At 5:42 a.m., Public Information texted him a link.
He rolled onto his side, grabbed his phone, and opened it. The headline had him sitting up.
Rangers Act on “Unusual Tip” in Warehouse Rescue.
Below it:
Sources close to the investigation suggest law enforcement may have received “nontraditional assistance” prior to the raid.
His jaw clenched atnontraditional. It wasn’t language law enforcement used. He scrolled on.
The informant may have been previously connected to a West Texas investigation involving unconventional methods.
Informantraised a red flag too. So didunconventional.
Coop swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet on the floor.
He hadn’t used any of those terms. His report stated a confidential source, which was very different in motivation. Confidential informants traded information for money or leniency. That wasn’t Erica.
His phone rang. Captain Reyes. At this hour, it couldn’t be good.
Coop straightened, already bracing as he answered, “Sir.”
“What the hell is nontraditional assistance?” Reyes demanded.
So, he’d seen it.
“I don’t know, sir. It wasn’t in my report.”
“Well, it’s in the damn article.”
“I’m aware.”
“Are we freelancing now? Running fringe sources I don’t know about?”
“It was a confidential source,” Coop said, striving to keep his tone even.
“Then why does this read like we consulted a fortune teller?”
“I can’t say, sir. When I spoke to the press, I gave them the usual. Nothing about an active investigation.”
A sharp exhale. “Someone must have, and these vague implications are enough to start rumors.”
Coop’s gaze dropped to the screen again. The wording was too careful to be accidental. This wasn’t a slip. It was bait. But who were they hoping would bite?
“Find out who it came from and shut them down,” Reyes ordered, then the line went dead.
Coop read the article again. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach.
Nothing definitive, but breadcrumbs. Anyone willing to dig a little would find where they led. Straight to Erica. And reporters were very good at digging.
***
At 6:30, he stood outside her door. Twelve hours ago, he’d told her she was safe. That no one knew. That her involvement would stay between him and O’Reilly.
Now, he wasn’t so sure.
He knocked.
