lions apparently didn’t like someone encroaching on their space and…well, you can imagine what they did.”
Jag’s breath hitched in his throat. Not Carly. God, not the woman he loved.
“Is she alive?” Mustang asked, obviously on the same wavelength.
“It was a zoo employee, could tell by what was left of the uniform. Accessed the premises with his own key and security code, before opening hours. And no, he’s definitely not alive,” the EMT said with a shudder. “We could barely even tell it was a ‘he.’ Those lions were pissed way the hell off for some reason. I don’t know if they were provoked before he went in or what. Cops have already requisitioned the security cameras, so they can provide more info. Anyway, I’m guessing things are gonna be shut down here for a while. The other zookeepers are still trying to wrangle the agitated cats away from what’s left of their morning meal.”
The man was super chatty, which Jag was thankful for. This obviously wasn’t a normal call for him, and he was probably still trying to deal with what he’d seen.
The EMT walked away, and Mustang held up a hand. “We don’t know that it was Sparks.”
“Of course it was,” Jag said, his shoulders slumping. “Who else would it be?”
“But why?” Aleck interjected. “There has to be a reason he’d decide to kill himself. He was pretty fucking smart. He fooled Baker, the cops…all of us. Why would be take Carly, do whatever he did with her, then kill himself? He certainly wasn’t feeling guilty about what he did.”
A spark of hope flared within Jag. “The only reason I can think of for Sparks offing himself…is if he fucked up and she somehow got away.”
Mustang nodded. “I agree.”
“She’s alive,” Jag whispered, scared to say the words too loudly. “He fucked up, she got away, and he knew he was going to get caught.”
“And didn’t want to spend his life behind bars. Decided to go out his own way,” Aleck speculated with a nod.
“Probably trying to be more dramatic than Keyes,” Mustang said with disgust.
“Well, I’d say he accomplished that,” Aleck returned dryly.
“But where’s Carly?” Jag asked.
That was the million-dollar question. They might know who took her now, and from where, but not what Sparks had done with her.
Carly lifted her head and couldn’t hold back the moan. She hurt. All over. Her head was still throbbing and every muscle in her body screamed in pain as she moved. Pushing herself up, she immediately regretted it as her hand felt as if it were on fire. Looking down, she saw a slice through her palm that definitely needed stitches.
She vaguely remembered cutting herself with the knife as she’d sawed at the rope holding the weight to her body. She still had the remnants of said rope hanging off her ankle. She couldn’t tell what time it was, but the sun was almost fully over the horizon. She’d survived the night.
Smiling, despite the amount of pain she was in, Carly couldn’t help but feel overwhelming relief. Gideon might’ve kidnapped her, but she’d outsmarted him and escaped. She was damn proud of herself. Of course, she wasn’t out of danger, but as long as she didn’t have someone else determined to drug and drown her, she thought she was doing pretty well.
Sitting up and shifting on the uncomfortable lava rock under her ass, Carly assessed her situation. The island she’d found was nothing more than a jagged mass sticking up in the middle of the water. It was maybe fifty meters long and twenty meters wide. And it was covered in bird shit. There were no trees, no source of fresh water, nothing but birds staring at her accusingly, as if they were pissed she’d disturbed their peace.
The sky was overcast and it looked like it was going to start raining again at any second—but the best thing Carly had ever seen was the outline of a mountain in the distance. She wasn’t that far from land. She assumed she was looking at Oahu, but couldn’t be sure. If it had been a sunny day, there probably would’ve been lots of people on the water already, fishing, snorkeling, and simply enjoying a beautiful Hawaiian day. But because it was crappy out, Carly didn’t see anyone.
She couldn’t be bitter. The storm had saved her life last night. It seemed fitting that Gideon had lost her in a storm, when Shawn had failed at killing Kenna in the same kind of conditions.
Carly thought about getting back in the water and swimming to shore, but she knew distances could be deceiving, especially in this kind of weather. It could be one mile or ten, and while she might be able to make it a mile, there was no way she’d be able to go any considerable distance.
Her best bet was to stay put and wait for someone, anyone, to go by.
Then she had the awful thought that maybe Gideon was still out on the water looking for her. Wanting to make sure she’d died. The last person she needed to flag down was the man who wanted her dead.
Shaking her head, Carly refused to believe she’d made it this far, only to be recaptured. Gideon was probably back at home, thrilled that he’d succeed in finishing what Shawn had started. The man was certifiably insane. She hadn’t done anything to him—or Shawn, for that matter. There was absolutely no reason for Gideon to hate her so much.
But what was clear was that Shawn had been grooming him just as he’d once done to her. He obviously got off on manipulating people, and he’d taken Gideon under his wing and done the same, just in a different way. When she’d broken things off with Shawn, it had apparently angered Gideon just as much as it had her ex. They’d both taken her rejection as a personal affront. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but nothing about Shawn or Gideon did.
Carly scooted farther up on the rock and did her best to hobble to a flatter part of the island. It was excruciating to walk on the sharp rocks in her bare feet, but the alternative was her death, so she sucked it up and did what she needed to. The amount of bird crap was almost impressive. The stench, though, left a lot to be desired.
She was extremely thirsty, in pain, stuck on Bird Shit Island…but she was alive. Things could be far worse.
Carly settled down on a spot that seemed to have a little less bird crap than the rocks around it and hugged her knees to her chest. She didn’t care how long she had to sit here, she wasn’t going to die. No way. Not after everything she’d been through.
Kenna and the rest of the women were probably completely freaked out. Then her thoughts turned to Jag…and she almost cried. He was probably going out of his mind with worry. He’d move heaven and earth to find her. He and his team. She had no doubt they’d figure out what happened. She imagined their apartment being a kind of central hub for the search. The guys would all be stone-faced, concentrating on their phones and computers.
They’d track her movements. Alani would tell them that she’d been at Duke’s and had picked up the produce to bring to Food For All. They’d figure out that she never did drop off the food, and they’d find her car in the parking garage…but then what? How would they know Gideon was the one who took her? And how would they know he took her out on a boat?
Panic nearly overwhelmed her, but Carly shook her head. No, she had to stay positive. Jag was smart. One of the smartest men she knew. He and his teammates would find her. She just had to be patient.
Her mind strayed to what had happened to Jag when he was a kid. He must have been so terrified and confused every time his babysitter came over. But he ultimately didn’t give up. He’d been so strong, and Carly wanted to be just like him. Make him proud of her. And in order to do that, she had to stay alert so if a boat did go by, she could get their attention and get back to Jag.
As the minutes passed, it got harder and harder to be patient, to stay positive.
Trying to swim to shore felt more and more like the best option. The last thing she wanted to do was spend another night on this rock. Not that she remembered the first night, but still.
Just when she’d decided that she couldn’t wait anymore, that she was going to have to rescue herself and swim to Oahu, Carly heard something.
At first, she thought she was hallucinating. That it was just wishful thinking that had her hearing a motor.
Then she nearly panicked again. What if it was Gideon coming back? She was a sitting duck, and she knew without a doubt he wouldn’t mess around with a tranquilizer dart this time. He’d probably choke the life out of her before taking her back out to sea and making sure she sank to the bottom.
Through the misty morning, even as she tried to calm herself, Carly saw something orange and white cutting through the waves. It wasn’t coming toward her—which made her panic for an altogether different reason.
The Coast Guard boat was slowly moving through the water parallel to the island, as if it was looking for something…or someone? Carly barely dared to hope that maybe they were looking for her. Maybe they were just on a routine check of the waters around the island. But in the end, it didn’t matter what they were doing, as long as they found her.
Carly stood up, barely able to stay on her feet, and began waving her arms over her head and screaming as loud as she could. It was unlikely anyone would be able to hear her over the motor, the sound of waves against the rubber-hulled boat, but if there was even a one-percent chance they’d notice, she’d yell until she was hoarse if that was what it took.
For a terrifying moment, she thought the boat was going to keep on going. That whoever was onboard hadn’t seen or heard her.
Then, miraculously, the clouds parted momentarily—and sunlight shone on the rock. As if a flashlight was pointing straight down on the island where she’d been marooned.
The Coast Guard boat made a sudden turn…in her direction. Carly didn’t stop waving her arms and shouting, not until a loud air horn sounded from the boat. She swayed on her feet as the boat came closer and closer.
They’d seen her. Thank God!
Carly cried without any tears falling. She was too dehydrated. But she also couldn’t help smiling. She’d done it. She’d beat Gideon and Shawn. She wasn’t the pathetic bitch they thought she was. She might be younger, but that didn’t mean she was an idiot. Carly was proud of herself.
She dreaded what was sure to come when she got home. There would be interviews with the detective, probably reporters desperate to hear her story; she’d have to face Gideon in court, and she had a feeling she might relapse when it came to trying to gain back her independence.
But with Jag at her side, she could do anything.
Jag. God, she couldn’t stop thinking about how worried he had to be.
With that thought fresh in her mind, the first thing she said when a young man wearing an orange life jacket, blue hat, shirt, pants, and waterproof boots climbed out of the boat and came toward her was, “Call Jag!”
