Golden Trail (68 page)

“Girl stuff?” he repeated and he watched his
woman’s lips form a small smile.

“Yeah, see, she’s a girl and I need to ask
her girl stuff,” Tripp said.

“What kind of girl stuff?” Layne asked.

“The kind where she’d tell me why Giselle
wasn’t out for pizza last night and why she isn’t textin’ me. That
kind. I figure she’s playin’ hard to get. She’s shy but she goes
out for pizza, everyone does. I used to see her there all the time
and we’ve been hangin’ the last coupla Fridays. She wasn’t out last
night and she always returns my texts and she isn’t so… is Rocky
there?”

While his son spoke, Layne’s body, which had
relaxed, got tense then he sat up, taking Roc with him. She got
tense against him and her arm didn’t leave his gut as she pressed
tight against his side.

“Yeah, Tripp, Roc’s here but I wanna know
about Giselle. When’s the last time you saw her?” Layne asked.

Tripp was silent and Layne felt Rocky’s body
go still.

“Tripp,” Layne said carefully, “when was the
last time you saw her?”

“At school yesterday,” Tripp stated
quietly.

“Was she at the game last night?” Layne
pushed.

“Don’t know,” Tripp answered and Layne
looked at Rocky.

“You see Giselle at the game last night,
baby?”

Rocky stared him in the eyes then shook her
head.

Layne went back to Tripp. “You talk to her
at school yesterday?”

Tripp hesitated a beat then answered, “No,
she was bein’ weird. Kinda closed off. Avoiding me. I thought
–”

Layne cut him off. “Text me her home
number.”

“Dad, do you think –”

“Do it, Pal, now, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tripp whispered.

“I got this covered, Tripp, okay?” Layne
assured gently. “Me and Roc got this covered. It’ll be okay. I’ll
call you but before you hang up, I wanna know you know your old man
has this covered.”

“I know.” Tripp was still whispering.

“It’ll be okay.”

“Okay, Dad.”

“Text me the number.”

“Right.”

“Talk to you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, later, Dad.” He was talking quickly,
in a hurry to get the number to Layne.

So Layne said without delay, “Later,
Pal.”

He flipped his phone shut and Rocky moved
slightly away from him but when he looked at her, her eyes were
drilling into him.

“What?” she asked sharply.

“Get dressed, baby, I need you to call
Giselle Speakmon’s parents. Find out if she’s actin’ okay.”

“Why?” Her voice was still sharp.

“She’s cut Tripp out. Sudden. She –” Layne
started to explain but didn’t finish because Rocky was on the move.
She threw the covers back, jumped out of bed and ran to the
bathroom.

Layne’s phone chimed in his hand. He flipped
it open and saw Tripp sent him Giselle’s home number and cell
number.

Layne got out of bed, grabbed his jeans,
tugged them on and then followed Rocky to the bathroom only for her
to come out before he got there. She skirted him and went directly
to her underwear on the floor.

Layne turned to face her while he advised,
“Sweetcheeks, brush your teeth, wash your face, make coffee.
Settle, sort your head out before you make the call.”

“They got to her,” Rocky hissed while she
tugged on her panties under her big nightshirt. Then her head flew
back and her blue eyes pierced him. “We waited too long.”

“We don’t know that,” Layne replied and
Rocky glared at him so he went on. “Settle, Roc, you need your shit
together to make this call.”

“We waited too long,” she repeated, her face
so filled with worry it was twisted.

“Raquel,
settle,
” Layne ordered
low.

She stared at him. Then she walked to him,
around him and back into the bathroom. He went to stand in the
doorway and he watched her preparing her toothbrush.

“What do I say?” she asked then shoved the
toothbrush in her mouth.

“In this scenario, you’re not Ms. Merrick,
high school Lit teacher. You’re Rocky, Tripp’s Dad’s girlfriend,
Tripp’s your boy and your boy likes their girl, their girl likes
your boy. You’re equals. You’re makin’ a special dinner for a
special occasion, it’s a surprise and you want Giselle there.”

She pulled the brush from her mouth and
through the foam demanded to know, “What special occasion?”

“Doesn’t matter. Make it up. Anniversary.
Birthday. They don’t know and won’t care. Then you lead the
conversation another way, is Giselle okay? She was actin’ funny at
school yesterday. You didn’t see her at the game last night. She
and Tripp are tight, you and her are tight, but you’ve noticed a
difference.”

She nodded, bent, spit, rinsed and wiped.
Then she walked to him, snatched his phone from his hand and walked
out.

Layne used the toilet, brushed his teeth
with the toothbrush she’d given him the morning after the night
Astley came to visit then he walked down to the kitchen to see the
coffeepot filling and Rocky getting down mugs.

She didn’t even look at him when she
whispered, “I want this done, Layne, all of this done. I want it to
be you and me and the boys and Blondie and the worst thing that
could happen is Jas burns the pasta bake.”

“I get that, sweetcheeks.”

Her neck twisted fast, her hair, that she
hadn’t taken the time to put up, flying over her shoulder.

“You need to make that so, Layne,” she
ordered.

He grinned at her because she was cute when
she was bossy, because he loved it that her concern ran that deep
about a kid she didn’t know all that well and it ran deeper because
that kid meant something to his boy and because she ordered it
because she knew deep down he could do it and that meant she
believed in him.

“Aye, aye, captain,” he muttered, her eyes
narrowed and she opened her mouth, probably to yell, but he lunged
toward her, hooking her with an arm around her waist and stepped
back, pulling her into his body. She tilted her head back and he
looked down, speaking before she could get a word out. “It’ll be
okay,” he assured her softly.

“They hurt her, I’ll kill them,” she
whispered fiercely.

“It’ll be okay,” Layne repeated.

“It better be,” she snapped.

“If it isn’t, it will be, baby. Shit
happens, you know that better than anyone, and people deal. We just
gotta move now to make certain, if it’s already happened, nothin’
more happens.” She opened her mouth to speak but Layne kept
talking. “I’ve given you a job, Roc. Quit fuckin’ around and do
it.”

She went stiff in his arm then she
nodded.

Then she turned toward the coffeepot.

* * * * *

“Hello, Adele?” Rocky said into her phone,
she was tense and she’d taken three big breaths before she’d dialed
the number.

Layne was sitting on the counter, holding a
mug. Rocky was standing on the floor, her waist pressed to his
knee, her hand resting lightly on his thigh.

Then it squeezed as Layne watched her face
go pale and her eyes go unfocused.

“What?” she whispered. “Yes, sorry, of
course, I’ll let you go. If you need anything…” She trailed off and
Layne put a hand to her chin, gripping it between thumb and finger,
he forced her eyes to his and he sucked in breath at what he saw.
“I’m… yes, I’m with him. He’s right here. You want to talk to
him?”

Shit, shit, fucking
shit.

“Just hang on one second, okay?” Rocky said
into the phone.

She took her phone from her ear and wrapped
her other hand around it.

“Giselle was supposed to go to the game last
night. They live close to the school. She walked there but her
friends say she never showed and she never came home,” Rocky
whispered, her eyes bright, the tears not forming but they were
threatening.

This was unexpected and definitely unwanted.
Withdrawal was one thing, missing another.

Layne put his mug down, jumped off the
counter, grabbed the phone she was holding out to him and put it to
his ear.

“Adele?” Layne said into the phone.

“No, Tanner, you’ve got Wade, Wade
Speakmon,” Giselle’s father spoke back and his voice was tight.

“Wade, Rocky told me Giselle didn’t come
home last night,” Layne said.

“The cops know, we called them already.
They’ve been here. Still, I know what you do, I want you to look
for her and I’ll pay you. I’ll pay you whatever you want. You come
over right now, I’ll give you a thousand dollars.”

He had called the cops but Layne didn’t get
a call.

A young girl from Youth Group missing, Merry
would hear or Colt, Layne would get a call.

Fuck.

“That won’t be necessary,” Layne stated
quickly and went on. “Which uniforms did you get?”

“Sorry?”

“Who were the cops who came out on the
call?”

“He didn’t wear a uniform. They sent a
detective. I figured they weren’t messing around, seeing as she’s
a…” He stopped talking and Layne visualized him swallowing,
struggling to keep it together and Layne struggled with him, trying
to keep his patience. Then Wade continued. “They sent a detective
right off.”

Fuck!

Layne looked at Rocky then he was on the
move, moving swiftly toward the stairs, speaking and walking. “What
was the detective’s name?”

“Rutledge. Harry Rutledge,” Wade
answered.

Fuck!

Layne took the stairs two at a time.

“Only Rutledge?” he asked.

“Sorry?” Wade answered.

“Was it only one detective? Did they only
send Rutledge?”

“Yes.”

“I want the names and phone numbers of all
her friends. Every one. You get your wife to write them down. You
call the police, you talk to Garrett Merrick, Alec Colton, Patrick
Sullivan, Mike Haines or Drew Mangold. You don’t talk to anyone but
one of those men and you absolutely do
not
talk to Harrison
Rutledge.”

“Why?”

“No time to explain. I’m hanging up now. Do
it. Someone will be over to get that list.”

“Okay,” Wade Speakmon whispered.

“Don’t worry Wade, I’ll find your girl,”
Layne promised then flipped his phone shut.

He was in Rocky’s room and he bent to pick
up his t-shirt as he flipped his phone open.

“Layne,” Rocky called and his neck went back
to see her standing in the door, face pale, dark hair framing it,
she was holding her body carefully.

“Not now, baby,” he whispered, straightened,
pulled his shirt over his head then he scrolled down to Ryker in
his phone and hit go.

It rang once then Ryker answered with a,
“Yo.”

“You listening?” Layne asked.

“Yep, to nothin’,” Ryker replied. “Relieved
Dev, who, by the way, is a pain in the ass.”

Layne was moving while bent, grabbing his
boots and socks. “Dev get anything?”

“Nope, that’s why he’s a pain in the ass.
Pissed and left while bitchin’ about spendin’ all night listenin’
to nothin’. Don’t think they’re even there. Silence.”

“I want Gaines,” Layne stated, sitting on
the edge of the bed, he put the phone between ear and shoulder and
Ryker finally read his tone.

“What?”

“You got any clue where he’d be?”

“Why?”

“Speakmon girl is missin’ and has been since
last night. She left to go to the game, never made it there, never
made it home. I want Gaines. You leave my office, you get on your
bike and you find that fucker. You got friends, you get on the
phone, you mobilize their asses and they find that fucker. I want
him in my office.”

“Blows your operation, bro,” Ryker said
softly.

“We’ll worry about that later. Find that
fucker,” Layne replied, yanking on a boot.

“Blows everything, you take him,” Ryker
returned.

“Find. That. Fucker,” Layne repeated,
flipped his phone shut and yanked on his other boot.

“Layne,” Rocky whispered and Layne didn’t
look at her.

He flipped his phone open and called
Devin.

“What?” Devin clipped, Layne stood and moved
to Rocky.

“Giselle is missing,” Layne answered.

“I’m on it,” Devin declared and
disconnected.

Layne stopped at Roc and finally looked down
at her.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered.

Her hands came to his tee at his sides and
fisted.

“Layne,” she whispered.

He wrapped his hand around the back of her
head, pulled her to him and kissed the top of her hair.

Then, his lips still there, he whispered,
“It’ll be okay. Get to my house. Now.”

He felt her head nod.

Then he let her go, pulled gently away and
took off.

He was out of the gate and on the road when
his mind cleared of everything except trying to shut it off from
thinking he waited too long.

He was trying but he was failing.

* * * * *

The door to the reverend’s house opened and
Layne looked at Pastor Knox.

“Well, Tanner Layne!” He smiled big. “What a
surprise, you here, you and your Ma back at church, bringin’ your
boys and Raquel into the fold –”

Layne didn’t smile and cut him off. “I need
the whereabouts of TJ Gaines and I need them right now.”

Pastor Knox’s smile faded, his brows drew
together in confusion and he asked softly, “What?”

“Your Youth Minister, TJ Gaines, is not a
Youth Minister. He’s the recruiting agent for an underage sex
racket,” Layne laid it out and Pastor Knox’s face went as white as
his hair. “Giselle Speakmon went missing last night and I need
Gaines.”

“That can’t be,” Pastor Knox whispered.

“It is,” Layne returned. “Now I got a girl
missin’ and I don’t have time to convince you this is true. You
know where he is, where he might be or how I can get in contact
with him, you need to tell me and you need to do it right now.”

“I… we… we check out all of our employees.
He checked out.”

“TJ Gaines checked out, sure. But the man
you got workin’ for you is not TJ Gaines.”