“We don’t have plate numbers yet,” Nash said, pausing to glance down at his phone. “Scratch that. 2002 gray Ford Taurus with a primer gray trunk lid.” He read off a license plate number.
“Lawlerville is half an hour from here,” I said, running the calculations in my head. It was the edge of a suburb of D.C.
“You’d have to be pretty stupid to steal a car and then drive it back to the scene of the crime,” Lucian pointed out.
“If Tina is involved with this, stupid is a factor.”
The front door opened, and Sloane and Lina rushed in. Sloane looked breathless and scared. Lina looked scary.
“What can I do?” Sloane asked.
“Whose ass do you want me to kick?” Lina demanded.
I needed to move. I needed to get out of here and find my girls, rip apart every single person who played a role in taking them, and then spend the rest of my life begging for Naomi’s forgiveness.
“Give us a moment, ladies,” Lucian said and steered me back outside. “There’s more.”
“What more?”
“I have a name.”
I grabbed him by the lapels of his wool coat. “Give me the name,” I growled.
Lucian’s hands closed over mine. “It’s not going to help like you think it will.”
“Start talking before I start punching.”
“Duncan Hugo.”
I released him. “Hugo as in the Hugo crime family?”
Anthony Hugo was a crime lord who operated out of both D.C. and Baltimore. Drugs. Prostitution. Weapons. Enforcement. Political blackmail. You name it, it had his filthy fingerprints on it.
“Duncan is the son. And a bit of a fuck-up. It was his chop shop where the car used in Nash’s shooting was found. I didn’t think it was a coincidence, but I wanted more information to corroborate before I brought it to you and Nash.”
“How long have you known?” I demanded, my hands balling into fists.
“Not long enough for you to waste time and energy on me tonight.”
“Goddammit, Luce.”
“Rumor has it he had a nasty and recent split from his father. Seems Duncan wants to strike out on his own. Rumors also mention a woman he’s been working with as well as fucking for the past few months.”
It clicked into place as neatly as the last piece of a puzzle. Tina Fucking Witt.
“Where is he?”
Lucian tucked his hands into his pockets, his expression giving nothing away. “That’s the problem. Since he had his falling out with his father, no one seems to know his whereabouts.”
“Or they’re not telling you.”
“Sooner or later, everyone tells me everything,” he said.
I didn’t have time to worry about how dark that sounded. “You tell Nash any of this?” I asked, digging my keys out of my pocket.
“Just the plate number. Could be a coincidence.”
“It’s not.”
The door opened behind me, and Sloane stepped out.
“Are you going to look for them?” she asked.
I nodded then turned to Lucian. “I’ll start in Lawlersville and work my way toward D.C.”
“Hold on,” he said.
“I’m coming with you,” Sloane announced.
Lucian stepped in front of her. “You’re staying here.”
“She’s my friend, and Waylay is practically a second niece.”
“You’re staying here.”
I didn’t have time to listen to Lucian use his scary ass intimidation voice.
“I think you’re making the incredibly ignorant assumption that you have any say over what I do or don’t do.”
“If I find out you leave town limits tonight, I will see that your beloved library never gets another dime of funding. Then I’ll buy every piece of land around your house and build apartment complexes so tall you never see the sun again.”
“You rich son of a…”
I left them to it. I opened the door to my truck and climbed behind the wheel. A second later, the passenger door opened, and Lucian got in. “Where are we going?”
“I’m starting at the top. I’m going to beat the hell out of Anthony Hugo until he tells us where his asshole son is. Then I’m going to find him and beat the hell out of him until I break every bone in his face. Then I’m going to marry Naomi Witt.”
“This should be fun,” my best friend said, pulling out his phone.
“You can give Nash a heads-up on the way and then tap that creepy source network of yours to find me Anthony Hugo.”