Zephyr highlights one of the green dots. West Texas. Another deep in East Texas. One in New Mexico. Oklahoma. With each possible location, my gut tightens even more.
“More than a dozen bulk purchases in the last decade don’t align with businesses or legit co-ops. No schools, no ranches, no solar farms. Just pallets of panels disappearing into nowhere.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. “And no idea if any of them could be theirs?”
On screen, Zephyr leans back, cracking her neck from side to side. “I can narrow it down a little based on locations that were cold enough to induce hypothermia the night Grace was dumped. But that still leaves me with at least seven leads to chase down. I’m cross-referencing with shell companies that also made secondary orders. Bulk fertilizer, water filtration systems, razor wire…”
“We gotta get closer. Grace’s surgery?—”
“I’m working as fast as I can. But…there’s something else we’ve got to talk about. Remember that broken piece of plastic that was found in the burlap bag with Grace’s body?”
I sit up straighter, frustration raising the hairs on the back of my neck. “Fucking hell. I do now. Why is this the first you’re mentioning it?”
“It ended up in the bag with the ropes and the oleander flowers. Mikayla thought it was just some random piece of plastic and set it aside. But when Pritchard picked her up from her lab yesterday, he took one look at it and knew exactly what it was.”
“Well, spit it out.” My chest is already tight, and I force myself to breathe.
“It’s part of a firing pin. PLA filament, 3D printed. No serial number.”
“Ghost guns. Christ.” I rake a hand through my hair. “That’s cartel shit. The Cordova Cartel has been flooding the black market with ghost guns for the past five years now. Both here and in Mexico. Untraceable. Hell, when Jas got blown up, he was lookin’ for evidence the cartel was storin’ the raw materials in a warehouse down on Grand.”
I shouldn’t finish the sludge in my cup, but it gives me a beat before I have to give voice to my rage. “So the bastards who stole Grace from her life, who put her through three goddamn years of hell, are in bed with the cartel that almost killed my brother. The one I’ve been chasin’ for near my entire career.”
Zephyr’s expression doesn’t change. But her voice carries a sharp edge. “Whoever this Prophet is, he’s smart. Which means finding him just got a hell of a lot harder.”
“It means more than that.” I force the lump in my throat away. “It means Grace ain’t safe anywhere. Not at our home, not in the hospital. Not even in my fuckin’ arms.”
Zephyr leans forward, understanding in her eyes. “Then we’ll have to find them before they find her.”
“For fuck’s sake, how?” I’m actively shaking, rage and fear churning in my gut so violently, I worry I’m about to be sick. “This ain’t a cult livin’ off the land and singing about the damn ‘Glorious One’ around a campfire every night. These bastards have firepower, and they ain’t gonna be afraid to use it. Every step—every single move—we make from here on out just got a hell of a lot more dangerous. For all of us, but especially for Grace.”
“AJ… In the past two days, we’ve learned more than in the whole of the last two weeks. Knowledge is power, and we’re gonna ace whatever test gets thrown at us next. Go home. Be with Grace. As soon as I find anything, I’ll call.”
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. One way or another, I’m gonna burn this cult—and the whole goddamn cartel—to the ground.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Grace
“I’ll be fine.” With Belle curled up next to me on the couch, a fire in the hearth, and blankets piled all around me, I might as well be covered in bubble wrap. Since we missed girls’ night with our impromptu field trip to my old classroom—and I have no idea if I’ll even remember Parker, Emi, and Isabel this time next week—after we met with Dr. Ellicott this morning, I told AJ I needed time alone with them tonight.
He tried to dissuade me. He’s convinced Prophet is working with the Cordova Cartel. If he’s right, I’m not safe anywhere. Not even here, with a security system that rivals that of Fort Knox and enough fire power to burn down half of Austin.
But he also won’t deny me something this important. So, we compromised. The guys will hang out around the fire pit in the backyard until it gets too cold, then move their poker game into the heated garage while we hunker down in the fortress.
Emi and Jasper are the first to arrive. Emi carries a tote bag that looks like it could fit a week’s worth of groceries, and sets a little potted plant next to me on the side table. “I figured flowers were a no-go, but this little guy can come with you to the hospital,” she says before heading straight for the kitchen.
Isabel and Connor are only five minutes behind. This time, it’s Connor who hefts a giant bag while Isabel digs a pair of fuzzy purple socks out of her purse and drops them in my lap. “For after surgery. They have those little gripper dots on them and they’re super warm. Veronica loved hers after she got out of the hospital.”
Finally, Parker strides through the door like a woman on a mission. “All right, ladies. I brought the popcorn. What ridiculously funny and unrealistic movie are we watching tonight?”
I didn’t realize how much I needed this until all three women descend on the living room. Emi spreads a blanket over the coffee table and lays out bottles of nail polish, a stack of eye masks, and a bag of neon-pink marshmallows.
“Girls’ night emergency kit,” she says with a smile. “The queso and a couple of enchilada plates from Taco Aranda are in the oven warming up.”
My laugh surprises me. I wasn’t sure I had it in me today. “Exactly what kind of emergency requires marshmallows that bright?”
“Every kind,” Isabel says. “Tonight, we eat until we regret all of our life choices. Or none of them. It could really go either way.”
