I slide into the back seat, settling Poppy into her car seat with practiced hands. Axel follows, sitting beside me rather than across, close enough that I can feel his warmth but not so close that I feel trapped.
As the driver closes the door, I look out the window at the Oregon landscape I swore I'd never see again. The familiar skyline in the distance, the mountains beyond, the heavy clouds promising more rain.
This is where it ends, I think, as the SUV pulls away from the hangar. Either I reclaim my life today or I lose everything trying.
Chapter 28
Axel
The SUV pulls into a rest stop twenty minutes outside Portland, the engine cutting off with a quiet rumble. I scan the empty parking lot, noting the single car tucked in the far corner, a nondescript gray sedan I recognize immediately as Reeves' rental.
"Wait here," I tell Sadie, keeping my voice calm despite my unease. "Security stays with you and Poppy. I'll bring him over."
She nods, eyes never leaving Poppy. The baby has fallen asleep again, lulled by the motion of the car, completely unaware of the storm gathering around her.
I step out into the thin drizzle, pulling my jacket collar up against the chill. Reeves emerges from his car when he sees me, tucking something under his arm as he approaches. His face, usually a professional mask of neutrality, looks grim.
"That bad?" I ask when we're close enough to speak without raising our voices.
He glances over my shoulder at the SUV with its dark windows. "Worse than we thought. Much worse."
"Show me."
"Not here." He nods toward the SUV. "She needs to see this too."
I lead him back, signaling to the security team that he's cleared. When I open the door, Sadie's eyes lock immediately on the leather portfolio Reeves carries, her body tensing visibly.
"This is Michael Reeves," I say, sliding in beside her as Reeves takes the seat opposite. "The investigator I told you about."
Reeves nods to Sadie, his manner respectful but direct. "Ms. Calloway. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances."
"What did you find?" Her voice is steady, but I can see her hands trembling where they rest protectively near Poppy.
Reeves opens the portfolio and removes a sealed envelope.
"First, the basics. Elliot's full name is Elliot James Whitcomb. Forty-two years old. Currently operates under at least three additional identities that I've confirmed."
He passes over documents—driver's licenses, passports, each with Elliot's face but different names.
"He's not just a financial advisor with boundary issues. He's a professional con man with a very specific pattern."
Sadie's breathing quickens as she looks at the IDs. I let my knuckles brush the edge of her thigh, close enough to feel the heat of her skin. I want to pull her closer, feel her pulse under my palm, but I hold steady. She’ll reach for me if she needs more. For now, the restraint is its own brutal satisfaction.
Reeves continues, his voice clinically detached.
"He targets women with recent inheritances or financial windfalls. Marries them, convinces them to combine assets, then systematically drains everything before disappearing. You're the seventh in the last twelve years."
"Seventh?" Sadie whispers.
"The only one who got away before he finished." Reeves removes several photographs from the envelope. Women, all with similar features to Sadie, dark hair, delicate build. All smiling beside Elliot in wedding photos.
"Most lost everything. Two had mental breakdowns afterward. One committed suicide."
My jaw clenches so tight I can feel my teeth grinding. I force my breathing to remain even, my posture relaxed, though every muscle in my body screams to find Elliot and make him pay.
"That's not all." Reeves hesitates, glancing at Poppy before continuing more quietly.
"There's evidence he's escalating. The last woman, Lisa Carrington, disappeared three months ago. Police suspect foul play—but no body's been found."
