Max flanked Cathy as she disappeared down the narrow hallway. Her voice carried with ease, calling out her daughter’s name. “Amber, where are you? Please answer me.”
Clyde glanced over the living room, then looked at Russell. “This doesn’t look or feel right, does it?”
A sickening feeling tormented Russell’s stomach. He shook his head, but held his tongue as Cathy stormed back out into the hall.
“Anything?” Russell asked, training the light at her worried face.
“She’s not here,” Cathy answered, her voice growing louder. “She should be here.”
“Could she have stayed with a friend of hers?” Clyde asked.
Cathy ran her hand over her face, unable to contain the swell of emotions pouring from her. “It’s possible, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Though, looking at the state her apartment is in, I have a bad feeling something has happened to her. She isn’t a messy person. Never has been. This doesn’t feel like Amber’s place.”
Clyde glanced at Russell. “Just to play devil’s advocate here, you’re certain we are in the right apartment, right?”
“Really?” Cathy said in a deep sigh, then raised her voice. “I think I know where my daughter lives, thank you. I wouldn’t have busted in here if I wasn’t a hundred percent for sure.”
“All right, everyone. Let’s calm down and take a moment to think this through.” Russell held up his hands while shifting his gaze from Cathy to Clyde. “There has to be an explanation for why she isn’t here.”
Clyde kept his mouth shut, then grabbed the sling to his rifle.
Cathy hammered the wall with her fist, then looked about the apartment with worried eyes.
Max milled about in front of the bar, sniffing the carpet, then trailed off into the kitchen.
“Listen,” Russell said, looking at Cathy who wiped away the tears streaming down her face. She folded her arms across her chest, then glanced at him. “We will find her, okay, but you’re going to have to keep it together. I know that’s easier said than done, but you’re going to have to do it.”
Cathy exhaled a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. There has to be something in here that will tell us where she is.”
Russell trained the flashlight down the hallway toward the rooms. “Why don’t you check those rooms back there and see what you can find? We’ll look out here, and see if we come across anything.”
“Okay.” Cathy unfolded her arms, walked back down the hall, and vanished into one of the rooms.
“I didn’t mean to agitate her anymore that she already is,” Clyde said in a low voice.
“You’re good,” Russell replied, waving off the comment. “She’s injured and worried. She’ll be fine. Let’s just focus on trying to figure out where Amber is.”
Clyde nodded, then scanned the living room.
A rustling sound loomed from the kitchen.
Russell turned and walked past the wall to the opening near the door. He shone the light at the dimness within the cramped kitchen. Max pawed and rummaged through the trash on the floor.
“If you’re hungry, bud, we’ll get you some actual food. No need to sift through that garbage,” he said, watching the canine bury his nose into the waste.
The beam washed over the mounded heap inside the black trash can. He studied the waste, and spotted what looked to be a medical needle close to the far side against the top edge.
Russell grabbed the tip of the plunger and pulled it free of the garbage surrounding it. The outside felt wet with who knew what. His face scrunched in disgust. He flicked his wrist, slinging the wetness from the outside of the needle.
“I think I got something here,” Russell said, taking the long, thin needle back to the living room.
Max followed behind him, then skirted past his legs. He barked once, sat on his haunches, then looked up at him.
“What did you find?” Clyde asked, holding a small baggy of some sort between his fingers.
“Did you find something useful?” Cathy asked, limping out from the room.
Russell showed her the needle he’d found. “This was in the trash close to the top. It was kind of poking out a bit. Max was sniffing around the trash.”
Cathy took the needle from him. She examined the syringe, twisting and turning it in the light coming in through the windows.
“I found this on the floor near the couch,” Clyde said, showing them the baggy.
Russell trained his light at the white powdery substance that coated the inside. He had a good idea of what it was, but didn’t want to venture that sort of comment yet.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Cathy said, looking at the needle. She peered at the baggy, then held out her hand. “Let me see that.”
Clyde walked closer, set the small bag in her palm, gave Russell a look, then turned away.
Cathy held both items. Confusion filled her face. Her nose scrunched and brow furrowed as she stared at her hand with a lost look. “I know what this looks like, but I’m telling you right now my daughter is no druggy. She’s never done that sort of thing and wouldn’t. There has to be an explanation of why this is in her apartment.”
“It could be one of her friends’, maybe,” Russell said, shrugging.
The door to the apartment across from Amber’s place cracked open. Max growled and stood up. He weaved his bulky frame between Russell and Cathy and stalked toward the hallway.
Russell turned around, then shone the light at the dark corridor. “Hold on, Max.”
The beam washed over the outside of the door, then trailed toward the narrow gap. A woman stood there, peering in their direction.
Max toed the edge of the doorway, growling and lowering his head. The fur along his spine stood on end. He inched forward a
