Maybe Joel had come home from PT.
I pulled up the video feed of the camera in the kitchen cabinet knob that pointed at the front door, but the door was closed. The living room feed was empty.
Maybe it was a glitch?
I went back ninety seconds and watched the feed from before the notification had been sent to my phone.
Nothing.
Amelia was probably sitting at her desk in her room, lecturing on a video call with her students. No sight of Joel at all.
Five seconds before the notification alert that the front door had opened, Amelia bolted through the living room and ran out the door, purse and keys in hand.
I called her immediately, but it went to voicemail.
Shit.
Judah
What happened? Call me.
Still no answer. I texted Cole.
Judah
Eyes on Amelia? She ran out of her apartment.
I had set up a backdoor alert in the system to notify me of anything with Amelia or Joel’s names. A new timestamp had been added to Joel’s file.
0815:Asset transported to deposition by escorting agent.
But Joel went into physical therapy at eight. Cole had confirmed it. I glanced at Sanders’s office and watched as he read something on his phone, then grabbed his jacket and keys and walked briskly toward the elevator.
My phone buzzed.
Amelia
Joel was in a car accident. I’m on my way to the hospital. Meet me there?
Cole
Lost visual on both subjects.
After a long career in the military and in the FBI, I had learned to trust my gut above all else.
Above going by the book.
Above procedure.
Above the plan.
Above my superiors, who were supposed to be on the right side of the law.
But when it came to Amelia, I wasn’t just following my gut. I was following my heart.
My gut told me this was going to be the last time I saw the inside of the Javits Building.
My heart told me she wasn’t going to the hospital.
