Murphy visibly trembled. “We need assurances,” the union rep said.
Nic withdrew a folded paper from his jacket pocket. He’d been on a call when Cam had come in from the courtyard. This must have been why. He slid the paper across the table to Murphy. “Immunity from federal obstruction charges.”
“What about my job?”
“DOJ can’t guarantee that,” Nic said. “That’s BPD’s call.” Murphy looked from the union rep to Di, then to his captain. “You’re compromised, Billy,” Smith said.
“This is your daughter.” Cam drew Murphy’s attention back to him, back to what was important. “Is your job more important than her life?”
He hung his head, chastened. “No, of course not.”
“Do you have a pen?” the union rep asked.
“And a pad of paper,” Murphy added. Di got him both, and Murphy signed the deal, then started scribbling names on the legal pad. “Who I think might be involved.” He pushed the pad across the table to Cam. “But like I said, I didn’t recognize the voice on the recording. Or that place.”
“But they know who you are.” Cam handed the pad of names to Jamie. “Run these and let’s see if we can also trace the call origin.”
He nodded, already typing a mile a minute on his phone. “I’m on the boxes too.”
“We can go at this from two sides,” Matt said.
“Agreed. One team on the handoff, one team on the garage.” Cam turned back to Murphy. “Can you handle the meet?”
“It has to be me,” he said, voice shaking. “Me and me alone. No cops. That’s what he said.”
“You’ll be wired.”
Murphy shook his head. “He’ll see that. I can’t risk Shannon.”
“He won’t see the tech I’ve got,” Jamie replied. “And I can make the evidence look like it’s gone. Create a ghost of the record.”
“And we can mock up something for the handoff,” Matt said. “Embed a tracker.”
“All right,” Cam said, hearing all their bases covered. “The video said half past midnight. We’ve got work to do.”
Everyone around the table stood and hopped to it. Matt off with Di to call in the FBI from Chelsea, Jamie off to tech, and Murphy, with his captain and rep, off to a holding room.
When it was just him and Nic left in the room, the last half hour came crashing down and the remaining adrenaline rushed out of Cam. Eyes closed, he rested back against the edge of the table. Heat hit his side and Nic’s fingers brushed over his.
“Breathe, Boston.”
He sighed, head falling back. “She looks so much like Erin.”
“And yet we have a pretty good idea why she was taken, if not where.”
Cam righted his head, brow furrowed. “What are you saying?”
“You need to be prepared for Shannon’s case not to be connected to Erin’s. This may just be a runaway who got caught up with the wrong people who are using her as leverage.”
“Since when are you questioning the victim?” Cam made to snatch his hand back, and Nic held tighter. Forcing him to listen.
“I haven’t heard from the victim in this case. I’m giving her and her father the benefit of the doubt.” He glanced significantly at the immunity agreement on the table. “But I also talked to Becca—she looks just like them too—and she was a runaway, plain and simple.”
He was right of course. The investigator side of his brain knew that was the more likely scenario. That this wasn’t connected to Erin at all. But the brother and son part of his heart desperately wanted it to be.
Nic scooted closer, their shoulders brushing. “You need to be Special Agent Byrne with the FBI, not Cameron Patrick Byrne, grieving son and brother. Can you do that?”
Gazes locked, he reached for the grounding those blue eyes offered. “Regardless of whether she left voluntarily or was kidnapped, I don’t want her family to go through what mine did. They need to know.”
