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opinion. And when he needed help, he turned to his best friend. Payne hit his speed dial and waited for Jones to answer.
     
“Yeah?” Jones croaked, obviously sleeping in on his day off.
     
“D.J., it’s Jon. Something’s happened, and I need your help.”
     
That was all that Jones needed to hear.
     
 
     
 
     
FIFTEEN minutes later, Jones pulled up next to Payne’s SUV and studied the parking lot, but nothing seemed out of place. “Have you heard from her?”
     
Payne shook his head as he jogged over to Jones’s car.
     
“Don’t worry. That doesn’t mean something bad has happened. I’m sure there are a thousand possibilities that could explain where she is, so tell me everything you can. I’m sure we can figure something out.”
     
Payne nodded while shaking his friend’s hand. “I appreciate you coming over so early. I feel better just having you here.”
     
“No problem. It’s the least I can do for free office space.”
     
Payne smiled, but his body language told the real story. He was scared. “You know how I used to get gut feelings back when we were in the MANIACs?”
     
Jones nodded. “Your gut saved my ass more often than Preparation H.”
     
“I don’t know why, but I’m getting the same bad feeling right now. I know that something’s happened to Ariane. I don’t know what, but something.”
     
“Jon, listen. We’ve been out of the military for a while now, so the tuning fork in your stomach is bound to be rusty. Right? Besides, you’re not used to being awake at this time of day, so I’m sure your system is out of whack.”
     
Reluctantly, Payne agreed.
     
“Why don’t you fill me in on everything, and we can come up with some kind of solution.”
     
Payne nodded. “I walked Ariane to her door last night. She had a headache and said she needed to get some sleep. We made plans for this morning, then I went home.”
     
“You didn’t stay the night?”
     
“If I had, do you think I’d be out here?” he snapped.
     
“Sorry, I just—”
     
“No,” Payne apologized. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s just, I don’t know. . . .” He paused for a minute, trying to gather his thoughts. “I would’ve stayed the night, but she had a headache and thought it would be best if she got some rest.”
     
“So, you didn’t have a fight or anything?”
     
Payne shook his head. “I was supposed to pick her up at seven thirty. We were going to grab a light breakfast, then head straight for the golf course. She told me that she’d made an eight thirty tee time.”
     
“Fine. Now walk me through this morning.”
     
“I woke up early and showed up on time. I tried buzzing the intercom, but there was no reply. Next I checked the lot, and her car is here.” Payne pointed toward it. “I went back to the front door, and that’s when I noticed the duct tape.”
     
“What duct tape?” The two of them walked to the entryway, and Jones studied the way the tape had been placed over the lock. “Well, if something has happened to her—and I’m not saying that it has—I doubt we’re dealing with professionals.”
     
“Why do you say that?”
     
“Look at the placement of the tape. Instead of running the strip over the lock in a vertical fashion, they placed it horizontally, allowing us to see it.”
     
“And in your opinion, is this lack of professionalism good or bad news?”
     
Jones shrugged. “To be honest with you, it could be either. If something has happened to Ariane—and it’s still a big if in my mind—then there’s a good chance that other mistakes have been made as well. And that’ll increase our opportunity to find her.”
     
“That sounds good to me. So, what’s the bad news?”
     
“If this isn’t a professional job, there’s a better chance that someone will panic, and if that happens . . .” Jones didn’t have the heart to finish the sentence.
     
“Understood,” Payne grunted.