"Stay here."
I slip out of bed and move to the living room, answering before the third ring.
"Cross."
"We have a problem." Mace's voice is tight. Controlled. The voice he uses when things have gone sideways. "The leak investigation has concluded. You were right to be concerned."
"Carver?"
"Carver. He's been feeding information to the Castellanos for months. Names, locations, transport routes. They've been one step ahead of federal protection the entire time."
My blood runs cold. Vivian's suspicions, the ones she'd shared with me just days ago, confirmed. She'd told me about the Sacramento breach, about how Carver was on rotation thatnight, about the look on his face when she said she was turning in early. She'd been pushing the thought away, not wanting to believe it, but her instincts had been right all along.
"Do they know about this location?"
"Unknown. The leak was in the San Francisco office, not the transport team that brought Vivian to you. Taylor handled her transfer personally and kept Carver out of the loop. But we can't rule anything out."
"What about the Sacramento breach? Was that him?"
"That's the working theory. He was on duty. He would have had access to disable the alarm, let the shooter in through the service entrance. The timing matches."
The man Vivian killed with a lamp got inside because a federal agent opened the door for him. She'd sensed something was wrong that night, and she'd been right.
"I need to know what Carver knew," I say. "Transport details, destination, anything about Guardian Peak."
"We're working on it. Marshal Taylor is personally overseeing the interrogation. But Deck, it could take days to break him. Maybe longer."
"I don't have days. If the Castellanos know where we are?—"
"Then you do what you do best. You protect her."
I stop pacing and stare out the window at the darkness beyond. The snow from earlier has stopped, leaving the world blanketed in white. Peaceful. Deceptively calm.
"Keep me updated," I say. "Anything changes, I want to know immediately."
"Understood. Watch your back, Deck."
"Always."
I end the call and stand there for a long moment, the weight of the situation settling over me. Everything I've built here, every defense I've prepared, might not be enough. If the Castellanosknow where Vivian is, they'll send an army. They won't make the same mistakes twice.
And I'm one man.
"Deck?"
Her voice from the doorway makes me turn. She's standing there in my henley, arms wrapped around herself, hair mussed from sleep. She looks soft and vulnerable, but I can see the tension in her shoulders. She already knows.
"It's Carver, isn't it." Not a question.
"Yes."
She closes her eyes briefly, and I watch her absorb the confirmation of what she'd suspected for weeks. When she opens them again, there's grief there alongside the fear.
"I knew it. Some part of me knew it that night in Sacramento. The way he looked at me. The way he seemed almost nervous when I said I was going to bed early." She crosses the room slowly, her movements heavy. "I kept telling myself I was being paranoid. That the stress was making me see things that weren't there."
"Your instincts were right."
"My instincts got a man killed." She sinks onto the couch. "If I'd reported my suspicions, if I'd told someone what I was feeling instead of dismissing it?—"
