Free Under the Magnolia by Moira Rogers Page A

again. "He's
probably going to sell her to a trafficker. They run shipments of
psychics in and out of private ports all up and down the coast."
    Wes froze and looked at each of the
three men in turn. "And that possibility doesn't surprise any of
you?"
    Howie shook his head and grabbed a
notepad. "Hell, it's the worst-kept secret in Carter's Bay, Wes.
Addie's whole damn family is psychic. Everyone knows that."
    He'd have time later to mull over
the implications of that, for himself and for Addie. For now...
"Okay. Jack, get down to the Blue Lantern and find out if Stuart
Carlin has been talking about taking a trip. Chris, I want you to go
over to his place and look for notes, phone numbers, ticket stubs,
anything like that." The two men were already heading for the
door when he turned to Howie. "And I need that GPS trace. But I
also need you to call Bea and see if she can get me Carlin's phone
records."
    Howie was already shaking his head
by the time Wes finished speaking. "No, no way. You need a court
order, and you know it, Wes."
    "This is an emergency," he
insisted, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from clenching
them into fists. "And Carlin is a person of interest in an
ongoing criminal investigation where time is of the essence—"
    "And you'll get fired ,
Wes." Howie's voice was stern, unyielding. "Look, Jack's
right. Stuey Carlin ain't ever been the sharpest tool in the shed,
but he isn't going to hurt her. There are other ways to find—"
    "He's going to sell her, Howie." Wes could barely hear his own voice for the blood
rushing in his ears. "He's going to take her down the coast and
fucking sell her if we don't head him off at the pass. Carlin may not
be the type to hurt her, but can you say the same about whoever buys
her?"
    Howie paled at the urgent certainty
of Wes’ words, and he stared up at him for a moment before
shaking his head and reaching for the phone. "You're the boss."
    The door to the station house opened
a moment later. Wes’ mother walked in, holding up a hand.
"Don't give me that look. I tried to take her home, but she got
right back in her truck and drove over here. I could barely keep up."
    He rushed out the door. "I
know, Granny. Addie's missing. I'm sorry as he--as heck."
    "Hush, boy." Granny
Gardner was nearly a foot shorter than her granddaughter, standing a
few inches above five feet at best. There was no mistaking those
eyes, though. Granny stared up at him with the exact look Addie
always got when she was frustrated. "No time for that now. I
know where we need to go."
    He stifled a groan. He didn't doubt
that the old woman's words were true; he'd read more than one paper
stating that psychic ability had a hereditary component, and there
were Howie's words to consider. But the last thing he needed right
now was to be responsible for the safety of not one, but two Gardner
women. "Granny, just tell me, and I'll handle it, all right?"
    The look she gave him could have
flayed skin from flesh. "Are you going to waste time arguing
with me, or are you going to get in the truck so we can go save your
girl?"
    Wes ducked his head back into the
station house. "Forget the phone records, just get me that GPS
trace on Addie's cell. And keep me posted. Bye, Mama."
    Howie nodded, the phone still to his
ear. "You got it, Chief."
    His mother, however, shot him a
look. "Now, wait just a minute—"
    He stepped in and laid his hands on
her shoulders. "Mama, if you ever want to have grandbabies,
Granny and I have got to go. I'll explain it all, just not now."
    "I—" Her mouth
snapped shut and, from the look in her eyes, he knew he was going to
catch hell later. "Fine. Go."
    He'd take a landslide of maternal
fury if it meant getting to Addie in time, so he strode out without a
backward glance. Granny was waiting with her purse in one hand and
her oversized key ring in the other. "We'll take my truck,"
she said, and threw the keys to him.
    He blinked at her, then swore as he
snatched up the keys. "Pardon