“Not often,” Trina said. “But there’s been a couple of times…”
Yeah, okay. So a whole lot of nothing being said.
“But you don’t think this is one of those times?”
“No. Cori’s supposed to have breakfast with me. And that’s not something she ever misses. We have a standing reservation, every Sunday for brunch. She always calls me to let me know she’s up and getting ready.” Trina’s eyes turned glassy. “I haven’t heard from her this morning. I’ve called and texted since I woke up, but she hasn’t responded. Now her voicemail’s full. Probably from me.”
“Do you know where she was goin’ last night?” he asked, dividing his attention between Trina and Dante, who was pouring coffee from the pot on the warmer.
“Out with friends. She mentioned a wine bar.”
“The Grove,” Dante supplied. “She loves that place.”
“Cori called me last night. Before they went out,” Trina explained. “Said it was just a few of them. They were going to hang out for a bit.” Trina set her phone down, ran her hand through her thick red hair. “She promised to text me when she got home. This morning, when I woke up, the first thing I did was check my phone. No text.
“Again, not entirely unusual. I get it, she’s young, out having fun with her friends. Gets home late, forgets to text her mother.”
Brantley could see that.
“But she always texts me back. When she didn’t call about brunch, I started to panic.”
Leaning a hip against the counter, Brantley accepted the coffee cup Dante passed over. In an effort to get his bearings on the situation, he watched Trina pace, waited to see if Dante would contribute.
He didn’t.
“Thanks,” Reese mumbled when Dante passed him a cup of coffee.
Brantley continued with, “And she hasn’t called Gerard?”
Trina shook her head. “No. I checked his phone before he left, but I didn’t want to worry him. Not yet.”
“Where’s he at now?”
“His office at the capitol,” Dante supplied. “He usually goes in on Sunday mornings. Says it’s quiet then.”
A broken sob came from Trina, drawing Dante to his mother’s side. Katrina Greenwood’s face was pale, eyes wild, her fear prominent, but they all avoided offering her placating words.
“Have you notified APD?” There was no way the police could ignore this. They wouldn’t put it off until she’d been gone for forty-eight hours, which was sometimes the case for missing persons. All rules and regulations went out the window when the governor’s daughter went missing. At this point, they’d likely have every law enforcement agency in Texas on high alert.
“Not yet. I…” Trina swallowed. “I don’t want to look like a panicked mom in the event she simply stayed with a friend. Or maybe left her phone.”
“Does she usually do either?” Reese asked.
“No. Cori prefers her own space, doesn’t stay at other people’s houses. And her phone is her lifeline. If she left it anywhere, it would be completely by accident.”
“Have you received any calls? From anyone else?” Brantley inquired.
Her light blue eyes were solemn as she shook her head. “You mean someone asking for a ransom?”
Yes, that was what he meant, but he knew better than to say the word. Trina was hovering on the fringes of a panic attack and the last thing he needed was for her to get hysterical.
“No. No phone calls. Not yet.”
“Okay. We need a list of her friends,” he told them both. “The ones she was going out with.”
“I don’t know exactly who,” she said, her words rushed. “She didn’t tell me.”
“Then a list of all her friends,” he said calmly.
Trina spun around, snatched a spiral-bound notebook off the counter, passed it over. “Already did that. I knew someone would ask.”
Brantley scanned the names, noticed she had a few phone numbers listed. They would call them all, track down those she didn’t have contact info for.
For simplicity, Brantley snapped a picture of the names, gave her what was meant to be a reassuring hug, then promised he would be in touch as soon as he learned something.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he prompted Dante on his way to the door.
Dante nodded, then followed them outside.
“I’d like to check out her place. See if it’ll give us any insight.”
“Of course.” Dante dug in his pocket, retrieved a key. “I was planning to stop by there, but I didn’t want to leave my mom…”
“She’s understandably upset,” Reese noted. “We’ll see what we can do to get some answers.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Dante’s blue eyes bounced between the two of them. “Keep us in the loop.”
“Of course,” Brantley said, motioning for Reese to lead the way down the steps.
Once back in the truck, Brantley let his phone connect to Bluetooth, then dialed JJ’s number.
“Hey,” she said, her tone rushed. “Please tell me you found her.”
“Not yet, no. I’ve got a list of names. Need you to track them down, find out where they are. Sending it to you now.” He passed the phone to Reese so he could send over the image of the names.
