“I get you. So, just a thought, maybe head to the hospital and see if she’s okay?”
Ryan nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Good plan.”
Sabrina caught his gaze from across the clearing, where she was talking to one of the local officers. Even from this distance, she twisted him up in knots that had nothing to do with the case and everything to do with how badly he wanted to wrap her up and keep her safe.
Not that she needed his protection. Sabrina West could handle herself in any situation, as she proved time and time again. But after what they’d just witnessed, after seeing exactly what kind of evil they were dealing with, who could blame him for wanting to have his eyes on her as much as humanely possible. Twenty-four seven, preferably. Just so he’d know she was safe.
Ryan cleared his throat.
“There’s something else.” His cousin shifted closer, pitching his voice low. “The way she was positioned in there. It wasn’t random. It’s standard protocol, we always clear the front rooms first. Whoever did this wanted her found.”
A chill crawled down Noah’s spine. “What do you mean?”
“She was placed in the front room, no furniture around her, few walls.” Ryan’s jaw tightened. “Deliberate. It’s the best way to ensure someone dies of smoke inhalation so the body doesn’t burn beyond recognition. They wanted us to find her. To see what they’d done. After the fact, once it was too late.”
“Or maybe they wanted her rescued.” The words felt hollow even as Noah said them.
“Fire was staged. Multiple points of origin but controlled.” His expression hardened as he laid out the concepts of how someone had orchestrated a woman’s murder. “They knew exactly what they were doing. How the fire would spread, how long before we’d respond, even how we’d approach the building.”
“That’s horrific,” Noah muttered, his brain committing the details to memory against his will.
“It’s a message.” His gaze locked onto Noah’s. “Watch your back, dude. If you’re digging into something connected to this, you might not like what you find.”
Noah’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he glanced at it. Jacob. Perfect timing.
“Will do,” he told Ryan. “But you do the same. And seriously—let me know the second she wakes up?”
Ryan nodded once sharply, rage still visible in the lines of his face as his gaze drifted back to the road where the ambulance had disappeared. “Find whoever did this, Noah.”
The raw edge in his cousin’s voice spoke volumes, and it said he wouldn’t let anyone near that poor unconscious woman again. Ryan was already invested in this woman’s story.
Just like he was invested in Sabrina’s.
Because he recognized that look in Ryan’s eyes. The one that said you’d found something worth fighting for, worth protecting at all costs. Worth changing your whole life for, if that’s what it took.
Noah’s phone buzzed again. He hit the button to answer. “Tell me you have something.”
“Maybe.” His brother’s voice carried that careful neutrality that meant he was choosing his words with precision. “Got the preliminary autopsy results on Annie Ross. The medical examiner found evidence she’d given birth recently. Within the last few months.”
That carefully folded pink blanket they’d found in the apartment. All those baby supplies hidden away in the closet. Not waiting for a baby to be born—waiting for one to come home.
“You’re sure?”
“Medical examiner confirmed it. Hormonal markers, physical evidence, the works.” Clicks fired off in the background. “No sign of the child though. We’re expanding the search parameters, checking missing-persons reports, looking for any recent infant abandonments or safe haven drop-offs.”
“But nothing yet.” It wasn’t really a question. If they’d found the baby, Jacob would have led with that.
“No. And it’s interesting what pops when you’re searching missing persons.” More clicks. “Camille Lancaster, Annie’s roommate? She was reported missing two weeks ago. Complete radio silence—no phone activity, no credit card usage, nothing.”
Noah’s mind spun through the implications. Another woman vanished without a trace. Just like Annie had. And then they’d found her body.
“And, Noah?” Jacob’s voice tightened. “The ME found trace evidence under Annie’s nails. Signs of a struggle. She didn’t go quietly.”
Oh, man. It hit Noah in the gut with a chaser that made his throat hurt. Had Annie Ross died trying to protect her baby? Was that what this was all about?
“Can you send me your findings? Is that allowed?” he asked, already mentally cataloging connections. “There has to be a connection to all three of these women.”
“Three?”
