Page 7 of Tag (The Golden Team #9)

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A poni had fallen asleep sitting up, arms crossed on her knees, chin resting on her forearm.

She looked like she hadn’t slept in a week.

I draped the hoodie I found hanging on the stair rail over her shoulders, careful not to wake her. But the moment I turned back to the files, her voice broke the silence.

“You’re still here.”

“I live here now, remember?” I said quietly.

She didn’t open her eyes. “She’s really gone?”

“Camille?” I smirked. “Long gone. Probably somewhere dry-cleaning her thong.”

That made her snort.

I sat across from her on the floor. “You need rest.”

“So do you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one solving a human trafficking case in my sleep.”

Her eyes opened, sharp and alert now. “I think I found something. Look.” She handed me a set of pages clipped together—case notes, maps, and three photos of the missing girls.

“They’re all from different neighborhoods,” she said, “but all three were last seen near an abandoned building registered under the same LLC.”

I leaned in. “Shell company?”

“Most likely.”

She pulled up a satellite image on her laptop. The property was fenced in and surrounded by decaying warehouses. No security. No cameras. The kind of place no one looked at twice.

“Someone’s using it,” she said. “And I’m betting it’s not for scrap metal.”

My jaw clenched. “We should check it out.”

“I already asked the department to file for a warrant.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You think they’ll move fast?”

“They won’t,” she admitted. “Which is why I was thinking…”

“No,” I said. “Don’t say it.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “I’m going. With or without you.”

I let out a slow breath, dragging a hand over my face. “You really don’t like backup, do you? We both need some sleep.”

“I like control. I’ll sleep when I get back.”

“Tough luck. If you’re going, I’m going.”

She nodded once, brisk. “Then we leave in twenty.”