The call came a little after midnight. Al nearly sprang out of his seat when he heard his phone ring, he'd been so tightly compressed ever since he'd received an automatic notification from Modo that his booking was going to expire in thirty minutes.

It startled Samson enough that he bolted off the couch and away from him. The cat was already in a forlorn mood, meowing because Rachel wasn't home, looking in every room for her. Ever since they'd married, and Al had moved out of his old catified apartment, Samson had claimed Rachel as his mate, and for the first time in his life Al felt he was in a competition with a twenty pound cat for someone's affection; Samson had moved from the corner of the bed to the middle over the months, placing himself like a wall between husband and wife, and it irritated him. He really didn't know how to address the issue save locking him out of the bedroom, which would only result in heartbreaking yowling pleas and scratching at the bedroom door.

Up until now Al had been calling hospitals, beginning with St. Paul's, the closest to him, then Vancouver General, then St. Joseph's, then moving out to Burnaby Hospital and Royal Columbian in New West, then Surrey Memorial, and the Richmond Hospital just in case. He even tried Abbotsford Regional Hospital, thinking about where they'd found Joe's phone. None of them had a Rachel Mackenzie (she'd changed her name from Chan to let her friend Allison have the honour of being the only wife with her dead husband's name) or a Joe or Giuseppe DiTomaso registered as a patient with them. He didn't know if that was a good sign or not.

He'd also been drinking coffee with the grim determination to stay awake, and now his nerves jangled with the caffeine, his heart beat far too rapidly, and his muscles felt jagged and achy.

He looked at the screen. Modo Customer Service. He answered. "Hello?"

"Mr. Mackenzie?"

"Yes."

"This is Jared with Modo Customer Service."

"Hi, Jared, how are you?" he asked politely, holding his panic at bay as if it were an elephant trying to push through the door.

"Good, good. I see here a flag on your account to alert you when your Modo booking ran past the expiry."

"That's right. My wife made the booking and has since gone missing."

"Okay. Now that we have an interest in returning this car to its home, we're ready to reveal its location. Once we've revealed it to you, will you be able to go out there and bring it back?"

Al blinked in surprise. "Uh... well, my primary concern is finding my wife, not returning the car, but if I can locate her in the vicinity of the car, and take her home safely, I will of course drive her back in the car and bring the car back to its home space."

"Yes, well, of course, finding your wife is the priority."

"That's the best case scenario, mind you. I could get there and find out she's not there at all. Or she's there and in need of medical assistance. If that happens, I won't be too worried about the car, to be honest."

"No, but--"

"If I find that I cannot return the car myself, can I call you and let you know, and then you can send a tow truck, or something... actually, if something terrible has happened, the police may need to have a look at the car--"

"Mr. Mackenzie." Jared's voice was a bit louder than before. He wanted Al's attention. "May I suggest this? When you get there, and you discover the car cannot be returned, just call us. We'll figure it out from there."

He sighed. "Okay. Yeah. Thanks. So, where is it?"

"We've located it down in the River District of Vancouver, below Southeast Marine Drive, along East Kent Avenue. It's probably parked in the Gladstone-Riverside Park."

Al listened to this, feeling hollow inside his head. "What in the world would she be doing down there?" he murmured, almost to himself.

"Is this a location you recognize?"

"No. Not at all. I better write that all down, hold on."

He found pen and paper and had him repeat the directions. "I guess I better take a taxi down there," he said. "It wouldn't make sense to book another Modo if I have to take that one back."

"Yes, I suppose that would be the best option. I can also see what transit can get you there."

"Thanks, but no. I need to get there as soon as possible, and transit this time of night is pretty sparse."

There was a silence as Jared tried to think if there was anything else that needed saying. "Mr. Mackenzie," he said, "for what it's worth, I hope your wife is all right, and that you find her safe and are able to bring her home."

He felt inordinately touched. "Thanks very much, Jared. I appreciate that. I will call as soon as I can."

"Very good. We'll keep this flag on your account, and be assured no further charges are accruing from the extension of the booking."

"Thank you." Not his biggest concern but he also appreciated that. "Good night, Jared."

"Good night, Mr. Mackenzie."

He hung up and looked at the hammer in his other hand. It was about the best he could do for a weapon out of the things in their apartment. He'd thought about one of the kitchen knives, but he didn't want to walk around with one, be caught with it and questioned. A hammer was just a tool, its purpose could be better explained, but he could also hide it in his inside coat pocket and not risk it cutting him like a knife might. Plus, he just couldn't imagine stabbing anyone with it, it seemed so gruesome, and he also didn't want it taken from him and maybe used on him. So many things could go wrong tonight, he couldn't let himself think of them.

He called a taxi, put on a warm coat with deep inside pockets, slipped the hammer inside, and made sure the cat's food and water were topped up and his litter scooped before leaving the apartment. When the taxi pulled up, he gave the driver the directions. The driver must have been wondering what he was doing going to a park at this time of night, and from time to time Al saw him looking in the rear view mirror at him. Al could imagine the possibilities bouncing around in his head: a late night tryst in an out of the way area, maybe with a partner of his own sex, while the wife was sleeping soundly back in the apartment? A parking lot exchange of drugs for cash?

The meter was getting pretty high, and they weren't even there yet. Al phoned Lauren to update her.

"Hello?" she said sleepily. Maybe she had been able to go to sleep, and he felt sorry for waking her.

"Hi," he said quietly so the driver wouldn't hear him. "I'm on my way there."

"Where's there?" she asked, suddenly alert.

He rattled off the location. There was a silence, and then Lauren asked, "Why would they go there?"

"No idea."

"I'm scared, Al."

"Me too."

"A dark, secluded place might be the perfect place to do something bad. Do you have something?"

"Yeah." He wasn't going to let the driver know about the hammer, the poor guy might think he was going to rob him.

"Why don't you call Sunny?" she asked. "He can at least leave the kids with Tej."

He thought about it. He really did. It would be so nice to have someone with him right now.

"I don't think so. If I see anything suspicious I'm just going to call the police."

"Okay. Don't try to be the hero, Al. I know Rachel could be in trouble, but that doesn't mean you have to get yourself hurt."

"I won't. I'll call as soon as I have a chance."

"Good luck."

He hung up as the taxi pulled into the park, bumping across the train tracks and coasting into the parking lot. Its headlights swept across the dark pavement.

And there it was, the only other car in the lot. He saw the Modo logo on the driver side door.

"Can you pull up so your headlights shine on the driver side?" he asked the driver.

He did so, then turned to face him. "Look, I don't want to get involved in anything here. If this is some kind of marital dispute--"

"It's not. I'm not asking you to do anything. If you can just stay behind the wheel and wait for a second, I have to look over the car."

The driver looked at him hard.

"I'll pay you for your time. Just wait, please?"

"Okay. I'm staying right here, though."

"Thank you." Al stepped out of the taxi and walked toward the Elantra. The headlights illuminated it, but he couldn't see yet whether anyone was in there. He checked his Modo app just in case and matched the plate number on the booking to the one on this car. It was a match. He peered through the driver side window. Nobody in the front seat. Nobody in the back seat.

But what was that?

He unlocked the car with his fob and opened the driver side door. He peered closer at the streaks on the passenger side window. Droplets. They looked like blood.

He popped the trunk and went around the back, visions of hog-tied bodies dancing in his head. He took a shaky breath and lifted the trunk lid.

Empty.

Relief and frustration competed for supremacy in Al's body, leaving him quivering like a leaf in the wind. Where the hell were they? Was that blood on the window, and if so, whose?

He closed the trunk and strode back to the taxi. The driver wound down his window.

"I need to call nine-one-one," Al told him. "There may be someone in trouble."

"I'm not getting involved," he said.

"Yes, I know. Could you position your car so the headlights shine over that way?" Al gestured with his hand. "I need a path lit for me."

The driver gave him another shrewd look. "Are you going in there?"

"I have to. This is a friend of mine."

He nodded. "Okay. The meter's still running."

Al backed away and let the taxi back out and drive around to the other side. He saw the headlights illuminate a path of yellow, wet, fallen leaves over green grass.

He called 911, told the operator the situation, asked for the police and an ambulance, and stayed on the line while he followed the headlight beams into the park.

"Rachel!" he called. "Joe!"

"Are you all right, sir?" the operator asked him.

"Fine, I'm just calling to my friends in case they're somewhere around here. One of them might be injured."

"Sir, you should stay near the car for when the police come. If you believe they're in danger, you could be walking into danger yourself."

"I'm sorry, I just... I just need to do something!" To his embarrassment, his voice broke with emotion. "You know, while I'm waiting."

"I understand. Do you see anything?"

He sighed and looked around. There was a little playground, and there was a wharf leading out to the Fraser River. He didn't see any humans, though. "Nothing yet."

He described everything he saw, and found that the encouraging voice on the other end of the line comforted him, made him feel not so alone, but by the time the police came, he'd still found no sign of them.

Thanks for reading this far! An empty car and blood on the window, what's happened to Joe and Rachel? Read on to find out by clicking "Continue reading." If you liked what you just read, hit the "Vote" button and leave a comment.