“Jeremy, every second you waste in here is a second that keeps us from Raina,” I say. “Do yourself a favor and end it here. You’re not going to get the money.”
“You’re not going to get the girl either,” Max says.
Jeremy spits out blood. “You can keep the cow.”
Vincent comes down on him hard. It only takes one punch to cause a couple of teeth to come loose.
“We can make this last until you beg us to kill you,” I tell Jeremy. “Back in Kandahar, we did a lot worse for a lot less.”
A knock on the door brings everything to a halt. Jeremy almost breathes a sigh of relief until Vivian’s voice comes through.
“I’ve got something, guys.”
Cautiously, Max opens the door for Vivian. She comes in with a small stack of printed papers.
“Vivian, call the police, please,” Jeremy tries, but Vincent punches him again.
She flinches and stares at him for a moment, then takes a deep breath and gives me the papers. “So what Jeremy doesn’t know is that all of our phones come with detailed call logs. It was part of a privacy waiver we signed upon joining Bancroft & Associates. It was in the fine print.”
She pauses to confirm by the look on Jeremy’s face that he did not pay attention to said print. “I was able to pull a detailed list of outgoing calls from the past couple of weeks. Have a look and tell me if you recognize a name or a number.”
It doesn’t take long for a familiar extension to pop up.
My blood runs cold. The shock stiffens every muscle in my body, and I briefly lose my ability to breathe as the implications unravel in the back of my head. For the sake of clarity and confirmation, I take my phone out and check the number against my contact list.
“What is it, Alex?” Vincent asks.
All eyes are on me now, including Jeremy’s, who looks pale. He knows what I found, and I think he understands what it means for him. Good. I want the dread to eat away at him.
“This is Deanna’s number,” I tell the guys.
“What?” Max gasps and snatches the papers from my hands. “Shit.”
“The last call went out a couple of hours ago,” I say, then look at Jeremy. “Were you checking up on her and Raina?”
Vincent checks the papers, too, then hands them to Vivian, along with a business card. “Viv, do us a favor. Email all of this stuff to our guy, Luke. His details are on that card. It’s evidence now.”
“You’re never going to find her in time,” Jeremy says. “Deanna knows what to do in case I miss a check-in call.”
“Oh, we’ll find her,” I calmly reply.
“Not without my help.”
“We don’t need your help anymore,” I say and dial Luke’s number, then walk away from Jeremy altogether.
“Should we leave him there?” Vivian asks, following behind me.
“Do you care?” I shoot back.
She shakes her head slowly. “Not really, no. But there’s something else I need to tell you.”
“What is it?” I pause in the middle of the hallway.
“Raina’s pregnant. I’m worried about her, about her condition. The faster you get to her?—”
“She’s what?” I interrupt, unsure whether I heard her correctly.
Vivian takes a deep breath. “She’s pregnant. And she’s going to kill me for telling you, but you all need to understand what’s at stake here.”
