"Deal."
They hung up. His brother would have specialized guards a phone call away.
The local Miami PD would be on his side. He probably should have called them already, but he thought the FBI and Morgan security would be enough. He held himself together and dialed.
"This is the emergency line. How can we help you?"
John swallowed, aware that every word he spoke was recorded. "Someone left me two threats that they intend to kill Alice Collins. Now she's disappeared and I don't want anything to happen to her."
The word kill must have been all he needed to say. The second he finished his sentence, the woman on the phone responded. "Dispatch is on its way, Mr. Morgan."
Of course everyone knew who he was. Today he'd have to use the name. "Thanks."
He hung up the phone and gazed out at the morning sun. The smell of coffee from the automatic machine permeated the air. He went to the garage but Alice's SUV was gone. He picked up his phone to call her, but the squad car squealed in the distance.
In the front hall, he put on his socks but left his sneakers at the door.
John's mind ran through everything. Alice would likely go to her parents. Her mother hated him. If he went to her as he was, he'd smell of sex. A shower would cure him, but there was no time.
Instead he walked into the kitchen, picked up his phone, texted Vicki and Alice to call him and poured two mugs of coffee. One was an offering to the officer who would arrive any moment.
The silence in the house made his skin itchy. He sipped his coffee. The caffeine sent his blood into overdrive. He had to do more. He picked up his phone again. No text from Alice. No missed calls. Her mother might have answers. As he dialed her house phone, he prayed everything was fine and that Alice was there.
On the second ring, her mother Ellie answered, "Hello?"
"Mrs. Collins."
The gasp held obvious disdain. "John Morgan."
Now wasn't the time to win her over. His words rushed together. "Is Alice there?"
"She's not with you?"
The more people that looked for Alice, the safer she might be. He had to tell her. He blinked. No police cars were on his street yet. "I know you don't like me."
"Like is too soft a word, Mr. Collins. My daughter deserves better than you."
"I agree. She deserves everything the world can offer her."
"Then let her go."
A lump formed in his throat and he couldn't get rid of it. "I can't."
Her loud breaths said plenty. "Why are you calling me?"
John closed his eyes. He wished he didn't have to say this. "Alice is in danger. Someone wants to kill her because of me, and now I don't know where she is."
"What do you mean, kill her? I thought the news said that was because of the threat to the President, and that was your brother, Peter Morgan, who sent that security car outside our farm."
Her words were crystal clear. He blinked and in the distance he saw the lights of police cars. "Someone wants to murder her."
"Who?"
There was so much to say, but he had no answers. "I don't know. The police are on their way to my house to pick up the threats. She's gone. I don't know where she is and I was wondering if she'd contacted you."
"Oh my goodness. You're not making this up. My daughter had better be safe."
He walked toward his shoes and slipped them on. "Call her. She's not answering my calls or texts."
