Noah shook his head. “Nothing. Which means Dexter has probably already ditched it somewhere. Isla Prescott is reviewing traffic cam footage as we speak.”
Cal nodded. If anyone could sift through thousands of feeds and find a needle in a haystack, it was Isla, Crossfire Ops’ top tech. Still, the idea of Dexter out there, free and moving, twisted his gut.
“Could he be getting help?” Cal asked.
Noah clicked the remote again. Another photo filled the screen. A man this time, broad-shouldered, hair gone silver at the temples, his expression stern and unyielding.
“This is Arneson Westbrook,” Noah explained. “Dexter’s older brother. He raised him after their parents were killed in a car accident. By all accounts, Arneson thinks Dexter can do no wrong.”
Cal studied the photo. The family resemblance was clear in the eyes, that same hard glint.
“Arneson owns a mid-sized construction company out of Cypress Falls,” Noah went on. “He’s done well enough for himself. Enough cash flow that he could easily fund Dexter’s escape or hide him if he wanted to.”
Cal’s jaw tightened. “So we start with him.”
The photo of Arneson stared back at them, cold and unwavering. If he was helping his brother, then the hunt had already become more complicated than a fugitive on the run.
Alena pushed back her chair and stood. Her spine was straight, her eyes locked on Arneson’s photo. “We need to talk to him. If Arneson is hiding Dexter, he could already be movingMelissa.” She glanced at Noah. “Who’s the lead investigating officer on this?”
“The county sheriff,” Noah said. He leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “Deacon Raines. You know him. We’ve worked with him before.”
Cal remembered Raines well. Solid lawman, sharp instincts, not afraid to step into the fire when things turned ugly. That was exactly the kind of ally they needed.
“You’ll liaise with him,” Noah added. “Keep him looped in and let him open doors where he can.”
Cal nodded. It made sense. Sheriff Raines knew the terrain, and he knew them. If they were going to track Dexter before more blood spilled, they needed every advantage they could get.
Alena’s gaze flicked to Cal, the briefest acknowledgment that she was ready to do this beside him, no matter how much it cost.
Noah wrapped up the briefing with a final nod. “Stay close to Raines, keep me updated, and find Dexter and Melissa.”
Cal rose, the weight of the mission heavy on his shoulders. He and Alena stepped into the hallway, the buzz of Crossfire Ops activity around them a familiar rhythm. Alena immediately pulled her phone from her pocket, her movements brisk, almost practiced.
She tapped the screen and angled the phone so Cal could see. A moment later, David’s face filled the display. His smile was wide, boyish in its openness, though his eyes carried that distant haze Cal had come to know too well.
“My favorite couple,” David said, his voice bright.
Cal’s chest tightened. David still believed the lie, and for his sake, they let him.
“Hi, David,” Alena greeted. “Are you all right today?”
“Yes,” he answered with simple certainty.
Relief loosened something in Cal’s chest. At least for now, David was safe and unaware of the storm circling around them.
“Can you do me a favor,” Alena asked, her voice warm but coaxing, “and stay inside today?”
David tilted his head. “But I like the trails.”
Cal knew that was true. Using the winding paths around the facility was one of the things that gave David peace, and the trails had been customized to work for his wheelchair.
“Bad weather’s coming,” Alena said.
David nodded, accepting the explanation without question. “Okay. I’ll stay in.”
Alena smiled at him, though Cal could see the strain behind it. He stayed silent, letting her hold the moment. The last thing David needed was the truth—that Dexter Westbrook was free and hunting.
Cal only knew one thing for certain. Protecting David wasn’t just a choice. It was a promise.
