I'll handle it. Give me an hour.
I delete the conversation and rinse my mug.
***
The next three days are the worst so far.
Ragon calls the Fortress Security office line. Gets a receptionist and asks to speak with Alex. The receptionist, who has clearly been briefed, tells him Alex is on leave and she can't provide personal contact information.
Ragon calls back twice. Different approach each time. First he's a potential client requesting a consultation with the owner specifically. Then he's an old acquaintance trying to reconnect. The receptionist holds the line.
I know this because Jasper is getting updates from Chase, who is getting them from Finn, who monitors the company's communication logs. The information chain is absurd and fragile and it's the only thing standing between Ragon and a cabin forty minutes away.
Jasper intercepts the next attempt before it happens.
Ragon mentions over dinner that he's thinking about driving to the Fortress offices. Just showing up. Seeing if anyone there knows where Alex lives now.
"That's a bad idea," Jasper says. He's cutting his steak with the measured focus of a man choosing his words. "If the business has security cameras—and it's a security company, so it definitely does—you'll be on record showing up to harass an alpha's workplace. The registry will hear about it if you end up on trial."
Ragon's fork pauses. "I'm not harassing anyone."
"You're looking for an omega the registry thinks is still in your custody. If they find out she's been missing for weeks and you've been searching instead of reporting it, that's obstruction at minimum." Jasper sets his knife down. "You need to let this go through proper channels."
"Proper channels haven't returned my omega."
"Proper channels are the only thing keeping you from getting flagged yourself."
The silence that follows fills the kitchen.
I eat my steak and don't look up.
***
Ragon doesn't go to Fortress the next day, but I find him in his study at midnight with a laptop full of public records searches. Property tax filings, business incorporation documents, vehicle registrations.
He's good at this. He was always methodical. The same precision he brought to running a pack he now brings to hunting for the woman he lost. If I weren't actively working against him, he'd have found her by now.
That thought keeps me up at night.
"He's looking at vehicle registrations," I tell Jasper in the parking lot at work the next morning. We've started meetinghere instead of the house. Walls have ears when the man you're betraying doesn't sleep anymore. "If he finds Alex's truck and cross-references it with gas station cameras or toll records—"
"Chase already thought of that. Alex has been using Arden's car since week two."
"And Malcolm? Didn't you say Chase drove his car to the cabin too?"
"His vehicle is registered to the company, not him personally. Ragon would need a court order to access those records."
"What about Finn?"
Jasper pauses. "Finn doesn't drive."
"Right." I rub my face. "I'm going to start forgetting things I actually know if this keeps up."
"You're tired."
"I'm exhausted. I'm still covering some of Drake's shifts, I'm covering my own, and I'm spending every free hour making sure Ragon doesn't follow a paper trail to a cabin he doesn't know exists." I lean against my car. "And I'm doing all of it while sitting across from him at dinner pretending nothing has changed."
Jasper is quiet for a moment. Then he says, "I filed three incident reports this week."
