Page 22 of Tango (Hunt Brothers Search & Rescue #4)

Tucker

I ’ve been staring at this video so long my brain hurts. After drinking some herbal tea and going for a quick workout, I’m back at it, determined to discover how they managed to make it look as though Alice killed Ramiro when I know she didn’t.

She’s been gone most of the day, wanting to spend some time with her parents after the discovery that Logan was killed. Then Dylan texted me about two hours ago, letting me know she’d asked to go to the church. Since he was there, he took her.

Which I’m grateful for because I can’t bring myself to tear my gaze from this video. I have to find something. Anything that will give her hope. So far, no matter how many times I replay it, I can’t see past what they want us to see.

Which is Alice, raising a weapon and murdering Ramiro Caine.

Tango raises his head, ears perked, as the front door opens. “ Hier,” I say, then head out into the hall. Alice stands at the end of it, her Bible in hand. As Tango rushes over to greet her, she bends down and pets him while he sits at her feet and stares up at her as though she hung the moon.

My boy adores her.

Just like I do.

This has to stop.

“How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, a bit better.” She takes a deep breath. “I told Dylan about the video.”

Frustration shoves the attraction burning within me to the side. “That wasn’t your place.”

“Actually, it was.” She sets her Bible down on the table and crosses her arms. “I won’t have you lying to your family on my behalf. We either do it honestly, or we don’t do it at all.”

“It wasn’t a lie. I just didn’t tell him.”

“Omission is still a lie when information like this is withheld.”

She’s right. And the fact that she told Dylan only makes my feelings grow. “Well, he’s going to be a delight to deal with next time I see him.”

Alice smiles—it’s small, but there. “Actually, he was really kind. I think he appreciated the honesty.”

“Dylan’s like that.”

“What have you been doing? Any more news on Logan?”

“Nope. I’ve been staring at the surveillance video, looking for a break, but so far, I’ve got nothing.” Turning on my heel, I head back into my office. Alice follows with Tango trotting right alongside her.

The video is paused on my projector screen, zoomed in on the grainy woman holding the gun. I can’t make out features, just her dark hair and general stature.

“We’ve stared at that video, run every program—we need to start figuring out what Web Safe wants.”

“I know. But I can’t help but believe this is a part of it.

It’s all connected. I mean, how did Ramiro figure it out in the first place when everyone else at Web Safe seems to be completely in the dark?

Why did he go to you? He could have gone to the authorities, could have gone to the CEO of Web Safe.

Yet he went to you to fix it before reporting it. ”

“He was afraid. He had no idea how many people were involved.”

I turn toward her. “But why did he suspect anyone else was involved? You don’t go from finding something like that to automatically assuming the worst.”

Her expression shifts slightly, brows furrowing. Is she catching what I’m trying not to say? “I don’t know.”

“Which is why we need to crack this video. If we can break this, then we can hopefully trace it. Follow the lead all the way back to Web Safe.” I hit play again, and the video continues from the moment both Alice and Ramiro come into view.

She raises her gun and fires. “I just don’t see how they—” I trail off, my gaze landing on Ramiro.

Pausing it, I move closer, then lean in and study the grainy form lying on the ground.

“Hang on.” Retrieving the phone from my pocket, I tap on Dylan’s contact information.

He answers on the first ring. “Yeah?”

“Come back, I need your opinion on something.”

“On my way.” The call ends, so I tap Loyotta’s contact.

“Loyotta,” he answers, tone gruff.

“What tattoos did Ramiro have?”

Alice’s eyes widen, and she turns back to the screen, moving in so close that part of the image is shining on the back of her head.

“He didn’t have any,” he replies. “Why?”

“I don’t think the video they sent you is of Ramiro.”

“How is that possible? It looks just like him.”

“It’s grainy,” I reply. “They knew what we thought we were going to see and used that to make us see what they wanted.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll get back to you once I do.”

“Let me know what I can do to help.”

“Take another look at that video and focus on him. I know it’ll hurt, but?—”

“I’ll do it.” He ends the call, so I shove the phone back into my pocket.

“Ramiro didn’t have any tattoos,” Alice says. “He always wanted one—we’d even talked about getting one together but never did.”

“Tucker?” Dylan calls out as he opens the front door. Tango jumps up off his bed to greet him and Delta.

“In my office,” I call back.

Seconds later, Dylan walks into the room.

“What do you see here?” I ask him. I don’t want to give him any more details than that because I want his impression without my influence.

My twin leans in toward the screen to get a closer look, careful to stay out of the way of the image. “A tattoo,” he replies. “Partially hidden by the collar of the shirt. How did we miss that?”

“Because we weren’t looking for it. We’d already assumed it was him in this video.

But Ramiro had no tattoos,” I tell him. “If we had a body, we could confirm it with the coroner.” As of now, Ramiro’s body has yet to be recovered.

Another anomaly. Why leave Logan’s body in his apartment but keep Ramiro’s hidden?

“Does that mean someone else died too?” Alice asks.

“Not necessarily,” Dylan replies.

The wheels in my mind are turning a million miles a minute.

“That’s why we couldn’t prove it’s a fake.

It’s not.” I stare at the screen. Even as I narrow in on the grainy face of the woman on the screen—she looks strikingly like Alice.

But if that’s not Ramiro on the floor, then we know that’s not Alice.

“Someone staged this.” Dylan crosses his arms. “Because they knew you’d debunk a fake.”

“But that person really looks like me,” Alice says. “Even looking at her now—it’s blurry, but the size, build, hair length—it’s all the same. Aside from the braid and her choice of wardrobe, that could be me.”

“They went through a lot of trouble to frame you for this murder.” I turn to Alice. “I need to know who could have played those parts. Anyone else at Web Safe who looked similar enough to you to pull it off? Anyone at work who wouldn’t have an issue doing something that would get you locked up?”

“You think it’s someone who works for them?” Dylan asks.

“Yeah. They wouldn’t have trusted anyone else enough to bring them in. They would’ve wanted these two to remain close.”

Alice considers, chewing on her bottom lip as she does. I have to look away as desire hits me out of nowhere. Get it together, Tucker Hunt. You’re not a lovestruck teenager. You’re a grown man trying to keep her out of prison for murder and treason.

“I don’t—wait.” She tilts her head to the side, even as her gaze is distant. “Maybe one. But her hair is blonde, not black.”

“It could be a wig,” Dylan replies.

“Oh, good point! Kara Beverly. She’s had it out for me since I took the promotion she was hoping for. But we’re the same size. Even shared a few outfits before she decided she hated me.”

I shift my attention back to the screen, feeling a bit more hope than I have since receiving this video. Our first actual lead. Now all we can do is pray it’ll lead somewhere. “I guess it’s time to see what we can get out of good old Kara Beverly then.”