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Silent tears stream down my face.God, please don’t let him die. Please don’t let him die for me.
GIBSON
“There hasto be something we’re missing.” I lean forward and study the footage Tucker scrubbed again. It wasn’t altered, wasn’t changed, but we can’t see anything but a hooded figure.
Tucker shakes his head in frustration. “Whoever did thisknewwhere those cameras were and how to avoid them.”
“They also knew when the best time to take the equipment to make it look like it was being sent for repair,” Bradyn says.
“Do we have any way of checking cameras and making a note of anyone in or out of the hospital the days before and after that was taken?” I ask him. It’s something I could ask my own tech team, but Tucker is far better than they are.
And there aren’t many lines he won’t cross to find the truth.
“I’ll do it now,” he says. “It’ll take a couple of hours, but I can write a program that will link with facial ID and get us a detailed list even if they didn’t check in.”
“Perfect. Thanks.” I roll my shoulders. Therehasto be something that we’re missing. Some piece that we’ll uncover that will make all of the rest come together.
Flowers.“Last night, Lani said she remembers smelling flowers when her abductor came into the room,” I tell them.
“Flowers?” Dylan questions. “There were none at that cabin.”
“Which means it could have been something her abductor was wearing. Perfume, maybe?” I stare at the notepad in front of me.
“Perfume?” Tucker considers. “So you think the abductor was a woman?”
“Someone with medical knowledge,” I say. “And access to those computers. Could very well be a nurse. The coroner said Carla Yates didn’t have any defensive wounds on her.”
“Which means she knew her attacker,” Elliot says. “Which also fits it being a nurse.”
“But you interviewed all the nurses.” Bradyn crosses his arms.
“Then I missed something. Do you have anything on the cameras yet?” I ask Tucker.
“Definitely altered,” he says. “Looks like the cameras were on loop, so the pickup never showed up on the security tapes.”
“We need to get with hospital security then. See why they didn’t notice their tapes were altered.” My phone buzzes, so I withdraw it and check the screen.
Lani: I hope you’re doing okay.
I open my messages again and reply.
Me: I’m doing okay. How are you holding up?
An alarm screeches, and adrenaline surges through my system in response. Tucker clicks on the screen and jolts to his feet as live security footage plays before us. “Someone’s at the main house.” A brown sedan is parked out in front of the house, the trunk wide open.
I don’t even wait to see who’s in the car because it doesn’t matter. Lani is home—alone—since we just saw Ruth leave the property and Tommy is with Taylor Yates.
I rush for the door, all of the brothers on my heels. We’re at Tucker’s house, less than two miles from the main house.
Bradyn makes it to his truck first, so I jump in the bed while the other brothers—and their dogs—file into their vehicles, and we all take off toward the main house.
I thought she was safe.
She should have been safe!
By the time we reach the property, the car is gone. But Tommy Hunt’s truck is parked outside, the door open. He’s trying to climb up into the seat but falls backward, giving me a full view of his bloodstained shirt.
No.