FIFTY NINE

The Aston Martin screeched to a halt in front of Ma’s Bakery but the shop was as dark as the midnight sky. There was no one there.

Fabian frowned, reaching for his phone to call Amber again only to be directed to her voicemail. Ten seconds passed, twenty seconds passed and still, he failed to reach her.  

Damnit! Where is she? He should have gotten Margaret’s phone number when he had the chance.

Fabian would have reached Ma’s Bakery earlier had he not taken a wrong turn. He had stubbornly refused to use the navigational system as well as the auto drive, preferring to search for Amber on his own; and was just about to reverse his car out of a godforsaken street when he saw a young man lying on his back at the side of the road. He probably would have missed the young man had a dark blue Toyota not caught his attention. It was obviously a hit and run case as the car sped off with a demonic speed into the night. And though there were only a few working