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He shrugged. “Good point.”

“Once he fulfills my orders and shows us even a microsecond of footage, his mind will pick up where it left off.”

They entered a small room filled with wires and monitors. One security guard sat at a desk, scrolling through footage. “I’ve been looking,” he said, “but so far, no kid in a wheelchair.”

“They took her down almost an hour ago.”

“Gotcha.” He rewound the footage even more, and they watched together until they found a man pushing a wheelchair with a child in it toward a side exit.

“There!” Izzy shouted, pointing at one of the screens. “That’s her.”

The security guard paused the footage as Michael leaned in. “Is that your ex?”

She leaned in, too. Ran her fingers over the frozen screen, trying to touch her daughter’s face. To soothe her. She finally paid attention to the man. Even with the grainy image, she knew it wasn’t him. She shook her head. “It’s not him. But Ross has to be behind it, right?” She looked at Michael. “He could have sent anyone. He has an army.”

“Yeah? Well, my army is bigger.”

“Mine is pretty big, too.”

They turned to see a woman walk in, her short, dark bob framing a pretty face. She wore a navy business suit as crisp as the winter air and sunglasses.

She took them off and turned to the officer. “I’m Special Agent Carson. My partner is checking out the scene.”

They shook hands. “Officer Olivera. We were just going through the surveillance footage.”

She nodded and turned to Michael. “Cavalcante,” she said, her tone curious. Like they knew each other only by reputation. Recognition didn’t flash across either of their faces.

“Carson. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.” She turned to Izzy. “You’re the mother?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll need a full description, naturally, and pictures if you have any on you.”

“I do. My phone is in the room, though.”

Carson leaned closer to the screen. “Is this him?”

“Yes,” Michael said. “He took her out the east exit.”

The agent turned back to Izzy. “Do you recognize him?”

She shook her head. “This man looks much older.”

“Older than who?”

“She’s been in a…domestic situation,” Michael said. “But that’s not her ex.” He pointed at the monitor.

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t set the whole thing up,” Carson said.

Izzy agreed. “It has to be him. I just don’t know how he found me.”

“I’ll need a name and the last known address.” She turned to the security guard. “Is there any footage of him assaulting the nurse?”

“No, ma’am. There are no cameras in that hall. But we have this of the parking lot.”

They watched as the man wheeled Emma out to an old, beat-up Jeep.