“I’ve got a team locked and loaded, ready to go through it all for us.”

“So you’re trying to say I’m not needed?”

I remain focused on the control panel, but I give her the courtesy of an answer. “Arrow doesn’t need you. Jack does.”

“Got it.”

Minutes tick by. I pissed her off, but it’s just as well. When we land, she can serve her purpose and be there for Jack.

“My observational skills are strong. When we meet with her friends, I might pick up on something.”

Whatever you say, princess.

“Do you think Jack will give you access to his electronic communications?”

“It depends on how confidential some of his business matters are.” I expect Jack will volunteer any relevant information. But the British princess isn’t wrong to ask about access to everything. There might be something there Sullivan doesn’t consider relevant that could help us. Especially if this ends up being a kidnapping.

CHAPTER 4

22 Hours Missing

Ryan

The San Diego skyline graces the horizon, maybe twenty miles away. Two hangars with tile roofs border one side of our destination. A Sullivan Arms branded sign angled skyward atop a brick platform clarifies ownership for those flying over. There is a small runway stretching along the field and three helipads. Per the instructions Sullivan’s assistant emailed, I land in the helipad numbered three.

This is not Sullivan’s house, as I had assumed. The land sits on the top of a raised cliff overlooking the ocean. His view is spectacular. This property may be a couple of miles from the actual ocean, but with a view like this, it is prime property.

A man in sunglasses watches us land with his arms crossed as he leans against a black Range Rover. His colorful Hawaiian-print shirt stands out from high above. It isn’t until the helicopter door opens that the man pushes off his perch and tosses the lollipop stick he’d been chewing onto the ground.

“Welcome. I’m Wayne. Jack asked me to give you guys a lift back to his house.”

“I thought we were landing at his house.”

“San Diego city regulations.” He clucks his tongue. “No go. We’re about twenty minutes away. With traffic, it’ll be more like forty minutes. Jack would’ve been here to get you himself, but he’s still at the station. Mighty nice of you two to fly down.”

“The police station?” Wayne nods in the affirmative. “Are the local police working the case now?”

“I don’t think so. Unfortunately, he’s probably as much of a suspect in their eyes as he is a father looking for his daughter. I told him to get a lawyer, but he’s bullheaded.”

Wayne reaches for the bags, and I give a quick shake of my head. “I’ve got it.”

Alex mimics me. Growing up, they taught me to carry a woman’s bag. But I also attended the Naval Academy and spent years in the Navy. I learned some women don’t want a man to carry her bags. While I am okay with that, Wayne isn’t. He chases her down and insists on carrying her bag. In her boots, the top of his head reaches her chin.