Page 74 of Vortex (FBI Thriller 25)

“Yeah, I knew that,” he said, grinned at her. “Looked you up on my way here.”

Juliet shook her head at him. “Do you have the warrant for Alex’s cell phone records yet?”

“The warrant will come in sometime soon. I know you’re scared, Juliet, I don’t blame you. What you did today—it was a huge step, you faced down Kent Harper. The FBI has impounded the Jag. Like Sherlock said, if there’s a single hair—” Tommy swallowed, then forced her name out as he went on. “If there’s a single strand of Serena’s hair, the CSI team will find it.” He sat perfectly still, frozen, the pain of her loss clear on his face.

Juliet lightly laid her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Tommy. I can only imagine what you went through seven years ago, what those memories and feelings coming back now must be like.”

Tommy felt his voice shaking and hated it. “At least now there’s a good chance Serena’s folks will get some justice. It’s not enough, nothing could be.” He paused, then said, his voice harsh, “Even if we get them both in prison for what they did, it won’t mean a bloody thing until we find her.”

Mia said quietly, “We will find her, Tommy. It will mean a lot to her folks and to us.”

The FBI agent was suddenly back, his voice strong and controlled. “Harrington and Harper will have a dozen lawyers speaking for them. Everyone in law enforcement has seen it often enough. Sometimes, whatever you have, it isn’t enough. But this time, it will be. This time I’m not about to stop.”

Mia said, “And your dad, Tommy, he’s not going to sit on the sidelines. He’ll be leading the charge with us.”

Juliet cocked her head.

Tommy said, “My dad’s a big kahuna in the FBI, assistant director.” He looked over at Juliet, really looked. “I’m very sorry about what those bastards put you through.”

“Thank you. Do you know, I’ve fantasized about visiting them in Sing Sing, and crowing. Taking a big photo of the two of them and posting it in Times Square, with a caption like, Aren’t You Glad He’s Not Your Mayor?”

Tommy raised his beer, clicked it to hers. “We’ll make it happen.”

Mia’s cell phone rang. She looked down, frowned. “Hello, Mia Briscoe here.” They both watched her face freeze.

Then Mia pushed the end call button and stared blankly at them. “That was Sherlock. Kent Harper’s been shot. She was there. She’s riding in the ambulance with him to Bellevue. She’ll give us all the details when we get there.”