Exactly what Gabe needed to hear from another operator who understood how fear could compromise clear thinking.
He nodded. Wade clapped him on the shoulder and lumbered off.
The coffee Reagan handed him was strong and hot and more than necessary about now. He positioned himself where he could see Tom's screen, watching the technical work proceed with methodical precision.
An hour passed. Then another. Tom worked in silence, occasionally muttering technical terms under his breath. The others talked quietly, processing the night's events and the danger they'd all stepped into while Piper dove into the online world on her phone.
Gabe studied the group with new appreciation. Tom with his unexplained technical expertise and security knowledge that went far beyond handyman work. Wade with the combat readiness he was no longer bothered to hide. Reagan with her months of systematic intelligence gathering.Even Piper with her sharp observation skills and creativity.
They were all hiding something.
But they'd shown up when it mattered, risking themselves to help find a man most of them had never met.
"Hey, you guys..." Tom's voice cut through the quiet conversation. "I found something."
Everyone moved to the table immediately, forming a circle around his laptop.
Tom turned the screen toward them, his expression serious. "The phone had GPS tracking enabled. I pulled the location history from the past month before David disappeared. This popped up from 3 days ago."
A map appeared on the screen showing red dots clustered in several locations around Haven Cove. The warehouse where they'd just been. Downtown Haven Cove. The marina and docks.
And one location twenty miles north with a dense concentration of points that drew Gabe's attention immediately.
"What is that?" Cara asked, leaning closer to study the satellite view.
Tom zoomed in on the location. A small cluster of buildings appeared along a lonely stretch of highway, surrounded by forest and industrial decay.
"The Rusty Anchor," Wade said, recognition in his voice. "Tavern in Granger Point."
"David's phone pinged there repeatedly over a two-week period," Tom said, pulling up detailed timestamps. "Multiple times daily. Always brief visits, ten to fifteen minutes. Pattern suggests he was getting supplies, checking in, maybe using their WIFI."
Gabe leaned closer, studying the pattern. The pings at the warehouse had stopped three weeks ago. Then nothing for aweek. Then the tavern pings started and continued for two weeks.
"He moved operations," Gabe said, understanding dawning. "Set up the warehouse camp initially, realized Haven Cove was too hot with the cops on payroll, relocated twenty miles north to Granger Point."
"Makes sense," Wade said. "Close enough to observe dock activity, far enough to stay off local radar."
"Last ping at the tavern was three days ago," Tom added, his finger tracing the data. "Then nothing until we found the phone at the warehouse tonight."
Cara's eyes widened with understanding. "He went back. Three days ago he returned to the warehouse for some reason."
"And had to run before he could grab the phone," Gabe finished. His chest tightened. "Or left it deliberately. As a breadcrumb in case something happened."
"But why go back at all?" Piper asked. "If he'd relocated to Granger Point and felt safer there, why risk returning to a place he'd abandoned?"
Gabe stared at the unsent message still visible on the screen. *Meeting you at 0200.*
"The message to Ruiz," he said. "It's dated three weeks ago - the night David first disappeared from the warehouse. But what if they'd arranged another meeting? A follow-up after David gathered more evidence?"
"Ruiz's body was found three days ago," Reagan said, the timing clicking into place.
"Exactly." Gabe's stomach dropped. "David wouldn't have known Ruiz was dead. He returned to the warehouse to meet him, walked straight into whatever had just gone down."
The group fell silent, processing the terrible timing.
David had spent two weeks successfully hiding in Granger Point. Had been careful, methodical, safe.
Until he'd come back for a meeting with a man who'd already been murdered.
