Amber’s townhouse was a picturesque little thing, cream-colored with bay windows and arched doorways. Not a single light shone through the fitful rain; no one home. Rafi pulled into Amber’s parking spot, and Julian leaped from the car before it came to a full stop.
Stairs led from the sidewalk to the door; Rafi caught up with Julian poking through the bit of garden next to them. “Did you find something?”
Julian held up an empty Red Vines bag. “Christian’s favorite. Not proof, but I’m willing to bet he’s been here.”
Rafi turned in a slow circle, surveying their surroundings. “He might wait in the park,” he said, pointing across the street, where paths wound through trees and greenery.
“If so, he’ll be seeking shelter soon,” Julian said, jerking his chin at the sky. The rain was getting
