James Lancaster hammered the doorbell until Floyd Green finally emerged, stretching lazily. "Easy there, Mr. Lancaster. Even the best doorbell can't handle that kind of pounding."
James ignored the remark, getting straight to the point. "Did you drive Clara home?"
The question irked Floyd momentarily, but James' urgent tone told him something was wrong. He nodded. "We got back an hour ago. What's happened?"
"She's missing," James said, his voice tight. "Phone's off—that's not like her."
Floyd's posture straightened. "Let's check security. If she left the complex, cameras would've caught it." He was already moving toward the guard station.
James noted Floyd's immediate concern with a pang of something bitter, but pushed aside his jealousy. Right now, he needed all hands on deck.
Insid
