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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

C allan had been going a little crazy, watching Alyssa’s location skim across the ocean.

Since no planning could be done until they knew where she was headed, he’d forced himself to leave Grant and Gavin to track her.

Callan needed to walk away for a few minutes, to think. And pray.

He headed for the library. When he pushed on the door, Summer stopped it from swinging open. She saw who it was and then stepped aside.

Apparently, the tall, pregnant blond was playing the part of bodyguard today.

Alyssa’s mother and sisters stood when they saw him, their expressions begging for good news.

But fearing the worst.

“She’s still on the move,” he said. “No news.”

Evelyn stepped around her chair toward him. “We’re praying. I’m so sorry about Peri.” Tears hovered in her eyes. “I didn’t know what to do.”

She’d already apologized once.

“There was nothing you could do. I’m sorry I put you in danger. I didn’t anticipate…”

“They’ll find them, Mom.” Brooklynn gripped her hand, and the other sisters stood nearby as well. All as afraid, as terrified, as he was. “What can we do?”

“Just keep praying. There’s nothing more important than that. I was hoping…” He looked around, and his gaze snagged on his bag, lying on the floor a few feet away. He snatched it up. “Good. She left this for me.”

He hated to walk away from Alyssa’s family, standing there, looking terrified. But he had to get back. Robert had said he’d only bugged the room Gavin usually used as an office when he was at the club, so this one shouldn’t be wired. And Summer was keeping everyone out.

Even so, he moved close and lowered his voice. “Keep this to yourselves, in case there’s another spy among us.” Alyssa’s mom and sisters wore wide eyes and hopeful expressions. “Alyssa’s wearing a tracker. We know exactly where she is. When they stop, we’ll make a plan.”

Evelyn sagged with relief.

Delaney said, “Come on, Mom. Let’s sit down.”

But she gripped Callan’s hand and met his eyes. In hers, he saw his own terror and hope reflected.

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

He left them to keep up their prayers, knowing that what they were doing was as important, more important , than what he and the guys were doing.

Callan found the men’s locker room and changed his clothes.

He was shoving the pockets of his jeans inside when he felt something unexpected.

A thumb drive.

Alyssa had given the bartender/FBI agent the one containing the files she’d downloaded from her cloud server, which meant this was the zero-day exploit she’d been working on.

It should be a way for him to get access to SJSS’s systems. Alyssa had left it for him, which meant she’d have to recreate it for Ghazi.

She was buying time.

And, he realized, a way to communicate.

Heart thumping, he shoved his feet into his shoes and raced back to the small room that had become their staging area.

When he burst through the door, Gavin straightened from his perch against a windowsill. Beyond him, night had fallen. “What is it?”

Grant had a phone pressed to his ear. “Hold on.” He gave Callan his attention.

“I think she might be able to communicate with us.” Maybe. If she could do it. If nobody who understood code was watching.

A lot of ifs, but it was worth a try.

Grant stepped closer, lowering the phone. “How?”

“She left me the program with the steps to hack into SJSS’s computer system.”

“How does that help?” Gavin asked.

“She’ll have to recreate it. Which means she’ll be in the code.”

Neither man displayed the aha look he was expecting.

“If I’m in there, too, I can see what she’s typing. She can type anything, don’t you see? And I can watch.”

“She can leave you a message?” Grant asked. “Can you reply, tell her?—?”

“No, no. Too risky. And she can only do it if nobody’s watching or if she finds a way to leave it in code. Even so?—”

“Good thinking.” Gavin shifted a tablet so Callan could see the map displayed on the screen. “They stopped.” He tapped a tiny dot. “They’re on this island.”

Grant returned to his phone call. Before Callan had left, he’d said he was going to see if he could gather some men to help.

“Should we start heading that way?” Callan asked. “At least get to a port, or?—”

“There’s a dock on the property we can use once we have a plan,” Gavin said. “I’ve already got a boat en route. And the state police are on standby.”

“How far away is she?”

“As the crow flies, about four miles.”

“What do you know about the island?”

“Nothing. I’m guessing it’s a tourist spot. I sent someone to…”

The door opened, and a police officer stepped in. “Got in touch with the local PD. They told me the island’s abandoned during the off-season. Far as he knows, none of the buildings are winterized.”

Gavin nodded, gazing at the screen again as if looking away might put his daughter in danger. As if watching helped.

“How long has she been there?” Callan asked.

He didn’t look up. “Ten minutes.”

Callan set up his laptop on the dining table and plugged in the thumb drive. He let it do its thing, landing on a page of code, which he scanned quickly. This had nothing to do with drones. This page was related to a personnel database.

Hopefully, nobody Ghazi had watching would realize that.

Callan stared at the black screen, the multicolored text, willing something to happen. Some code to pop up. He was tempted to type something, just to nudge her, let her know he was there.

He sat on his hands, literally, to keep from doing something stupid.

They needed to make a plan.

But for now, they waited and gathered intel and…prayed.

While time moved like sludge through a funnel.