Page 82 of From the Embers
I followed after her, whisper-yelling, “Hey, shhhh, she’s asleep.”
Once she’d grabbed the computer bag she’d brought from the house, she silently slipped out of the room just as quickly as she’d entered it. She made fast work of pulling out her laptop and then passed the bag to me. “Find me my external key.”
She sank down on the top stair, typing in passwords and booting up her computer. I dug to the bottom of the bag, finding the small flash-drive-sized device she used to securely access Prism from home. “What are you doing?”
“We had a Barton at Prism. I don’t remember his first name though.”
With my heart pounding in my chest, I passed her the digital key and wedged my large body beside her at the top of the stairwell. “You think it could be him?”
“I don’t know. He’s the only Barton I know though.” She continued staring at the screen, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Do you remember when I first went back to work after the fire? There was a maintenance guy who no-showed for an entire month before anyone noticed and cut him from the books.”
I did not remember this in the least. I was, however, hovered over her screen as if I could magically unlock the universe and I prayed with my entire soul I could.
Suddenly, her back shot straight, and she leaned in close to the screen. “Steven Barton. S. Barton—he used to work at Prism.”
She turned the screen my way and there he was. A man I didn’t recognize with dark-brown hair and a thick beard. Steven Todd Barton in the fucking flesh who possibly knew who had taken my daughter.
I shot to my feet. “What’s his address?”
She continued frantically clicking around on the screen.
“Bree, what the fuck is his address?”
“I don’t know. I’m looking. He doesn’t seem to have one. The address section is all blacked out.” She shook her head. “That’s not possible. Get Jillian on the phone. Everyone has an address on file. It’s policy.”
It took one ring for Jillian to answer the phone. “Hello?”
“Why doesn’t Barton have an address?” I snapped.
“What?” she asked, thoroughly perplexed.
Bree reached up and took the cell from my ear. “Hey, Jill, it’s Bree. Listen, I’m looking at a file for a former employee. His address is all blacked out though. Why?” She hit the speaker button and then set the phone beside her so she could use both hands.
Jillian’s voice filled the hallway. “A lot of times, when employees just up and quit or get fired, they forget to send us their new address. When tax season rolls around, we send everything out do not forward. That way, the post office will send it back to us with the correct address and we can update it in the system. If you hit the yellow arrows, it should take you to the newest address we have on record.”
“Yeah, I see the yellow arrows.” Another click. “Yep. Okay. I got it.”
I read over her shoulder—the three-line address branded on the backs of my lids.
“Any word on Luna yet?” Jillian asked.
“We’re working on it.” Bree ended the phone call, but I was already halfway down the stairs. “Where are you going?”
“Eight-ninety-one Richmont Way.”
“You can’t go there,” she hissed, her feet pounding the stairs as she hurried after me, but I didn’t slow. “You don’t even know if it’s the same guy.”
“I’ll take my chances being wrong.” Each step toward the door made me more determined than the last.
“Eason,” she called. “Wait, let’s call Agent Garrett.”
“Happy to as soon as we get on the fucking road.” I paused as I passed Evelyn, who was sitting in her recliner. “Can you watch the kids for a few?”
She sat up and kicked the footrest closed, her eyes wide. “Of course. What’s going on? Did they find her?”
“Not yet.” I snatched my keys from my pocket and shoved my feet into a pair of boots by the back door, not bothering with the laces. “But we’re working on it.”
Bree chased me all the way out to my Tahoe, and even though I loved that woman, my already thin patience was waning.
“Eason, stop,” she ordered, jumping between me and the car door.
“I can’t fucking stop. Do you understand me?” I seethed. “Someone has my daughter. Someone I do not know. Someone who could—right this very second—be hurting her, abusing her.” I leaned in close and added through clenched teeth, “Killing her. Stopping is no longer an option. This Steven Barton ends up being the wrong guy, then I have not one fucking thing to lose besides a trip across town. Though, he ends up being the right guy…” I lifted my T-shirt to reveal my moon-covered pec. “I have the entire fucking world to gain. So either move and let me go or get in the fucking car, but one way or another, with or without you, I’m going to find my daughter.”
