"Should have thought of that before conspiring with Houzer." Preston's dismissal was casual, cruel. "Federal investigation takes precedence over personal problems."
"She's under my protective custody," Cory said, stepping forward. "Her expenses are covered."
The agents exchanged looks that made Izzy's skin crawl.
Debartolo shook his head. "Careful, Chief Fraser. Aiding and abetting is a career-ender. We'd hate to see Hope Landing need a new police chief."
"Is that a threat?" Cory's voice had gone dangerously quiet.
"Just friendly advice," Preston added. "Have a nice day."
They left with the satisfied air of cats who'd cornered mice. Izzy sank into her chair, legs suddenly unable to support her.
"My accounts. All of them?" She pulled out her phone with numb fingers, checking her banking app. Already updated. Available balance: $0.00.
"Chantal's college fund. My emergency savings. The Christmas money I'd set aside—" Her voice broke. "I have eighty-seven dollars in my wallet. That's it."
"Izzy—"
"How can they do this?" She was on her feet now, pacing. "No trial, no conviction, just freeze everything? What if Chantal needs something? What if there's an emergency?"
"There won't be." Cory caught her shoulders, stilling her frantic movement. "You're not alone in this. Your expenses are covered. I meant that. Plus, you’ve got your Knight Tactical family. No one is going to let this affect anything you need. For you or your family."
"I can't take your money?—"
"You're not taking. I'm giving." His hands were steady on her shoulders, grounding her. "That's what partners do.”
The word 'partners' settled something in her chest, even as pride warred with necessity. Plus, she had her team. No way they’d let this stand. It might be a while, but she’d get her funds back.
One way or another.
Still, the timing…. If Andrew found out she was technically broke….
"Let's get back to work," she said, needing action over emotion. She and her team had taken down worse baddies without Cory’s help. Whoever was doing this had no chance.
They dove back into the analysis with renewed determination. The patterns were damning. Tool marks similar to the ones on the servo Brad worked on matched not just Mountain Angel, but every sabotage case across three states. But there was no evidence that Houzer had worked on any of the aircraft but the Mountain Angel planes.
Izzy pulled up timelines. “We’ve got another issue. Look at the inspection reports for all these companies."
Tom Morrison's name appeared again and again. Not on every case, but enough to establish a pattern. And his reports always found "safety concerns" just before the sabotage hit.
"That's one suspect." She added Tom's name to their board. "Who else benefits?"
"Reed Osgood." Cory pulled up financial records. "He was lead FAA investigator on five of these seven cases. Always rules them mechanical failure."
"Convenient." She added Reed's name. "And then there's?—"
"Sloane Barnes-Nakamura." They said it together.
Every single company that failed ended up absorbed by corporations connected to MedFlight. Not always directly—sometimes through subsidiaries or partners—but Sloane's fingerprints were on every acquisition.
"Three suspects," Izzy said. "All with motive. But no solid evidence against any of them."
A knock interrupted her thoughts. The security monitor showed Tom and Janet Morrison at the door.
"Speaking of suspects," Cory muttered.
Tom looked haggard when they let him in, Janet hovering at his elbow like a concerned shadow.
