Dean looked over at Jax as his partner entered the conference room. “Of course,” he replied like it was obvious. Because it should be. There was nowhere else he was going to be than working this case until he had Tayla safe and sound in his arms, and he certainly wasn’t going to waste time taking a nap even if he was supposed to still be in the hospital.
Ninety hours now.
That was how long she had been gone.
Almost four days.
Four days and they were no closer to finding her than they’d been when he awakened in the hospital forty-eight hours after the shooting.
“How can we not find him?” he demanded, shoving away from the table and pacing the length of the room, ignoring the pain in his arm, the lingering nausea, and the raging headache he knew was a mixture of dehydration, lack of food, and leaving the hospital too soon after being shot. “We know his name, finding where he has Tayla stashed should be easy.”
“We know his name but he’s basically off the grid,” Jax reminded him. “He has no listed place of residence, no job, no credit or debit cards.”
He knew that but no one could live in today’s world and not leave a footprint somewhere.
Somewhere, somehow, Jason would show them where he was hiding out but the longer it took the less likely Tayla would still be alive by the time they found him.
Dean opened his mouth to say something but then his gaze flew to the screen of his laptop. He’d been going on a hunch and assuming that Jason had to be getting about somehow which meant he had to be using a car, a stolen one since there was none registered in his name. That meant at some point he would have to go to a gas station.
“Bingo,” he grinned. “There he is.” Dean pointed to a man standing at a pump filling up an SUV. Grabbing his keys and cell phone he ran out the door. All they had to do was follow that car and it would lead them straight to Tayla.
Now he just had to pray she was still alive.