Even the ID he’d given was likely fake. Gabby stared at the forms, her thoughts racing. Josh hadn’t just lied—he’d planned this. He’d wanted Juniper and only Juniper. Her stomach turned. She needed a lead. Anything. And then it hit her: his car. She remembered the battered SUV.
She sprinted to the security office. “Please,” she begged the guard, “can we check the front gate footage from yesterday?” Together, they scanned the timestamp. There—Josh’s SUV turning out of the lot. The footage was grainy, but Gabby squinted and scribbled down what looked like the plate number.