My jaw grinds.
Sam straightens, eyes meeting mine. “We need to think like him. Track his entry point, his timing, his window. He planned this.” He jerks his chin at the house. “Let the sheriff handle the paperwork later. You and I follow the trail.”
I nod once. “We split. Work faster that way.”
Before we move, Dawson puts a hand on my arm. “Maddox. A word.”
I follow him a few steps away. His face is tight, mouth pulled into a line I rarely see on him.
“You know I’ve got to report this,” he says quietly. “Kidnapping, break-in—federal crimes. I log this in, both names, your client’s and the perpetrator’s, it triggers protocols. People show up. People I can’t control.”
“No,” I say. “Not yet.”
“Ethan—”
“You didn’t log anything back at the station,” I remind him, voice low. “Not one word about Lucky. Or Sheifer. Because you didn’t know anything.”
He hesitates, and that’s the tell.
He didn’t.
Because he trusted me.
“And you don’t now. This was a false alarm,” I add, staring him down. “And you’re going home.”
Dawson shakes his head, half-frustrated, half-resigned. “You’re too involved in this.”
“You think?” I snap, then rein it in. “Give me time.”
He studies my face—whatever he sees there must convince him, because he exhales hard and nods once.
“Twenty-four hours,” he says. “You get her back before then, or I have to file. No exceptions.”
He turns, jerks his head at the deputy. “False alarm. We heard nothing, saw nothing. Let’s roll.”
The deputy climbs into the cruiser, bewildered but obedient.
Dawson lowers his window as the engine starts and holds my gaze.
“Twenty-four,” he repeats. Then he drives off.
Sam steps up beside me the second the taillights fade.
“Clock’s ticking,” he mutters.
Yeah. It is.
And whatever time Sheifer thinks he has—I’m going to take it from him.
Chapter 34
Lucky
Iblinkagainsttheharsh sunlight stabbing through the edges of the trunk. My head throbs, and the world tilts. For a second, nothing makes sense—why is it dark? Why am I moving?
Then it hits me. The smell. The metal. The cramped space. My stomach lurches, and my chest clamps tight.
I’m in a trunk.
