Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
That part made me feel better, the other part not so much because I felt watched.
If you worked in this field long enough, you learned to trust your instincts. I casually looked up and across the street, then leaned back against the fence as if I were checking my phone. One of the cars that had passed me earlier—a dark sedan—was now parked three houses down. The windows were tinted, so I couldn't see who was inside, and the engine was still running.
Maybe it was nothing. Perhaps someone was waiting for a DoorDash delivery. Or maybe it was someone who wanted to make sure Gabby didn’t come back.
I texted Matty.
Me: I'm at the address. The house looks untouched, but I’ve got a possible tail—a dark sedan, no plates on the front. I'm not gonna approach. I'll text you when I know something.
I slid the phone into my back pocket, made my way back to the front door, and went up the steps. There was definitely no sign of forced entry.
I knocked and then leaned in close to the door and said, just loud enough, “Gabby, if you’re in there, it’s Webb. I’m not here to drag you home, just checking you’re alive because Sash's worried. Open up or don’t, but I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.”
I leaned back and waited, hearing nothing from inside. I wasn’t sure what pissed me off more—that Gabby was probably already gone or that she’d potentially gotten herself into something so deep she couldn’t even ask for help.
Or maybe… that she didn’t think I’d come. Then again, why would I be the person she contacted in this situation? Fuck that, I should be the person she thought of.
Frustrated with my own thoughts, I backed down the steps, crossed my arms, and stared at the dark sedan until the driver turned on their blinker and pulled away. Smart move.
I wasn’t going to let this go. Something was definitely wrong, and I was now determined to uncover the truth. Gabby wouldn’t just disappear for no reason, and she certainly wouldn’t have booby-trapped her life without purpose. Unless, of course, the house had already come that way, which made me question why she would want a property with such intricate security measures.
I walked back to the truck and climbed in, the AC hissing to life as I sat behind the wheel and watched her house through the windshield.
“All right, you little menace, what the hell have you done?”
I hadn’t been sitting there long—just me, my truck, and the low hum of heat coming through the windshield—when my phone lit up again with Matty's name on the screen.
I answered before it even finished the first ring. “Tell me you’ve got something.”
“Oh, I’ve got something.” His voice was low and serious now. “You’re gonna want to buckle up for this one.”
I already didn’t like where this was going. To be fair, I hadn't exactly been enjoying it since I'd learned Gabby was off grid, but now? Fuck no. “Hit me.”
“So, your girl Gabby?” he said. “That’s not her full name. Her legal’s Gabriella Voss, but she changed it a couple of years ago.”
“What the hell's going on?” I sighed, rubbing my forehead. None of this made sense. People changed their names for different reasons, but why would Gabby have done it?
“There’s a search out on her. Real quiet, nothing public, but I’ve got ears, Webb. Someone’s been poking around all across the state using private security channels. It's definitely some high-end, hush-hush type shit, not your average jilted ex or missing person case. This is someone with pull.”
“And who’s doing the looking?”
Matty exhaled. “It's a guy named Colin Maddox.”
The name rang a bell, mainly because it was plastered across half the billboards between here and Tampa.
“Maddox, as in the developer?” I asked. “Maddox & Shoreline Construction?”
“That’s the one. He's a prominent real estate mogul involved in a wide range of ventures, including contractors, resorts, and commercial properties—you name it. If you Google him, it’s all charity events and ribbon-cuttings. But off the record?” Matty paused. “He’s a mean sumbitch.”
I tapped the steering wheel, jaw tight. “Define mean.”
“Money laundering, bribery, a lot of code violations that have been swept under the rug. There were also a couple of inspectors who conveniently vanished right before testifying against him. Nothing's even been proven, of course, because it's obvious the man’s got the system on a leash. The police, the courts, and the media either work for him or choose to look the other way.”
“And now he’s looking for Gabby.”
“Yeah,” Matty confirmed quietly. “That’s the part that makes my skin crawl.”
I ended the call with a hard “thanks” and then pulled up Maddox’s name on my phone out of pure instinct. Sure enough, the guy looked like a damn saint. All of the search results showed speeches at city hall, gold-plated shovels breaking ground, and him smiling like he gave a damn about every hard hat behind him.