No, she’d have better luck asking around to the tenants. It was early, but she figured somebody was bound to be awake. A picture was all she needed. She didn’t have one of Lauren. The one in her pocket didn’t count.

But she had plenty of Amelia.

She took out her phone and pulled up her favorite one.

Phone in hand, she got out of her car, locked it tight. A couple of guys stood outside one of the rooms downstairs, smoking. Hesitating, she hovered at the edge of her car, a dark figure hidden in the shadows. They didn’t look like guys she should be talking to in an empty motel parking lot. There was no one to witness if she got hurt...or worse. No one to step in and help if things went awry. Biting her lip, she peered down at the photo in her hand. There was a possibility that Amelia was somewhere in this motel. Whitney had to do whatever it took to find her. Lifting her chin, she urged her legs to walk forward in their direction.

The minute she reached them, she forced herself to talk, afraid if she waited, she’d lose her nerve. “Hey.” The word she chose was casual, confident, but her wobbly voice betrayed how nervous she was.

They didn’t respond with a friendly greeting of their own, just stared blankly.

It rattled her, but she wouldn’t allow herself to back down. “Um...I’m looking for my daughter.” Holding up her phone, it shook in her hands. With her other hand, she pointed at Amelia. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen her, would you?”

“No,” one of them said without even looking at the picture. His steely gaze took in the parking lot behind her as he stuck the tip of the cigarette in his mouth. The other end crackled, the blaze a bold orange, flickering against the black sky.

Whitney shivered.

The other one, squinted, moved in closer. “Um...you know, I might have. Earlier today. I think she was with that other girl.” He snapped his large fingers, nudged his friend. “The one that’s staying upstairs.” His friend shook his head, clearly not wanting to be involved.

Whitney stood up taller, leaned in. “Was the other girl dark haired? Kinda tall? Glasses?”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds like her,” he said, drawing his cigarette to his lips.

“Oh, thank you.” Whitney hugged her phone to her chest. She was so close she could feel it. Her gaze flickered to the stairs. “You said she was staying upstairs. Do you happen to know what room?”

The rude guy shook his head, muttered something unintelligible. The friendlier guy shook his head too.

It was clear that was all she was getting out of them. Still, it was something. Even more than she’d been expecting.