Panic

Scott smiles and turns around, Katie’s arms still around his neck. His own arms wrap around her waist as he pulls her close. “Nah…this is too much fun to be work.”

After enveloping her lips in a kiss, he draws back, his eyes twinkling. “Want to do supper tonight?”


Bret chuckles. “Alright. I’ll pick you up at the hotel. And…I don’t know of anybody with any open places off the top of my head, but I’ll think.”

Starting to split from Charlotte to head for his car, he turns back around for a moment, flashing her a smile. “See you at six.”


Con gives a little sigh. “Oh, I’m alright. Shoulder’s been bothering me a bit, but nothing major…”

After a few minutes of talking, his and Jamie’s conversation is wrapped up with the agreement that Con will pick her up tomorrow night at six-thirty.


Carson hangs up his phone again, this time, a little concerned. Misty still wasn’t answering her phone. It was getting to be evening…she wouldn’t have been out and about for this long, would she?

Something in Carson’s gut warns him…almost like a red flag. It just wasn’t like Misty not to answer her phone, whether she was home or not.

Finally deciding to check it out if only to appease his conscience, Carson grabs his keys and heads out.

Arriving at Misty’s, things seem quiet…too quiet almost. Something makes the hair on the back of Carson’s neck. Confused by these feelings, he takes his small handgun from his back and knocks on the door. Nothing.

Trying the handle, he finds it open and steps cautiously inside. “Misty?” he calls. Nothing. “Misty!” Still nothing. Carson hears the ferrets chattering…that was odd.

Carefully sweeping the living room and kitchen, he finds nothing, still calling out Misty’s name. Sidestepping down the hall, he nudges her bedroom door open.

Glancing around for a moment, he sucks in his breath and steps forward more quickly, reaching out to touch the blood-soaked pillow. “No…” One name crossed his mind: Frankie. And Carson hadn’t been here. Panic sets in.

“No, no no…” Carson racks his brain for an idea…something to do…he had to do something. What had happened here? Was Misty really taken? Was she hurt? Dead? Was it really Frankie? Where were they?

Grabbing his phone again, he flips it open and starts to dial, then stops, hesitating. Starting over, he dials a different number and waits for Nate to answer. As he waits, he scans the room and spots the envelope with x-rays. Curious, he scans them as he waits for Nate.


"Way to go, now she's hurt." Morgan rolls his eyes as he paces the small room. "Not that I care...I bet that blood will scare Carson good." His tone indicates his pride in this fact. He glances down to the corner where Misty lies in a heap. "What now? You gonna ask ransom or did I do this for nothing?"