"Don't." She started pacing. "Don't tell me to be patient or strategic or any of that. Someone's trying to take my daughter.They've frozen my money, suspended my license, tried to kill me. And now Chantal might miss her pageant because of them."
Cory stood too, catching her shoulders gently. "You're right."
That stopped her. "I am?"
"We've been playing defense too long." His hands were steady, grounding. "Tomorrow morning we go at Osgood. Hard. Make him crack."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then we get creative." Something fierce flashed in those ice-blue eyes. "I told you—people are more important than rules. Chantal's more important than protocol."
She studied his face, seeing the resolve there. Chief By-The-Book was truly gone, replaced by someone seriously dangerous. A good man willing to bend rules for the right reasons.
"Okay," she breathed. "Tomorrow. Reed Osgood."
"Tomorrow," he agreed.
They settled back on the couch, but Izzy couldn't focus on the movie. Her mind kept circling to Chantal's video, to angel wings hanging in their empty apartment, to a Christmas pageant that might happen without her.
As you wish,Westley said on screen, and Cory shifted beside her. Not touching, but close enough that she could feel his warmth.
"We'll get her home," he said quietly. "I promise."
Promises were dangerous things. But looking at his profile in the TV's glow, remembering how he'd stood between her and danger again and again, Izzy found herself believing him.
Tomorrow they'd corner Reed Osgood and make him talk.
For Chantal. For justice. For the chance to see her baby wear those angel wings.
The movie played on, but Izzy's thoughts had already fast-forwarded to morning. To Reno. To answers.
They had six days to burn down this conspiracy and bring her daughter home.
27
Halfhearted snow spat from a low,sullen December sky, melting the instant it hit the windshield as Cory navigated the mountain curves with practiced ease. Izzy vibrated with nervous energy in the passenger seat—she'd been that way since 0500, mainlining coffee and checking her phone every thirty seconds.
"We go in calm," he said for the third time. "Let Osgood think it's routine questions about the Mountain Angel incidents."
"Then hit him with the offshore accounts." Izzy's fingers drummed against her thigh. "Watch him squirm."
"No. We build up to it. Start with inconsistencies in his reports. Make him comfortable, then?—"
"Then drop the hammer." She shifted in her seat, leather creaking. "I know, Cory. I've run interrogations before."
"In combat zones. This is different."
"You think I can't—" Her phone buzzed, cutting off what promised to be a spectacular argument. She read the message aloud.
Avalanche site secured. Knight Tactical team One has suspect in custody. We'd head home but we're pinned down by a storm. Hope to be wheels up in the morning.
"Good. Jack's team got their guy." Cory glanced at the message while navigating a switchback. Jack Reese led Knight Tactical's original team—solid operators who'd been doing serious personal protection and investigative work on an international level for years.
She typed back quickly.
At least someone's making progress.
The descent into Reno took forty minutes, the landscape shifting from pine forests to high desert scrub. By the time they reached the federal building, the snow had turned to cold drizzle that seemed to seep through everything.
