His counter-intelligence background had prepared him for exactly this kind of intelligence gathering. But that had been years ago, with the full weight of the Bureau behind him even when he was operating in the field without immediate backup.
He had Cara and her friends, but they had already risked far too much.
They'd want to help, but he was done dragging people into danger because he couldn't find his brother through proper channels.
He wanted David back. Desperately. But not at the cost of getting good people killed.
Which left him one option. One person he could call who might be willing to provide unofficial backup without requiring official authorization or putting more civilians at risk.
When he heard the shower start, he made the call he'd been considering since Wade's reality check last night.
Price answered on the second ring. "Sawyer. What's the news?"
"I've got a strong lead, finally."
"Nice. What can I do?"
"Hopefully, nothing. I'm conducting solo reconnaissance tonight at The Rusty Anchor. It’s a roadhouse in Granger Point, about twenty miles north of Haven Cove." Gabe pulled up the coordinates Tom had provided. "If I don't check in by midnight, come looking."
Silence on the line. Then: "I'll do you one better. I'll come along. Just me. Nothing official."
"Negative. I can't drag you any farther into this, James. Morrison wants me fired. I'm already in it deep. If this goes sideways, you don't want that stink on you. You don't deserve it."
A snort. "Like I care. Man's a pencil-pushing idiot."
Gabe grinned despite himself. "I care, bro. One of us needs to hold onto their pension. Whose couch am I gonna claim if this goes bad?"
"Fair enough. You always did excel in tactics."
Price exhaled slowly. Gabe heard the sound of a chair creaking, could picture his friend leaning back in his State Police office and weighing the request. They'd worked together on a joint task force three years ago, had trusted each other with their lives during an operation that had gone bad in ways neither of them discussed.
"I’ve got your six," Price said finally. " Anything feels wrong, you call and I roll in with backup."
"Appreciate it."
"Gabe." Price's tone shifted, became the voice of someone who'd lost people and knew what that cost. "Be smart out there. Your brother needs you alive more than he needs you heroic."
"Copy that."
The call ended. Gabe felt fractionally better knowing Price would do his best to look out for him, and his little Haven Cove team.
Cara emerged from her bedroom dressed in jeans and a faded Haven Cove Community College sweatshirt, her hair still damp from the shower. She poured two fresh cups of coffee without asking and handed him one with careful neutrality.
"Thanks."
She nodded and moved to the window, staring down at Main Street with her back to him. The silence felt heavier than it should between two people who'd just spent the night under the same roof.
They weren't a couple. Weren't even really friends given how much she was hiding from him. But something had shifted in the past few days. Something that made the quiet morning feel more intimate than the necessity that had put him on her couch.
"We should head down," she said finally, not turning around. "Tom will be here soon."
They descended the exterior stairs together without talking. The morning air was cold and sharp with salt. The bakery's back door still bore marks from the break-in, but Wade's new security system glowed green and solid.
She wasn't going to like being told to hang back. Not that he cared. Walking into a rough tavern to flash a federal badge and ask questions about a missing journalist was dangerous enough without worrying about protecting civilians.
The only one risking their neck tonight would be him.
Still, he wasn't looking forward to that conversation.
