The other team members were already seated at the table when the newcomers entered and settled into empty chairs. Hamm paced nearby, face steely and focused, sleeves rolled up, dark hair mussed as if he'd run his hands through it too many times.
Too agitated to sit, Cade leaned against the back wall with arms crossed, trying to wrangle the worry and anger that plagued him. He knew they had no leads on Tristan's location, and even if their theory about the Handler having Tristan was right, they didn't know how to find the crime boss either.
What if he never saw Tristan again? The idea made him feel sick, enraged, and insane all at once.
Natalie paused before she got to the table, her eyes scanning the room as if unsure where to sit. When Annabeth invited her to settle onto the sofa and relax, Cade watched Natalie throw her shoulders back. "I want to listen."
Annabeth nervously glanced at Hamm, and he approached the girl. "You must be Natalie. I'm Hamm. I know you're worried about Tristan, but I'm not sure you want to listen in."
"I do. I can handle it," Natalie insisted.
"Some of this stuff can be a little... unsettling."
"Hearing it can't be worse than living it," she countered confidently.
Cade saw Hamm's jaw clench as Natalie continued, "I want to know what's going on. He's my brother." Her voice was steady, and she clearly wasn't going to back down.
Just like Tristan.
After a few beats, Hamm relented, "Okay, fine. Have a seat."
After Hamm resumed his position at the front of the room and Cade's team related the details of Tristan's disappearance, Hamm announced, "Assuming he's been taken, we need ideas on how to find him. What have you got?"
Cade listened in stony silence, trying to stifle screams of frustration as his colleagues bounced around suggestions.
"The theory is someone from the operation found him and took him to the boss, right?"
"That's our leading theory, yes, so we have to find the Handler."
"But we've been searching for him for weeks with no luck."
"And we have no leads."
"We have one — the driver," Taylor pointed out.
"Yeah, we've got him here," Hamm said, motioning to the closed door. "I've got his phone, and if it rings, we'll have him answer. With any luck, it will be the Handler calling."
"But again," Tag warned, "With the girls rescued and the houses empty, he's not going to call the driver for any pickups."
The room was quiet for several seconds, and Cade bit his lip hard, hoping the sharp pain would prevent his emotions from spiraling out of control. He had nothing to add, couldn't think of any other angle they'd missed.
"What else? Anyone?" Hamm prompted.
"Maybe try to access street cams around the location? See if we can identify any vehicles that might have gone to the house?"
"Good idea. Annabeth, can you do that?"
"Yeah. There aren't many cams in the area, but I'll try."
"Good. Any other ideas?"
"If the girls are gone and the auction is off, there's sure to be chatter about it, right? Like, people will be mad, asking why. If Annabeth can scan for communications about that, maybe one will give us a clue."
"Good point," Annabeth answered. "I can put out a spider, see what turns up about the auction and sudden shutdown. There will be unhappy customers. Maybe they'll try to contact the Handler, and we can find him that way."
"Do it. Anyone else?"
No one spoke. They had so little to go on, Cade realized, his mind buzzing with disbelief. There had to be some clue, some intel, something they were missing.
