Poe’s tone shifts. “Yeah. Read it.”
I read the number.
Poe types. I hear the faint click of keyboard keys. Salem watches my face like the answer is going to decide whether she can breathe. A few seconds pass. Then Poe goes quiet. Too quiet.
My grip tightens on the wheel. “Poe?”
His voice comes back, lower. “Where are you?”
“Outskirts of Magnolia Ridge,” I say. “Warehouse lead you gave me. We found the car behind it.”
Salem’s hands twist in her lap.
Poe exhales slowly. “That plate is registered to Arthur Charles.”
The name hits us like a gunshot.
Salem goes completely still.
My throat constricts. I force my voice to stay steady. “You’re sure?”
“Positive,” Poe says. “Registration is current. Address listed. Owner’s name is Arthur Charles.”
Salem’s voice is barely there. “That’s… that’s my father.”
I glance at her, my chest tightening at the way her face goes pale. Like the floor just vanished.
Poe’s voice comes through, sharper now. “Ozzy. If that’s her father, and his car is behind a warehouse tied to Goldenbell activity, you need to tell Dean immediately.”
“I will,” I say. “We’re leaving the area now.”
Salem’s breath trembles. “Why would his car be there?”
I don’t answer because I don’t want to say the options out loud. Because the options are all bad.
Poe’s voice softens slightly, but it’s still Poe, still blunt. “Salem, right.”
Salem flinches at hearing her name from a stranger. “Yeah.”
“I’m Poe,” he says. “I’m sorry you’re in this. I’m running another check now. Any reports on the vehicle. Tows. Tickets. Anything recent.”
Salem’s throat works. “Okay.”
I turn onto a main road and drive away from the warehouse, forcing myself not to check the rearview mirror every two seconds. Forcing myself not to speed like panic has a gas pedal.
Salem stares out the window, eyes unfocused. Her voice is thin. “So he was there.”
“Maybe,” I say.
“Or someone else was driving his car,” she whispers, like she’s trying to protect herself from hope.
I glance at her. “Possible.”
Salem’s hands curl into fists. “But you said he’s missing.”
“He is,” I say. “Or he’s hiding. We don’t know yet.”
Poe’s keys click again on the line. “Ozzy, I’m seeing something. Hold.”