Avery sank into the chair and pulled up the files from her secure drive. The familiar folder names stared back at her, but today they felt heavier, tainted by everything that had happened.
Jackson stood beside her, watching the screens. “Remember, Mick could be lying. He might’ve killed her himself.”
Avery nodded. “I know. We can’t rule that out.” She clicked open one of the old transcripts, the interview she’d done with Melissa’s best friend. “And we can’t rule out Warren either,” she added quietly. “We still don’t know if he’s working with the Brotherhood or not.”
Jackson folded his arms, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the screen. “Then we find out.”
Avery looked at him, at the determined set of his jaw. Whatever happened next, she knew he wouldn’t stop until they had answers.
Neither of them would.
They worked quietly for a while, the only sounds the hum of the computer and the soft creak of the cabin settling. Avery scrolled through files, her eyes moving over notes she’d read a hundred times, hoping she’d missed something before. Jackson sat beside her, jotting down names and details that might help them build a case.
The phone on the desk buzzed, breaking the silence. Jackson checked the screen. “It’s Noah.” He put it on speaker. “Talk to me.”
“We’ve got a problem.” Noah’s voice came through tight and clipped. “One of our techs and a tech intern were taken about a half hour ago.”
Avery’s pulse jumped. “Taken? Who?”
“Riley Burke is the intern, and Megan O’Hara is the tech. They were off-site, working a satellite link. They never made it back to headquarters.”
Jackson’s jaw tightened. “You sure it’s a kidnapping?”
“Positive,” Noah said. “We got a message from the abductors about ten minutes ago. I’m sending the photos now.”
Jackson’s phone buzzed, and the pictures came through. Avery leaned closer. The images showed the two women, both in their late twenties, seated on the floor of a dark room. Their wrists were bound, but they were alive.
Avery felt her stomach twist. “God.”
“We’re still working on the trace, but it’s got the Brotherhood written all over it,” Noah added.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the demand?”
Noah hesitated again, and Avery could almost hear the weight of his next words. “We don’t have all the details yet,” he said quietly, “and no way in hell are we going to give them what they want.”
“What’s the demand?” Jackson repeated.
Noah cursed. “The kidnappers are saying they’ll release the hostages in exchange for Avery.”
Chapter Eleven
For a long moment, Jackson couldn’t find his voice. The words hung in the air like a live wire.
An exchange. Avery for the hostages.
He looked at her. She’d gone pale, her hands clenched together in her lap, eyes locked on the photos still glowing on his phone. He could see the fear there, but also guilt, the kind that twisted deep and sharp.
Jackson felt anger rise, hot and steady, burning through the shock. “They’re not getting her,” he said, his voice low and hard. “That’s not even on the table.”
“Jackson…” Avery started, her voice shaky.
He cut her a look that stopped her cold. “Don’t,” he said. “This isn’t on you.”
He turned back to the phone. “Noah, you have any idea where they’re being held?”
“Not yet,” Noah said, his tone clipped and tight. “I’ve got every available tech and operative working on it.”
Jackson stared at the images again. Riley Burke and Megan O’Hara. Both were blindfolded now, their heads tilted toward the floor. They were no doubt terrified. Vulnerable.
