Free Torn by Cynthia Eden Page A

say. What would Sarah say? “How do you know for certain? Maybe she just hooked up with someone last night.”
    Jim’s head whipped up and snapped toward her. His dark brown eyes locked on her.
    Crap. I did it again. Said the wrong thing.
    â€œShe wasn’t looking for a hookup,” he gritted out. “We were hanging out, dancing with friends. I went to the bathroom and when I came back she was just gone.”
    Right. Gone. Which means that she could have found a guy and left with him. Or maybe she’d connected with other friends and gone to check out another bar.
    Lots of possibilities. Doesn’t mean something bad happened.
    Yet.
    â€œShe didn’t answer her phone. She didn’t call all night.” Jim pushed his hand through his hair. “That’s not like Melissa. She always checks in with me.”
    â€œHave you contacted her family?” Wade asked as he stood a few feet away, his arms loose at his sides.
    â€œShe doesn’t have other family. Melissa was a foster kid, just like me. I am her family, and she wouldn’t just vanish.” His face hardened. “No one would listen when I started calling this morning. Cops told me that since she was over eighteen, there wasn’t even a reason to look for her yet. She’s gone. That’s a reason. ”
    â€œDid you check the hospitals?” Wade asked.
    Jim flinched. “No . . .”
    â€œThat will be our first order of business. We’ll call all the hospitals and make sure no one fitting her description was brought in between last night and this morning.”
    Hope came and went on Jim’s face. “LOST.” He still held Wade’s card in his hand. Though it had gotten a bit crumpled in his fist. “You . . . you really do this shit? You find the missing?”
    They worked cold cases. Not something like this. If this Melissa actually turned out to be missing—­and not just hanging with a friend or recovering in a hospital bed—­then the local authorities would take over. LOST wouldn’t have any sort of jurisdiction. They weren’t a federal agency. They were the ones who came in when hope was lost.
    Hope isn’t lost here.
    â€œWe try to find them,” Wade said carefully.
    Jim sucked in a deep breath. “What do you need to know? What can I do?”
    â€œFirst, I need her name. Full name.”
    â€œMelissa Hastings.” He hesitated, then a brief smile curled his lips. “Melissa Margaret Hastings, though she’s always hated her middle name.”
    â€œTell me what she looks like.”
    â€œAbout five-­foot-­six, one hundred thirty-­five pounds. Fit, cause she runs a lot.”
    Just like Kennedy had run? Victoria’s stomach ­knotted.
    â€œBlond hair, long, just to her shoulders. Blue eyes. Last night she was—­she was wearing a blue shirt. White skirt. Heels.”
    â€œGood,” Wade said. “That’s good information.”
    Jim nodded and hurriedly said, “I can do you one better, man.” He fumbled and pulled out his phone. He tapped on the screen a few times and then lifted the phone toward them. “This is her.”
    Victoria leaned in to see the picture of the pretty, smiling blonde. Dimples winked in her cheeks, and she had her arm wrapped around Jim’s neck.
    Wade took the phone. “Mind if I text this picture to my phone? It can help in the search.”
    â€œAnything man, anything.” While Wade texted the photo, Jim mumbled, “I—­I tried using that Find My Phone app, but it didn’t work. I don’t know if—­if she disabled it or if . . .”
    If someone else did? “Like I said,” Wade said, his voice calm and easy as he handed the phone back to Jim. “First we check the hospitals . . .”
    B UT M ELISSA H ASTINGS wasn’t in any of the local hospitals, and an hour later Victoria