Page 103 of Wild Oblivion

We all exhaled a relieved breath.

Emily climbed the ladder and scanned it with a thermal imager. There were no signs of activity inside the device. “No thermal fluctuations. “I think it’s safe.”

“I’ll get the bomb techs in here to remove the device,” the sheriff said.

I told him to put a BOLO out on Ashton and Newport. Ashton would be easy to pick up. Newport was probably long gone. “Send deputies over to DRI as well. I think you might find some security guards locked up in a storage closet, if they’re still alive.”

We left the locker room and stepped out of the stadium into a sea of chaos. I found Thompson and caught him up on the situation. The Coast Guard would be notified, and an international warrant issued. Newport technically wasn't my problem anymore. This was a federal investigation after all. But Newport had made it personal. I was going to finish it. One way or the other.

I rounded up a small tactical team consisting of Erickson, Faulkner, Robinson, and Mendoza. Emily told us where we could find Ashton. She drove us to the station, and I filled out an application for a warrant. Half an hour later, I hadone in hand. The delay was infuriating, but it was part of the process.

Emily drove us to Ashton's Stingray Bay mansion. The guy had done well for himself, or was a trust fund baby. Emily certainly had an ax to grind with him, and I couldn't blame her.

The deputies followed.

We advanced to the front door, while Mendoza and Robinson covered the back door. I banged a heavy fist and shouted, "Coconut County. Open up!"

I nodded to Faulkner, and he heaved a battering ram against the door. The jam splintered, and the door flung wide. Glass shattered, raining diamonds.

We flooded into the vaulted foyer with shock and awe, weapons in the firing position. The team crunched across broken glass on the imported marble tile, cleared the parlor and the front office, then advanced into the living room.

"Coconut County! We have a warrant," I shouted again.

My barrel swept across the open concept space, clearing the corners.

Large window walls offered a view of the pool and canal beyond. A hallway led to a guest bathroom and bedroom. Erickson and Faulkner cleared it, then we took the stairs.

With eager barrels leading the way, we cleared a few more guest bedrooms and bathrooms, making our way to the master. We held up at the closed door, Jack taking one side and I on the other.

I shouted again, “Coconut County!”

There was no response.

Faulkner kicked open the bedroom door, and I swung my pistol inside, sweeping it across the room.

The place was empty.

French doors opened to a large terrace that overlooked the pool.

We flooded into the bedroom, cleared the closet, the bathroom, and checked under the bed.

There was no sign of Ashton. If he’d been here, he was gone now.

I wasn’t as concerned with him, but I figured he might know where Newport was headed.

My next call was to Isabella.

56

After looking into his cell history, Isabella told me Ashton had made numerous calls and texts to his brunette girlfriend, Claudia Valletta. He’d also made several calls and texts to a burner phone over the last few weeks. The most recent one was earlier today.

There was no doubt in my mind that the burner phone belonged to Newport.

Isabella was never able to pin the burner phone to any location other than a public space—like a coffee shop, restaurant, or bar. It hadn't popped up on the grid in an apartment, house, or hotel. If it belonged to Newport, he was using good tradecraft. He knew never to turn on the device in a location that could be tracked back to him.

Isabella gave me the location of Claudia's apartment. She lived in the Delphine, which was an upscale midrise, popular with young professionals. "It looks like she's a moderately successful E-girl," Isabella said. “Has no real jobto speak of, but she's got enough subscribers to herFor the Fanssite to make a good living."

It didn't surprise me.