The room went deadly quiet.
“Fed?”Tower asked.
“Federal connection I think, but not certain,” I corrected.“Which means whoever did this isn’t stupid even if it came from her affiliation with me or her job.”
Dippy spun his laptop around.“I pulled the feed the second you called.That camera angle sucks, but it’s not nothing.”
I leaned in, hands braced on the table.“Enhance what you can.I want every frame cleaned.Every shadow sharpened.”
“Already on it,” he said.
“Route,” Gonzo said.“They didn’t just snatch her for fun.There’s a reason.”
“She works high-level investigations,” I shared.“Someone at her job made a comment about the Saints.About me.”
That got their attention.“Who?”Jester asked.
“She didn’t give a name,” I said.“Which tells me it’s someone she didn’t want me handling.”
Tower’s mouth flattened.“That’s a problem.”
“Yeah,” I said.“It is.”
Peanut exhaled smoke.“If this is a message, it’s a loud one.”
“It’s not just a message,” I snapped.“It’s leverage.”
Dippy looked up.“I’m pulling traffic cams around her building now.City feeds, private feeds, anything unsecured.If a car rolled out of there at that hour, I’ll find it.”
“You do,” I said.“Gonzo, I want a list of anyone we’ve crossed in the last year with reach in DC.”
“Already thinking it,” he replied.“Cartels.Contractors.Feds with dirty hands.”
“Tower,” I continued, “call in every favor you’ve got.I want eyes on back roads, safe houses, storage properties.Anywhere someone might think they could stash a person in that area.”
Tower nodded once and stepped away, phone to his ear.
My chest felt tight, like something was clawing its way out.
Char’s voice echoed in my head.Nita didn’t answer.
I forced myself to breathe.“She’s smart,” I said aloud, more to myself than them.“She’ll stay alive.She’ll be watching.Leaving a trail.”
Dippy snapped his fingers.“Got something.”
We all leaned in.
“A dark sedan,” he said.“No plates on the back.That narrows nothing, but—” He typed fast.“Wait.Front cam caught a partial reflection.I can work with this.”
“How long?”I demanded.
“Minutes,” he said.“Not hours.”
I straightened, hands curling into fists.“Good.”
Because I didn’t have hours.
I had one job.
