Page 73 of Jack

Wyatt frowned, and Coco looked up at Jack at the mention of her name.

“My cousin Ranger sent me your direction. Said you could help me with a small problem.”

She glanced at Wyatt, then back at Jack. “He texted me. Something about a phone?”

He handed her the smartphone, now dead. “There’s a missing woman, and this phone is from her Uber driver, who is fighting for his life after being shot in the head.”

Coco glanced at her son, back at Jack, one eyebrow up. The boy played a handheld video game, his earbuds in, but still.

“Sorry.”

“It’s all right. We usually don’t let him play videogames at dinner, but it’s been a long couple days, with back-to-back games.” She took the phone, then pried off the rubber case and opened the back. “SIM card is still here. I should be able to get the information from it.”

“What we really need is the GPS. His car was found out at the Duck Lake boat launch, but we need to know the route it took on Tuesday before he was . . . um . . .” He glanced at the kid. “Relieved of his driving position.”

Coco arched another brow but nodded. “Okay. It’ll take some time.”

“We don’t have a lot of time.”

“I see.” She glanced at Wyatt.

“I’ll catch a ride home after the game,” he said.

She set the phone down and turned to Jack. “What’s your number? I’ll contact you when I get the information.”

He gave it to her, and she put it into her phone, then sent him a text. His phone buzzed and he confirmed her text, adding her into his contacts. He dropped the phone back into his front pocket. “Thanks.”

“No guarantees, but I’ll do what I can.”

Jack headed back to his booth, and when the waitress swung by, he handed her his credit card to pay for the Marshalls’ lunch.

Meanwhile, Harper had been texting. She looked up. “I’m late for the spa day. Boo texted me. What do I tell her?”

He glanced at Conrad, back at Harper. “Nothing.”

“I’m not lying to my friend.”

“Listen. You’re not lying. You’re dodging.” He leaned forward, including Conrad in his huddle. “The last thing Boo needs to worry about is where Penelope is. You know her—she’s an SAR professional. She’ll activate her search and rescue gene, and suddenly her wedding won’t be on the radar. I don’t want anything to destroy this week for her.”

“She has a right to know?—”

He held up his hand. “Of course. But there is nothing she can do. We’re fresh out of leads. Until Coco comes back with a route, we need to keep this under our hats.”

“What about the police?” Conrad said.

“We already talked with Jenna. Can you forward me the second voicemail? I’ll swing into the sheriff’s office and give her the update.” He looked at Harper. “Without you.”

Her mouth opened. “Why?—”

“Because you have a spa date.”

She pursed her lips.

“And maybe Jenna will cooperate a little more if her nemesis isn’t doing the asking.”

“I’m not her nemesis.”

A beat.