"I'm not picking up anything," Zara says dismissively.
That doesn't reassure me. My instincts have kept me alive longer than any surveillance feed ever has.
"Or maybe whoever is out there is just better."
Maybe the lack of sleep is finally catching up with me, but I can feel eyes on me.
I glance back at the scene. "I want names. Everyone who passed through here. Everyone who worked here. Families. Kids. Patterns."
"I'm pulling traffic cams," Zara says, fingers flying across her keyboard. "Security footage too. But it's going to take time."
Time. The one thing I don't have.
I glance back at the bodies one last time. The way they're fused together. Like holding each other was the only thing they had left.
What type of sadistic fuck would kill a mother and her child just to send a message?
I already know the answer.
"He chose a mother and child," I whisper. "That's him saying he knows exactly where my throat is."
"Keira and the boy," Nick murmurs.
I nod once. "They're my line in the sand. And somehow, he knows it."
Silence stretches.
"I need you to scout the perimeter by car," I tell Nick. "See if we're being followed."
"And you?"
"I'll take this on foot."
"Alone?" Zara's voice goes up an octave.
I give Nick a look, sighing. "I'm never alone."
"Be careful." He hesitates and then turns toward the gate.
"Come get me when you've done a proper search."
He lifts one hand in the air, acknowledging my words. As I watch him pull away, the feeling of eyes on my back grows heavier.
Calder knows someone is on his tail. He torched the grounds, staged a message, and left a man behind.
The news about Matteo traveled fast. I wonder if someone listened to our conversation in Italy.
He was prepared and acted quickly. Which means I have to stop being predictable. Stop being Tristan, the impatient man searching in the dark.
I need to become something he can't calculate.
If Calder wants to play the monster, then I have to become something even worse.
The wind shifts, carrying the faintest scrape of movement behind me.
There you are.
I don't turn yet, letting him think I haven't noticed. Letting him think he's got me.
