Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
"So take every tip seriously. Because she's going to try to get herself out of this."
"Okay," Lloyd said. "We set up a task force. I will make sure they are writing down all the leads, not just the most likely ones for us to run down. If you think of anything else..."
"I will let you know," I agreed, nodding.
With that, he was gone, and we were left standing there, all of our minds racing.
"Well, this is an awkward silence," Bellamy declared, rocking back on his heels.
"Finn..." Quin started.
"Don't. I don't want to fucking hear it right now," I snapped.
"Finn, stop," Quin demanded in a sharp tone, one that brooked no argument. "I don't care about that right now," he explained. "But if you want us to help, we need some details."
Right.
I needed all the help I could get.
Poppy needed us.
So I followed them into Quin's office, and I broke down everything I knew.
Gunner was out first. Sure, he was known as The Ghost. He was good at making people disappear. But he was also pretty good at finding them as well.
"I will call in Lincoln, Kai, and Smith to hit the streets, talk to some contacts," Quin said, giving me a reassuring nod as I paced his office. "And Hold...okay," he said, realizing Holden had followed Gunner out. "I guess he will be knocking heads together. I will take Bellamy with me to talk to the local organizations, telling them to keep an eye out."
"The fuck am I supposed to do?" I said, shaking my head.
My skills were cleaning up evidence.
Fucking useless in this sort of situation.
"You hang here with Nia to give her some direction since you know the woman best," he said, and I was pretty sure the words were a little pointed, but I also knew Quin enough to know that, in a time like this, he wasn't going to hold it against me. He just wanted to find Poppy too. He would deal with me later.
"Fine," I grumbled, feeling like I was going to be useless, and a pain in Nia's ass, but also knowing there really wasn't much else for me to do. I wasn't good at tracking like Gunner, or at knocking heads like Holden, and I wasn't anywhere near as personable as Quin and Bellamy.
Once everyone else headed back, I made my way toward Nia's office. Which she was now going to be sharing with Amita until the addition got finished.
"Unless you are bringing me a cup of coffee, do not come in here just to pace," she scolded as soon as my foot crossed the threshold.
I could do coffee.
At least it made me useful for two minutes.
Who the hell would hurt Poppy?
Even if she had some crazed fans, it made no sense why they would want to hurt her.
Then again, didn't it happen more than a few times that a mega-fan shot their favorite celebrity for seemingly no reason?
She wasn't shot, though.
If she'd been shot, someone would have heard it, would have seen it.
Her car being missing said someone likely used it to transport her to a second location.
My stomach knotted at that, knowing the only purpose of a second location was to rape, torture, and murder someone.
But no.
No.
If anyone could delay a sticky situation, it was Poppy. If there was ever a woman who would fight tooth and nail, it was her. Hell, I was sure she even knew how to try to deescalate a situation, connect with her attacker, bide herself some time.
Her work was to sift through all these old cases to see what might have made a difference, what could possibly have helped. She'd spent countless hours analyzing the minds of these kidnappers and killers.
She was still out there, still trying to survive.
I had to believe that.
Because my mind refused to accept the opposite.
"What are you working on?" I asked, dropping her coffee down on the desk.
"The cameras. This town is full of cameras. Traffic ones, ones at storefronts, ones on houses. It might take a bit to get into them, but I can do it. And once I do, I will see that car of hers go off in some direction or another. I just need a couple minutes of you not breathing down my neck," she said, shooing me away.
Alone, I did the only thing I could do, I went to my office, and started stalking the other true crime content creators. I checked the comments on Poppy's case for any possible leads that would make more sense to me than the cops.
But an hour later had me nowhere but in several comment fights with assholes who were glad Poppy was taken.
Tossing a paperweight across the room, I let out a string of curses at the whole situation.
This wasn't supposed to be happening.
None of this should have happened.