Missing

*If you're looking for something to get off to quickly, this isn't it. There are sexy scenes in this story, but they come well earned. So, if you want something with character development and plot, enjoy.

Chapter One

Jake Connors slowly opened his eyes, still feeling the sickening effects of too much liquor the night before; he hadn't drank that much since his frat boy years. He cursed under his breath as he gained his bearings. The room eventually quit spinning enough for him to see the sun peeking through the slits of the bamboo blinds hanging in the west window.

Dammit, he'd slept all day and missed his noontime workout ... again. Rachel, the pretty redhead from accounting at the department, would surely think he did it on purpose this time. He huffed a sigh of frustration, throwing his tattooed forearm across his eyes. Rachel was a sweet girl, for sure. The kind his mother would be proud for him to bring home. But she came with baggage he wasn't sure he was ready for -- namely a cute little kid with the same red curls as his mama.

Jake was still taking risks and living dangerously. He still stayed out all night from time to time and woke up next to regrets in the morning. Rachel needed stable and steady, and Jake wanted that, too. Just not yet. Not in this decade. And maybe not the next. Really, he was doing her a favor by standing her up, showing her exactly what she could expect if she went on with her little office crush, if he gave in to her subtle flirts and took her to dinner and beyond. She was too good for him and he knew it. She was too sweet to be another regret in the morning. She deserved so much more -- her kid deserved so much more.

A loud bang echoed across his closed bedroom door, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

"POLICE! OPEN UP!" an exaggeratedly deep male voice boomed followed by a laugh. Not even a second later, and Jake's younger brother Paul threw the door opened. "Did I scare ya this time?" He asked with a proud smile on his face.

"Only 'cuz I thought I'd locked the house up," Jake answered, annoyed.

Paul sat down on the bed next to his brother with a big goofy grin on his face, holding up a key. "You gave me a key, remember? Last Christmas, when you went out of town for that thing."

"And this is why I've been asking for it back for the last seven months." Jake slid out of bed, dressed only in a pair of royal blue boxer briefs and a multitude of tattoos covering his body. He sauntered over to his dresser and pulled out a pair of basketball shorts and left the room, Paul right on his heels.

"Any word from Devon?" Jake asked as they entered the kitchen. He started a pot of coffee and turned for the fridge to see what sort of leftovers were still edible.

Paul's smile faded as a he took a seat in one of the mismatched chairs of the dining room. Jake must have felt his brother's mood suddenly change because he gave up on the hunt for food, and turned to look at Paul. He was a good looking guy of twenty-two. Medium brown hair, hanging shaggy around his ears and neck, and swept off his brow. He had the same strong cheeks and chin of their father, but their mother's emerald green eyes.

"No," Paul said somberly. "It's been three weeks, Jake. Where the hell could she be?"

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it?"

The percolator let off a burst of steam and then began to drain the black liquid into the waiting pot. Jake grabbed a mug from the dish drainer by the sink and waited for his daily dose of caffeine.

"Hannah's family heard within the week. Why the hell haven't we heard anything?"

"I'd go the rest of my life not hearing from her if it meant not getting the news the Hamiltons got!" Jake shot back. "Nobody deserves that."

Paul shot forward in the chair, wildly gesturing with his hands. "But have ya'll even checked the guy out? Could he have Devon?"

"What the hell, Paul?" Jake said, slamming the pot back into coffeemaker, exasperated with his brother's lack of confidence in the department. "Of course we've looked into it! Of course we've checked him out. Hannah's sleeping in her own bed tonight because of three brave officers that went in and took him down!" He downed the hot drink without even thinking about the temperature. "And before you ask," he said, wiping his lower lip with the back of his hand, "yes, we looked for Devon, too. She wasn't there. Nothing pointed to her ever being there. Even Hannah said she and Devon had separated before the incident."

"I don't know. If you ask me, it just seems a little more than coincidental that two girls -- best friends, mind you -- go missing on the same night while they were visiting another city. What if the douchebag had been watching them all night? What if he took Devon first and then Hannah? Or Hannah and then Devon? What if someone else took Devon? What if --"

"I get it, Paul! I get it! All questions we've been asking ourselves. All questions that have no answers... yet. But, we're looking. We'll always keep looking. We'll find her."

Paul's cell phone beeped from a text and he quickly pulled it out to check it. A quick glance had another frown on his face. "Well, that sucks," he said and slid the phone back into his jeans pocket. "Date just canceled on me."

"The blonde from the club the other night?"

"No, she only wanted a one-nighter. This one was a redhead." Paul shrugged and just like that, he seemed to be over it, but something began to sizzle in the back of Jake's mind. Something he'd have to work on a little later if he was to get a workout and shower in before getting to work on time.

Hopefully Rachel would be working a little late and he could catch her to apologize -- and to arrange a date... with Paul.

****

The downtown street in front of the police department was crowded with the combination of people getting off work and the night-lifers descending on the plethora of hotspots the city had to offer. Jake made his way up the steps and pulled the door open just in time for a mob of people to come out. It was his usual routine, telling the departing officers bye as they bid him well wishes for the night ahead. And as luck would have it, Rachel was the last one through the door. She looked tired and stress, and in desperate need for a break, for a night of fun.

And she walked right past him without so much as a "howyado" or even a glare. It was as if she didn't even see him. Didn't even see the door he was holding open for her.

"Rachel!" he called as she started for the steps. But when she didn't stop and turn around, he called again, "Rachel!" He quickstepped towards her and touched her elbow to get her attention. She stopped and turned to face him, surprised to see him there.

"Oh! Jake! Hey. Sorry. I'm lost in my own world today. Rough night with the baby and all. Hey! Sorry for standing you up today. It completely slipped my mind until after my lunch hour had passed and then I meant to send you a message and --"

"Rachel," Jake started placing a comforting hand on her forearm, "it's okay. I was actually counting on being the one to apologize. I stood you up, too. I figured you were pissed off with me, but I had to make it right. So, I'm sorry too."

She gave a relieved smile and huff, bowing her head to keep Jake from seeing the blush rising in her cheeks.

"Hey! So, I was going to ask if you have plans for tonight?"

Her blush deepened, her décolletage turning nearly purple. "No," she said, drawing the word out in a cute Southern accent. "But don't you work tonight?"

It was Jake's turn to blush. "Yes, but I have a brother, Paul. Good-looking, no bucked teeth or lazy eye or anything. Looking for a good, sweet girl. Whaddya say?"

"I... I...can't," she said after some time of thinking about it. "I'd love to," she added quickly, "but with the baby and all... not having a babysitter..."

"Well, as it happens, I know a great lady. She's sweet and motherly, well, grandmotherly now, actually," he said, floundering, "um, she's my stepmom actually. So, she would love to see Paul on a date with a good girl. I'm sure she would love to keep the kid for a while. Want me to call her? Want me to call Paul?" Jake knew he was rambling but knew of no way to stop it. "His date canceled on him tonight. Nothing serious," he quickly added when he saw Rachel's eyes grow big with that last bit of news. "Some girl he'd met, well hell, I don't even know where he met her. He just hated to have to cancel the reservations, so he needs a fill in. Not that that's the only thing you could be. Not that that he's looking to get married tomorrow. Oh, God, make me shut up now."

Rachel laughed and smiled again. "Sure. If both of them are up for it, I'll fill in for him. And, who knows, maybe we'll get married tonight."

"Great!" Jake pulled his cell out of his pocket to call his brother first and then his stepmother. "Not to the marriage part, that wouldn't be great. Not that I wouldn't be okay with you marrying him, that's not it either."

Thank God Paul answered on the second ring, saving Jake from further embarrassing ramblings. And after a quick summary, Paul was on board. One more call, and the babysitter was squared away, now all Jake had to do was survive the night and hear all about it in the morning.

****

The night dragged on for Jake, especially with his partner having the night off. His mind kept slipping back to Devon and the last night he saw her. She was a beautiful girl, average height, long blonde hair falling in waves nearly to her ass. Her eyes were a creamy chocolate, warm and inviting, and her laugh was intoxicating.

She and her best friend had been talking for several weeks about a trip to Atlanta, a girl's weekend away, and finally they'd figured out the perfect time to do it and gone down on a Friday. The two girls had stopped by his place on their way out of town to drop Sunny, Devon's ragdoll cat, off.

She'd called him that night to check on the cat and then again early in the afternoon on that Saturday. And then, nothing. From either girl. For over a week. Jake and three of his four brothers had gone down to Atlanta first thing Monday morning to find the girls and drag them home by their ponytails, but they'd returned to Nashville empty-handed and ready to burn the world to the ground.

A few days later, the Hamiltons received a call from Hannah and multiple police departments rushed in to rescue her. The scene was straight out of a parent's nightmare -- their child kidnapped and nearly sold into the ever growing sex trade industry. Another girl who had been kidnapped managed to steal a phone from a customer and brought it back with her, allowing a dazed and hungover Hannah to make the call to her parents.

Both girls had been severely punished by the bastards that kept them locked up, but the news was right when they called it an act of courage. Hannah had saved several other girls that day.

All of them were filthy and bruised, but their deepest cuts weren't physical. Hannah would need help for years.

Not for the first time, he felt sick to his stomach about it all. He'd watched Hannah and Devon as they grew up, seen them change from girls to young women before they blossomed into the knockouts they are now.

He'd been on the first flight out from Nashville when the department got the call about Hannah. He and his supervising officer had gotten there hardly an hour after Hannah had made it to the police station in Atlanta. His was the first familiar face she'd seen and after a proper hug, Hannah's world crashed for the second time in a week when Jake told her Devon had gone missing that same day.

Hannah told him everything she knew. How she and Devon had split up a few hours earlier for Hannah to get a massage while Devon went shopping. They had plans to meet up for dinner and then go to a honky-tonk outside of Atlanta, but Hannah never made it to her massage. Instead, she had been taken from the hallway of the hotel they were staying in, pulled into another room and quickly drugged to keep her from fighting. After that, her memory was hazy at best, with choppy scenes of travelling in the back of a dark box truck, a small house she caught a glimpse of just before she was blindfolded again, hazy memories of being stepped on as girls were brought to and taken from the small bedroom she'd been put in, begging for water, and having to squat in the corner to use the bathroom.

It had been the monsters' mistake of not blindfolding her quickly enough that had saved the girls. Hannah had been able to give her parents enough of a description of the front of the house to point police in the right direction. Her father had taught her well. The man was retired CIA and he'd raised her to take in the tiniest details of her surroundings and commit them to memory as quickly as possible.

But, Devon wasn't there. Hannah knew that for certain. And when the cops had questioned the guy staying at the house, he hadn't seen a girl matching Devon's description. For the second time, Jake had left Atlanta with more questions than answers and a twitchy finger, ready to detonate any bomb, to level any city to find his sister.

She was too young to be out there on her own, and while some told him she could have just decided to run away on her own, in his gut, he knew that Paul was right -- it was more than a coincident. Besides, Devon may have a wild streak a country mile wide, but running away wasn't her style. Not with her first year of college starting soon.

His phone beeped at him several hours into his shift and he looked at it. It was a cartoon of a thumbs up from Paul followed by a picture of him holding Rachel's sleeping baby. They must have hit it off. For that he was grateful. Just as he stuck the phone back into the cup holder it beeped again and at the same, a call came across the radio of a domestic disturbance.

Forgetting the phone, he radioed back that he would respond to the call and hit his lights to race through the city streets.

When he arrived on the scene, two other cars were already there and a man in handcuffs was being led to a cruiser. A toddler sat on the porch crying while a female office patted down the child's mother before placing her in custody as well.

"Someone pick up my baby! Please! Someone pick up my baby!" the mother hollered. "My baby need to be held! Don't leave 'er sitting there by 'erself. Please!"

Jake climbed the front porch steps and picked up the child, not for the mother's sake, but for the sake of the little girl watching the scene before her. He took her back to his car, popped the trunk and pulled out a white teddy bear, dressed in a purple princess dress. She took the bear and rested her sleepy head on his shoulder. He then pulled out a small blanket and covered her up. She sniffled against him a few times and instinctively, he began to bounce and sway with her. Before long, she was asleep, the events of the night exhausting her.

When it came time to pass the kid off to a social worker, he hated letting go, but his arms were growing tired and sweat was soaking both him and the girl, so he quickly whispered, "Good luck, sweetheart," in her ear and let the older woman take her; almost instantly, his arms missed her. He slowly walked back to his car and left the scene, sending up a quick prayer for the little girl, praying that their paths would cross again.

It was almost an hour after leaving the house and the baby girl behind, that he remembered he'd missed a message. It was another hour before he ever got a chance to look at it. And when he did, he was glad he was sitting at his desk at the department. He nearly choked on the burger he was eating.

It was sent from Devon's phone.

A phone that had been off for weeks.

The text wasn't long or prolific. In fact, it was short.

Two words.

Call me.

That was all it said.

And as much as he wanted to, as much as he prayed it was Devon who had sent that message, Jake knew any contact with her was part of an investigation, so he jumped up from his desk, nearly knocking his chair to the ground and ran through the department to the elevator. He hit the button to go up several times, but when that proved to be taking too long, he settled for the stairs, taking two, sometimes three, at a time up to the next floor to his supervisor's office.

"Devon just texted me!" he said, out of breath and gasping for air. He leaned over onto the superior officer's desk, stretching out the phone for his supervisor to see.

"Almost three hours ago. Have you called her?"

"I didn't have a chance to check it before now." He'd regained his composure, taking steady deep breaths to calm his racing heart.

The officer took the phone from Jake and plugged a cord into it; then, he called up two detectives. Once everyone was situated, Jake called his sister, and for the first time in weeks, it rang.

"Hello?" A deep, distorted voice answered.

"Who's this?" Jake asked, trying to keep composure.

"The better question would be, who are you?"

Jake looked to the detectives across from him. They nodded, indicating to him to give his real identity. "My name is Jake Connors. I received a message telling me to call you... to call Devon. Is she there?"

"She's.... unable to speak right now." The voice said in a slow manner, making sure to articulate each syllable.

"I... I just... I just need to know. Is she okay? Is she alive?"

"That's entirely up to you, Jake Connors."

His nerves caused his stomach to flip and he'd wished he'd decided to skip the burger. A light sheen of sweat broke out on his palms and face. "H,h,how is it up to me? What do you want?"

"What do I want?" The voice laughed, taunting Jake, pushing him to his breaking point. "Nothing you can give me."

"How, how is it up to me, then?" His nerves were solidifying and hardening into a pissed off anger. If the bastard was in front of him, he'd have drawn his weapon and fired, emptying the clip into the son-of-a-bitch.

"Your last little adventure got a little too close for my taste. Stay the hell away and I'll let her live. Come that close to me again, and she'll be dead before you get through the door."

And then the call was ended.

Jake racked his brain for what the caller meant about an adventure getting too close. Immediately the detectives started tearing the call apart for any clues. They asked Jake a thousand questions, but nothing was coming to mind. What adventure was the coward talking about? Where had Jake gone? What had he done? Each question came up with the same miserable answer, nothing.

His supervising officer sent him home an hour before his normal end of shift, seeing that he was going to be useless for the remainder of the night.

He went straight home and took a shower, washing the dust and grime and sweat away, as well as the tension and stress in his shoulders. The whole while trying to search his memory for the slightest bit of a clue. Eventually, hours later than usual, he climbed in to bed to sleep, Sunny already on the pillow beside his.

The cat hardly stirred as Jake got comfortable, but eventually snuggled up close to him, curled into the curve of his neck and began a deep soothing purr, lulling Jake into sleep.

****

Several hours later, Jake awoke with a start. It all came rushing back to him. He knew exactly where Devon was. His gut told him he was right, and he'd learned years ago to trust his gut. A quick call to his partner telling him his plans, and Jake was headed for the woods in Georgia. And this time, he wouldn't return without Devon.