I hurried out and weaved my way around the staff cubicles. The other employees hardly gave us a passing glance.
I walked into Mia’s cubicle and wondered how she’d tolerated this small space. My sweet Mia had sacrificed comfort for the sake of making her own way. A chill washed over me when I saw her handbag resting in the bottom of the desk drawer. I knelt to rummage through it, looking for anything that might give away her location.
Inside I found her wallet with her credit card—she only needed one because it had no limit—and some cash. So the chance of her having left the building was unlikely. Maybe she’d absentmindedly removed her watch?
That’s bullshit and you know it.
I glanced over at the opposite cubicle, at the young woman staring at us. Her expression reflected recognition and I recalled where we’d met. This was Mia’s friend, who I had asked to dance. Kelly, I think?
She was probably wondering why her boss was inside her colleague’s workspace going through her things.
Shay lingered near the cubicle. “We’ll find her.”
“Contact the authorities,” I snapped.
“I’ll make the call.” Shay’s eyes widened as he read something off his phone.
“What?”
He raised his hand as though trying to get me to remain calm.
Despite his fuckup and the agonizing fact Mia was in danger, I held back on my rage.
“Speak to me, Shay.”
“She went out the back via the stairs. She was escorted by two men.”
“Tell me they work for you?”
Shay gave a wary shake of his head. “She got into a Mercedes-Benz SUV.”
We stormed toward the emergency staircase and took them two at a time, retracing her steps and searching the ground in case Mia had dropped a clue. Behind me, Shay was ordering his men to run the number plate caught on the CCTV.
When we finally reached the bottom, I approached the middle-aged guard at the rear door and breathlessly asked, “Did you see a young blonde woman leave here with two men?”
He shook his head. “Just started my shift.”
I processed the convenience of such a fact and wondered if the men had waited for the staff to change.
Outside on the pavement, I stared left and right hoping to see a trace of some sort.
Shay caught up with me, also out of breath. “From the footage, Mia’s not struggling. She doesn’t seem distressed.”
“Witnesses?”
“Just the security footage.”
“How did they get in without being seen? How did they get access?”
“I’m trying to figure that out.”
“Have their faces run through your recognition software.”
His phone pinged and he stared at the screen. “Okay, we have something. Lance Merrill owns a Mercedes-Benz SUV. Not sure if he actually owns the one on the camera, though.”
“Where does he live?”
“I’m on it.”