“Already hacking their server,” Tech said.
“Blake’s alibi checks out,” Bridget said. “Carl confirmed Blake was taking a comprehension test from eleven until about twelve-thirty.”
“Blake’s officially not a suspect then. Good to know.” I nodded, turning to Tech. “What’s taking so long?” I snapped my fingers for him to hurry up.
“Hold your horses. I’ve almost got it.”
I entered Milo’s address while I waited for Tech. Turning on the wall TV, the satellite image appeared in front of me. I spotted the parents’ house and moved to the east to find the trailer where Milo lived. Zooming in closer, I was unimpressed with the garbage bags lining the outside of the trailer. Nor did the tires stacked in the driveway inspire me to move to the neighborhood.
“Does Milo have a truck or SUV?”
“No registered vehicles in his name,” Tech answered, not looking up from his computer.
I zoomed out again and moved the screen back to the main house. “Well, look at that. How much do you want to bet that Milo borrows daddy’s truck?”
Beth glanced up at the screen that showed two cars and a truck in the driveway. The truck was the oldest of the three vehicles. “You’re having fun, aren’t you?”
“There’s a lot about this job that sucks—” I started to say.
“But when Kelsey is on the scent of a bad guy, this shit is a blast,” Tech interrupted.
“If only Tech could get his hands on the termination file for our suspect…” I said.
“Got it,” Tech said. “Weirding the girls out. That’s exactly what the manager wrote. Milo was fired two weeks before Allie disappeared.”
“Holy shit,” Beth squealed. “You got him.”
“Not so fast,” Bridget said. “Finding a suspect isn’t enough. Now she has to prove it was him. First to herself, then to the cops. And there’s no guarantee that if she does prove he was involved, that we’ll figure out what happened.”
“That sucks,” Beth said, her shoulders deflating. “You make it sound impossible.”
“Not impossible,” Bridget said. “She’s just a long way from the finish line.”
I pulled my phone and called Trigger.
“You’re on speaker, Boss. And I’d like to request anyone other than Casey for future road trips. He won’t let me change the radio, and he’s a country music fan.”
“Suck it up. What’s your location?” I asked as Tech took over my computer and zoomed out. A blinking red dot appeared on the screen. “Never mind. Tech pulled up your GPS unit. Looks like you are about an hour from our mark.”
“We have a mark? I thought we only had a list of people to interview?” Trigger asked.
“Things change. The mark is a single white male living in a trailer at the back of his parents’ property. I’m going to have Tech send you the coordinates to a location on the far north of the property. Go in on foot to do recon first. This guy is reading as extremely odd and likely owns a shotgun.”
“Doesn’t everyone own a shotgun?” Casey asked.
Outside of the war room, loud clanging and thumping noises, followed by a brief scream, had me running toward the door. On the other side of the walkway, I leaned over the rail and looked down. Tweedle was laid out on the floor with a cut on her forehead and her skirt hiked up to her boobs. She scrambled to roll over and pull her skirt down.
“Wayne!” I yelled.
“I only took my eyes off her for a second, Kelsey! I swear,” Wayne said as he ran over and helped Tweedle from the floor.
“Ryan is going to kick our asses when he sees all the bruises on her!”
“Looks like I brought over the clothes Alex gathered just in time,” Lisa said as she crossed the gym, holding up two tote bags. “I’ll get her cleaned and changed. Get back to work.”
“Dress her in bubble wrap and strap her to a chair if you have to. Our lives depend on it.” I walked back into the war room to find Tech, Bridget, and Beth laughing. Carl was hunched close to his computer. “Carl?”
Bridget jumped up and looked. “No, Carl. You can’t order twenty pizzas.”
“Actually, I’m getting hungry,” I said.
“Me too,” Tech said.
“Hello?” a voice from my phone yelled.
“Shit, sorry. Tweedle fell down the steps.”
“Who’s Tweedle?” Casey asked.
“Ryan’s wife.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’ll live. But it was her third near-death experience since being left in our care.”
“What were the first two?” Trigger asked.
“One involved a nail gun, and the other involved an ax, but I’ll deny both happened if asked.”
Casey whistled. “Okay. We’ve got the coordinates from Tech, and we’re navigating that direction. It’ll be an hour at least before we’re there.”
“Call us when you’re ready. We’ll be twiddling our thumbs until then.”
“You got it, boss,” Trigger said before disconnecting the call.
“Now what?” Beth asked.
“Now we work on something else until Trigger and Casey are ready for us.”
“How can you focus on something else?”
“It’s better than pacing for an hour,” Tech said, laughing. “This is a daily occurrence for us, so you get used to it.”
“What’s next on the list that I can clear while we wait?” I asked Tech.
“Grab one of Donovan’s stalker cases,” Tech said, nodding to the stack of folders on the credenza. “I haven’t looked at them yet, but we can start a workup.”
I read the label on the side of the first folder: “Daphne Davenport.”
“The movie star?” Beth asked.
“Hell, if
