“How’d the search party go earlier?” I ask to deflect to a safer topic.

“Her friends took us everywhere they hang out. All the places on the beach and…” He flexes his hand. “What if she went out to meet someone and something happened?”

“It’s a possibility. And another reason to get the word out. If someone has her, and they by chance don’t know her father’s net worth, it might be worth it to let them know.”

“I’ll think about it.” He turns his back to me, crosses his arms, and blindly stares out the window.

“I have a file on the portal of the photos off her phone. Can you go through them? I need you to flag anyone you don’t recognize.”

“Definitely.” He swivels his office chair around, sits, and pulls up to his keyboard. “Did you send me a link?”

There is hope in his question. I understand. Having an actionable task is infinitely better than swimming through watery emotions.

CHAPTER 10

49 Hours Missing

Alex

Buildings dot the landscape as far as the eye can see. Even up in the hills, homes peek out between dots of green and rocky peaks. Through the curved helicopter window, a long white coastline stretches before us, and bright white crests speckle the mass of navy blue. Just another day in beautiful Southern California.

Is Sophia in one of the cars flying down the 101? Is she getting stoned on the beach and enjoying newfound freedom? Maybe having sex with some older man who convinced her this is the only way they could be together? Or is she the latest human trafficking victim, bound in a large container headed off to the highest bidder?

“How long have you lived here?” Ryan’s mundane question brings me back to the cabin. After leaving Jack’s, silence has dominated.

“Not long. Less than a year. What about you?”

“Santa Barbara? Less than a year.” His frown softens. Piloting a helicopter suits him. He’s in charge, a machine under his control, the world beneath him. “Did you love being a student?”

“What?” I field plenty of questions about my chosen coursework, but few about being a student.

“That’s a long time to go to school. I’ve always wondered why people do that. I mean, I get doctors. There’s a lot to learn to do the job. But those who essentially become full-time students, I’ve always wondered what makes you tick. There’s not that much money, is there? How long do you have to work before you break even on all the tuition?”

My laugh spills out. There is a slight playback in my headset, and my laugh sounds godawful. I choke the laugh down, self-conscious of the unattractive noise. But when I glance at Ryan, the corners of those growly lips are up, amused for once.

“My father is an academic. I can’t remember a time when I questioned if I would pursue a doctorate. I don’t think my father did either.”

“So he’s big shit?” He turns his head, and his ice-blue irises study me. “That’s what Jack said.”