Page 35

Tory

While we loaded the smoke-damaged boxes into the cruiser's trunk, Whitney described finding the skeleton bound to a desk chair, tape around the skull, and being left to rot for decades. Each time I put a box into the trunk and glanced at the skull, my stomach churned.

The level of hatred it would take to do that to someone must have been huge. My guess was that the woman named B had left him to die like that.

The official story about the orphanage's closure was because the kids were tattooed with serial numbers like cattle. That was sick enough on its own. Four staff members went to prison for that. But those unmarked graves Jaxson and the others found told a darker story.

I'd seen enough in my years working for Border Force and flying rescue missions for trafficking victims to know that evil could run very deep.

The way B had staged that skeleton, leaving him there all these years like some twisted trophy, painted a picture of vengeance, not justice.

Those staff members who'd gone to prison and even died in prison had gotten off easy compared to the ones B had dealt with personally.

A chill ran through me. Whatever horrors that child had endured in this place, she'd grown up to become something even more terrifying.

I hoped like hell we never came face to face with her .

I stepped back as Jaxson loaded the last box into the trunk.

My gaze was drawn to Cooper's bloody body on the ground.

Even with all the evidence staring us in the face, I still struggled to accept that two cops had turned to corruption.

Why would they do that? But another horrifying question clawed at my thoughts: how many more crooked cops were there?

"What do we do with him?" I asked, though I was pretty sure I knew the answer.

"Leave him," Jaxson said flatly.

"What? We can't just—" Whitney's eyes bulged.

"That bastard deserves what he gets." Jaxson jabbed a finger at his brother. "We're not hauling a dirty cop's body around with us."

"But the evidence?—"

"Whitney," Jaxson said, his voice steel. "We need to move before we become evidence ourselves."

"Oh!" Whitney snapped his fingers. "Speaking of evidence . . ."

Jaxson groaned. "What now?"

"When he first showed up, I quickly packed up my evidence kit from the grave site and took it with me when I hid inside." His eyes bulged wider. "Then when she took off, I tossed my kit out the window before I started grabbing those boxes from the fire."

"Well, go get your kit." Jaxson rolled his eyes. "And quickly. We have to go."

"All right, you bossy bastard." Whitney ambled away like we were at a Sunday picnic.

"For Christ's sake, run!" Jaxson turned to me, exasperated. "Man's got no concept of urgency."

"Probably comes with the job," I said. "Can't rush processing a crime scene."

"Nah, he’s always driving Parker and me crazy because he’s taking his sweet time." Jaxson's face fell. "Shit. Parker will be going mental not hearing from us."

I moaned. "Same with my parents. And Whisper. She would've been searching all night." The thought of my friend combing the coastline for my plane wreck, or my body, made me feel sick. "I need to call her."

"Tory, we talked about this. We can't risk calling anyone." Jaxson's hand caught my arm, warm and steady. Any other time that touch might have sent sparks through me, but right now it just made me bristle.

"Not even Whisper? Come on." I pulled my arm free.

Onyx pressed against my leg as if reminding me of whose side she was on. I scratched behind her ears, trying to find logic in his request.

"You’re being paranoid."

Onyx whined, pressing closer with her tail low.

"Paranoid?" His laugh was hollow. "We've got two corrupt cops that prove paranoia's the only thing that will keep us alive right now."

The finality in his tone made my head hurt.

He didn't understand. Whisper wasn't just my colleague; she was the person who'd pulled me through the darkness after my sister blocked me from seeing my parents last Christmas.

She'd shown up at my door with Thai food and terrible romantic comedies to make sure I wasn’t alone.

"I'm talking about Whisper and my Border Force team. I trust them with my life."

Something haunting crept into Jaxson's eyes. "I would've said the same about Eddie twelve hours ago."

Pain simmered in his eyes, making me curb any further objections.

Whitney jogged up, wheezing as if he'd run a marathon instead of fifty meters. His evidence kit was clutched to his chest like a security blanket. "Got it, but unfortunately, when everything fell out, my phone was smashed."

"Fucking hell." Jaxson threw his hands up, frustration rolling off him in waves. "Let's go."

He opened the back door to the cruiser. “Onyx, in.”

The dog jumped in, and he shut the door, then he climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.

Whitney and I shared a glance at each other before he put his kit into the trunk and shut the lid.

“You can have the front,” I said. “I’d rather be in the back.”

He opened the back passenger door for me. “I don’t blame you. I don’t want to sit next to cranky ass either.”

“I heard that,” Jaxson called.

As I smothered a chuckle, I climbed into the back seat, and as I pulled on my seatbelt, Onyx settled her head in my lap. My fingers tangled in her fur as my mind raced.

What if Jaxson was right? What if B had infiltrated more than just the police? The thought of not trusting Whisper felt like betraying family, but Eddie's betrayal had proved that friendship ties weren’t safe from someone like B.

In my line of work, I'd seen how corruption spread like cancer. Trust was a luxury we couldn't afford to test right now, not when we’d nearly died a few times because of it.

God, I hated how trust could be so easily shattered.

I tallied our resources: three exhausted people running on adrenaline and fear, one German Shepherd, zero working phones, a creepy skull in the trunk, and our only lifeline was a police radio in a dead cop's car. The irony made me want to laugh, and it would be funny if it weren’t true.

After finding two corrupt officers in one day, calling for help felt about as smart as flying through a cyclone with failed instruments.

And somewhere out there, B was waiting to shoot us out of the sky.

Onyx shifted in my lap, her warm weight anchoring me as Jaxson put his foot down. The headlights carved through the night, revealing glimpses of dense bush on either side of the narrow road.

"We can't just drive around aimlessly," Whitney snapped. "We need a plan."

“Agreed,” Jaxson said. “First question. Do you two need medical treatment?”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “You did a great job bandaging me up. Besides, I'm not sitting this out. Not after what she did to us. I want to help catch her."

"You sure you're okay?" My heart did a little flip at the concern in his expression.

"Absolutely. And I'll be even better once we stop her."

“Same here,” Whitney said. “After that bitch nearly burned me to a crisp, I’m sticking with you two.”

"All right." Jaxson pressed his foot on the accelerator. "Our first priority is to ditch this cop car and hide that evidence somewhere safe. "

"Ditch the cop car?” Whitney glared at his brother. “We’re not in some crime show, Jaxson."

"No shit. But when Eddie doesn't return home or show for his shift, an APB will be slapped on this cruiser ASAP.”

Onyx's ears pricked forward at their rising voices, and I ran my fingers through her fur, trying to settle us both.

"Okay, genius,” Whitney said, “how do you propose we get another car? I'm not stealing one."

"We need Parker." Jaxson clenched his jaw.

Whitney reached for the radio mic, and Jaxson's hand shot out to stop him. "Don't."

"We can use the comms to reach Parker."

"No. I think B gets her intel from police comms."

"Oh my god. You're losing it, brother."

"No, I'm not." Jaxson barked. "You weren't there when Eddie shoved a gun in my face."

"For God's sake, would you both shut up!" The words exploded from me before I could stop them. Onyx lifted her head with a worried whine, her eyes searching my face. "You're worse than my sister on a rampage."

Blessed silence filled the car.

In the rearview mirror, Jaxson's eyes met mine, concern softening his features and something in that look made my heart skip. "You okay?" he asked.

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my chest. "Well, other than being hungry, exhausted, and nearly every inch of my body aching, I'm super."

He offered a tiny smile, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "That’s a good outcome considering you nearly died four times in the last twenty-four hours."

I nodded. Was it only twenty-four hours?

Whitney fiddled with the radio, scanning through static until he found ABC news. The announcer's voice filled the tense silence.

"—massive explosion at Rosebud Wharf has destroyed an entire warehouse?—"

"Shit! Turn it up," Jaxson said, taking his foot off the gas a fraction.

"—three people were injured in the explosion, with two still missing. One confirmed fatality, Grant Hughes, who was in hospital following amputation surgery after his arrest last month?—"

"Grant Hughes is dead?" I gasped. "Jesus!"

"—Hughes was kidnapped from Rosebud Hospital early yesterday morning. His doctor, Yusuf Lurami, was murdered during the kidnapping. Initial reports suggest Dr. Lurami may have been assisting the kidnapper at the time of his shooting?—"

"Oh shit!" Whitney's face drained of color. "That's Yusuf – I know him. Worked with him on three cases last year."

"Do you think B did this?" I asked, my heart booming in my chest.

"Without a doubt," Jaxson said grimly. "And I’d bet the warehouse explosion was her handiwork, too."

The radio announcer continued, "Among the injured was Aria Morgan, from?—"

My heart stopped. "Oh my god." My hand flew to my mouth, smothering a cry threatening to escape. Onyx pressed against my leg, whining low.

"Two other members of the Alpha Tactical Ops team are hospitalized and are in a stable condition.” The announcer was way too chirpy for my liking. “However, two more are believed to have been inside the warehouse when it exploded and collapsed, and they are yet to be found."

“No!” Tears blurred my vision, spilling hot and fast down my cheeks. "This can't be happening."

Jaxson pulled the car to the curb. Before I could process what he was doing, he was out of the driver’s seat and opening my side door. His strong arms wrapped around me, and he pulled me into his chest.

"They’ll be okay," he murmured, his voice firm and steady. "I’m sure of it. Those men and women are the toughest people we know."

I buried my face in his shoulder as the weight of the world pressed down on me. But the gnawing fear in my chest refused to let up, whispering relentlessly: What if they weren’t tough enough this time?

I shook my head, forcing the thought away. My chin quivered as I pulled back to meet his eyes, desperate for some kind of reassurance. "She said two are still missing under the collapsed warehouse. You need to find them. You and Onyx. That’s what you do, isn’t it? You find people?"

He gripped my shoulders, firm and steady, but his eyes betrayed the storm raging inside him.

"Get in the car," he said, and before I replied, he sprinted around to the driver’s seat.

I slid into the back seat and shut the door, and as I fumbled with my belt, adrenaline surged through me, getting ready for the wild ride I knew was coming.

Jaxson yanked his seatbelt on and slammed his foot on the accelerator. The cruiser roared to life, lurching forward as Whitney reached up to brace himself against the roof.

"What are we doing, brother?" Whitney blurted.

"We need a phone to call Parker." Jaxson’s tone was clipped, his focus laser-sharp. "Then we’re heading to that warehouse. Me and Onyx are going to find them. Those guys might not have much time."

“Is there any more info on the radio?” I asked, and as Jaxson took a turn much faster than I would have liked, I gripped the edge of my seat, digging my nails into the leather.

Whitney held the handle over the door as he turned the radio from one channel to the next, finding nothing but music. Finally, he turned the radio down. “I’ll check again in a minute.”

The air in the car seemed to bristle with tension like an electric storm as questions spilled out from all of us, frantic and overlapping . . .

"Who was hurt?"

"Who’s missing?"

"Was one of them Maya? Or Viper?"

"I understand why B wanted to kill Grant Hughes, but why would she want to kill the Alpha Tactical Ops team?" I asked, my voice trembling with equal parts fear and anger.

Jaxson didn’t answer. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel as he pushed the car harder.