A couple clicks later, a view of the back door and lot appeared on-screen.
The duty officer rewound the tape, and sure enough, Smith snuck out and into a cruiser with Murphy, who was identifiable by the stabilizing sling around his arm. Once they hit the street, they turned on the lights and sirens and sped away.
“They’re trying to handle it themselves,” Di said.
“How long ago was this?” Jamie asked.
The duty officer toggled down, popping up the time stamp. “Ten minutes.”
“Fuck!” Cam just stopped himself from ramming a fist into the wall, frustration and lack of sleep almost getting the better of him. Nic moved to contain him, and Cam’s gaze snapped to his. He was causing a scene but better here than out in the bullpen. He needed to rail, and Nic, seeming to understand, nodded, making himself the target. “My name was on the fucking phone!” Cam shouted. “That was our best shot at finding Shannon.” And it might have been his only shot at finding his sister.
“We can ping the GPS on the cruiser,” Di said.
Jamie slid into the chair next to the duty officer, opening his laptop. “Did your techs make a recording of what was on the phone?” The officer nodded. “Drop it to me. I’ll be on your network in less than a minute.”
“How?”
“Don’t ask,” Nic said, then to Cam, “Better?”
“Depends what’s on that recording.”
“Boston.”
Cam took a deep breath, forcing himself calm. “I’m good. Thank you.” Nic stepped aside, and Cam moved behind Jamie, telling him to hit Play when a voicemail window popped up.
“Hey, Twenty-four, I got something you want. Let’s make a deal. Meet—” The recording cut out, fading into static.
“Fucking hell!” Cam roared.
Before he could grab something to throw or ball his fists, Nic clasped his biceps from behind. “Breathe, Boston.”
He vibrated in the other man’s hold. “He knows me.”
Jamie twisted in his chair. “The nickname?”
“My jersey number in high school.”
“If you wore it at BC too . . .” Nic said, but Cam was already shaking his head.
Jamie answered for him. “He wore twelve at BC, same as me at Carolina.”
“You recognize the voice?” Nic asked, still holding him, only lighter now.
He was the only thing keeping Cam grounded. Keeping him from flying off in a million directions. “No, but it was a big fucking high school.”
“Can you—” Nic started.
“School rosters, got it,” Jamie said before he even finished, whipping back around, fingers flying over his keyboard.
“You can search back that far?” the tech asked.
“Don’t ask those questions,” Jamie said, at the same time Cam snapped, “I’m not that old.”
Jamie lifted his fingers off the keys a minute later. “That’s why you recognized the name.”
“The name from Becca’s list?” Cam and Nic asked together.
“Yep.” Jamie highlighted a name on the screen. “Reid Porter. He went to your high school.”
