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 f**kin’ 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, f**king 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.