“Blue something. Blue whatever. Blue this, Blue that. Doesn’t matter what the business does—shell company ties eventually point to the same guy who’s associated with EJV Industries.”
Buddy stared at the list.
Blue Heron Boat Tours
Bluewater Restoration
Blue Coast Realty Group
Blue Marlin Logistics
Blue Reef Holdings
Blue Atlantic Renovation
Blue Horizon Imports
All of them arranged like steppingstones up the eastern coast of Florida. Not illegal. Not even suspicious in isolation. But together… they made too much noise in his head to ignore.
Buddy leaned back, the stool creaking under his weight. “EJ Vance. I’ve looked through my files from Simon’s case, and he doesn’t come up once. I called a few contacts, the name doesn’t ring a bell, but they’re digging.”
Sterling rolled his shoulders. “He’s the only person whose connections don’t add up the way they should. Mia’s been digging. She’s done everything short of hacking into the DMV. Everyone on our team has called in favors from every alphabet agency. Nothing’s pinging yet.”
“I’ve exhausted my resources and haven’t found anything of interest,” Dawson said. Not defeat—just truth. “Tomorrow’s gonna be controlled chaos. The entire town, plus another hundred or so. That’s about 500 people cruising through town. We need to walk in with something. Even a maybe.”
Buddy rubbed a hand along his jaw. The stubble rasped against his fingertips, grounding him when the night had gone sideways three times already. “He’s got to be our guy. Nothing else makes sense.”
“Because we’ve got nothing else,” Dawson countered, “and he’s also smart enough not to leave breadcrumbs.”
Sterling shifted against the wall. “Or he’s not involved at all, and we’re staring at the wrong thing. Looking at the wrong clue. I’m stuck on the audible call.”
“You mean, this asshole could change the game—again?” Dawson asked.
“I absolutely believe I was meant to find that first victim, not Fallon. I was out on the water, in that location for a client that bailed before we could even give them the report,” Buddy said. “Second one was all about watching my response, by using my girlfriend, knowing she was my girlfriend based on the fact that this prick’s been watching. The audible’s already been called. It’s up to me how this plays out and what Fallon’s role in it is.” Buddy didn’t mention the memory that flashed through his mind —the jacket folded inside the box, the note tucked beneath it, the weight of it in Fallon’s hands. He nudged the stack of files again. “Even if we’ve got the wrong guy, and this EJ Vance has nothing to do with this, someone is watching me and Fallon. They have been for a while.”
Dawson’s expression tightened. “That’s the part we can’t ignore. It’s also the part we’ve got to exploit.”
Buddy knew that was coming. He didn’t want to face it. He certainly didn’t want to express it. But there was no hiding from it.
Silence settled in again, thicker this time, the kind that clung to the walls and made the quiet feel inhabited.
Sterling broke it. “You know what we’ve got to do.”
Buddy’s pulse flicked hard at that—old instinct, old dread. “What exactly do you mean?”
“You can’t be glued to her,” Sterling said. “If someone wants to manipulate you, they’re going to pick the moment you step away. So, we plan for that moment.”
Dawson nodded slowly, reluctantly, as if he hadn’t wanted to suggest it, and was grateful someone else had. “We make it predictable—we can control predictable.”
Buddy stiffened. “I’m not so sure we can.”
“We’ve done this a million times.” Sterling didn’t soften it. “Let her be where he expects her. Alone enough to look vulnerable. Visible enough to draw him out.”
Buddy’s jaw locked. “No.”
“It’s not?—”
“I said no,” Buddy interrupted Sterling.
