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Hoping to get the image out of her head, Emma had made numerous sketches of the eagle. When Aubrey had asked, she had eagerly given them up, saying she wanted them away from her.
When Aubrey had returned home from the interview, she had been typing up her notes while watching the raw footage of her talk with Emma. The pain in the young woman’s voice when she’d described the image of that eagle was something that wouldn’t let go.
Curious, she had started some digging and had found something quite interesting. Several years ago, a well-known artist, Francis Steinman, had been interviewed by a style magazine. He had become famous for his carvings of various wild animals. Some of his works had been highlighted in the magazine. One he was especially proud of was a carving of a golden eagle catching its prey. The piece had been commissioned by the wealthy and influential Marc Antony Ferante, who liked the carving so much, he had one made for every one of his homes. It became his insignia, so to speak. He was so enamored of it, he had insisted on buying the rights to the work, and Steinman had agreed never to carve the same image for anyone else.
An image of that carved eagle was the exact one that Emma had sketched.
From there, Aubrey started a deep dive into Ferante. The man was hugely influential and featured in tons of articles, hours of interviews, and at least a dozen books. She had only gone through a tenth of what she needed to, but she’d already spotted several red flags.
Connecting the nightmares of a young, traumatized woman to the wealthy Ferante was more than a stretch. Something told Aubrey not to let it go. There was something there.
And now that her house had been broken into, she knew she was likely on the right track. Problem was, where would it lead her? And whom could she trust?
Having someone break into her home and leave no trace of their intrusion told her one thing—they hadn’t wanted her to know they were there. Had it been a fishing expedition? Maybe someone only suspected she knew something. Since nothing had been found, perhaps they would assume she had no information.
But she couldn’t assume they wouldn’t be back.
Her phone rang, and Aubrey jumped. Her nerves were ragged, and she was definitely freaked out.
Grabbing the phone from her purse, she checked the display, recognizing the number immediately. “Hello, Kate. I didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon.”
“I have good news for you. I spoke with the leader of the organization I told you about. He is willing to allow you to do a ride-along on their next rescue.”
“That’s wonderful. Thank you for that. Should I—”
“One of their operatives, either Serena or Jazz, will contact you. You’ll get more information from them on the where and the how.”
“Thank you, Kate. I sincerely appreciate your help.”
“You’re very welcome. I enjoyed our meeting and look forward to talking with you again soon. The funds are ready when you are.”
A wave of gratitude brought a lump to Aubrey’s throat. Focusing on so much of the horrors, she sometimes lost sight of the good in the world. There were kindhearted, giving people who wanted to end human trafficking as much as she did.
Should she tell Kate about this? Who she was investigating and why? Not all wealthy people knew each other, but Kate Walker was a savvy, intelligent businesswoman and a former FBI agent. She might have insight Aubrey hadn’t considered.
“Aubrey, everything okay?”
She shook herself. She was exhausted and running on fumes, barely had a grasp on reality right now. After a good night’s sleep, she’d be better able to decide whom she could trust.
“Everything’s fine. Just a little weary from traveling.”
“Completely understandable. Get some rest, and we’ll talk soon.”
“I will. And thank you again.”
“My pleasure.”
A wave of exhaustion hitting her, Aubrey went through her nightly ritual in record time. She double-checked the security system and all her locks. Then, placing her pistol on th
e nightstand, within easy reach, she slipped into bed. Even though fatigue weighed heavily on her, she stared into the darkness for a long while. Every noise she heard, her body went tense. Finally, just before dawn, she dropped into a restless, uneasy sleep.
The man watching the camera feed of Aubrey Starr’s bedroom gave a giant yawn. The girl was in over her head. That was clear. Yeah, she knew her home had been broken into, and he was impressed that she’d been able to determine that intruders had entered. His people were the best at what they did, leaving absolutely no trace of an intrusion. For her to suspect a break-in was impressive. She was no dummy, but she was naïve. She assumed nothing had been compromised since her safe hadn’t been found. She never considered that though nothing had been taken, something had been left. Cameras and mics covered her entire house, and they had already paid off. Tomorrow, whether she was there or not, he’d be checking out that little hidey-hole in her closet. He was willing to bet there were some interesting tidbits his employer would be very anxious to know more about.
Chapter Seventeen
Northeast Florida Regional Airport
St. Augustine, Florida