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Eagle Eye stood. “Come on.”

“Right now?” I asked, surprised he wanted to get right to it.

“No time like the present.”

Yeah. He was right. Why delay?

I joined him in his office and shut the door for privacy. Eagle Eye had multiple monitors and keyboards, tech shit I would never understand or learn how to use. “What do you need to know?” Dropping onto the seat of one of his chairs, I faced him.

He sat in his chair and scooted to the desk, clicking keys as we spoke. “Give me everything you remember.”

I rememberedeveryfuckingthing. Of course, I didn’t say that.

“Katrina Simmons. Last name is probably different now. Born April tenth, twenty-five years ago. She was a foster kid and entered the system at age five. Lost both parents when a drunk driver struck the vehicle on the highway. No living relatives.Might have been adopted around age thirteen to eighteen. Not sure.”

“That’s a good start. Physical description?”

I closed my eyes, picturing her image in the photo. “Brown hair and eyes. She kept it long. Glasses. Cute little nose and light freckles. Petite.”

“That should do it.”

I nodded, blinking as I opened my eyes. “How long will it take to find her?”

“Given the specific parameters I have from you, hopefully not long. You’re welcome to leave, and I’ll text you when I have something.”

I considered it but declined. “I’ll only get anxious if I walk out that door.”

“I get it. How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

“Twelve years.”

“Damn.” He cleared his throat. “You sure she wants to be found?”

I didn’t like the question, but he had a right to ask. After all, I was asking him to potentially do illegal shit and hack public records. “I believe she would want to see me.”

“Good enough for me, Cuckoo.”

The wait almost killed me. I tapped my thigh, anxious every second to learn what had become of Katrina.

Nearly an hour later, he turned to me with a grin. “I found her.”

“Where is she?” I asked, popping to my feet.

“I can’t answer that yet. I’ve found her foster and adoption files. Take a look at this and confirm for me.”

I peered over his shoulder, taking in Katrina’s image at some of the most critical moments in her life. “It’s her.”

Fuck. She looked so young and scared.

“Shit!”

“What is it?” I asked, growing anxious when I heard him curse. “She’s alive, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s about all I know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her records are sealed. I knew they would be, but it’s strange. There’s high-security clearance on them. They’re associated with an old cold case file.”