“This could be a false alarm,” I whispered.
“Maybe,” she said.
“Pasco is ready up for you,” Lang told me.
“To set up my phone?” I asked
“Yes,” Kat answered. “Then we’ll have you contact everyone Scott might target. When they respond, Pasco will be able to pinpoint their location and assess their security level.”
Kyle walked me into the conference room and I sat down in front of a computer monitor. He squeezed my shoulders, then returned to the gym to help his teammates prepare for a possible worst-case scenario.
Pasco slid into the seat beside me. “Hey, Cami. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.” I smiled, trying to convince both of us it was true. “I’m sure this is a false alarm.”
“Maybe.”
Damn it, I was beginning to hate that word.
Pasco slid a piece of paper in front of me. Without a warrant, HEAT needed me to agree to allow them to track my phone. “It expires in twenty-four hours, so we’ll need you to sign another agreement if...”
“Of course.” I signed. “I’m sure everyone is fine, though.”
He attached a cord to my phone and sent some commands to it from his computer. When the connectionwas complete, per his instructions, I sent a group text to my Sunday crew, after which, we would work in concentric circles outward. The text was a ruse, requesting everyone arrive fifteen minutes early tomorrow for a staff meeting and asking for confirmation of receiving my text. No need to start a panic when everything could be fine.
Kat stood in the doorway between the conference room and the gym. “Everyone, listen up. I just spoke to X. She’s aware of the situation and is alerting additional nearby assets to be on stand-by. She’ll make a courtesy notification to the FBI that we might be moving on a target of the joint drug investigation, but we’ll be running point.”
As responses to my texts came in, Pasco worked backwards, tracing locations and checking traffic cams and other electronic data to confirm everyone’s locations.
Gina’s message was the longest and contained a vulgar reference to my night’s plans. Pasco raised his eyebrows at that one, but discreetly pretended not to notice the infamous DD phrase. After that, Doc checked in, then Mike, and finally Darla. One by one, Pasco called out each name and confirmed to the team that each person was safe.
I breathed easier, sure now that Scott’s threat was a hollow one.
My phone pinged with a second message from Mike. My blood ran cold. Pasco held his hand in the air, and the facility fell silent.
Have you heard from Ally today? Expected her at my place an hour ago.
I picked up my phone and navigated to Ally’s number. “I should have included her on the text, but she’s not working tomorrow. I could have sent her a separate one.”
Kyle and the others moved into the conference room behind me.
“It’s okay, Cami,” Pasco said. “You’re doing great. Keep the text natural. The kind of message you would normally send her.”
I nodded as I typed an update on the condition of a dog we’d sent to the emergency center a couple of days earlier. I hit send.
Pasco typed commands on his computer, frowned, typed some more, scowled. Long seconds felt like hours while we waited, until he sat back and stared at his screen.
“No signal,” he said. “Ally Taylor’s phone has been turned off.”
Once we knewwho was missing, the team could focus on the place from which Ally had disappeared. I knew the route she usually drove from her house to the clinic. Much of it included rural roads with long stretches with no traffic cams.
“There’s no car registration under her name,” Pasco said.
Kyle sat down beside me. “Whose car does she drive, Cam?”
I blanked for a minute and wracked my brain. “Um, most of the time, her mom’s SUV. Shirley Taylor, same address.”
Pasco nodded. “Shirley has onboard GPS and monitoring.”
