“We’re still scanning the area near the rest stop,” Noah explained. “No sign of Megan or Riley yet. I’ve got a forensic team retracing Mick’s steps from where you picked him up.”
“You think he actually escaped?” Cal asked. “Or are we dealing with pure bullshit here when it comes to Mick’s story?”
“It’s possible,” Noah said. “If he was a hostage, he might have left a trail we can follow to find the others. And if he’s the one behind this, that trail might lead us straight to his setup. Either way, we’ll get answers.”
Jackson hoped Noah was right. But as the clouds rolled lower over the horizon, he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever trail Mick Barker had left was going to lead them somewhere darker than any of them expected.
Shit. He hoped Megan and Riley weren’t already dead.
The thought twisted at him. Sickened him. But it wasn’t a thought he could dismiss.
Jackson leaned against the van, arms crossed, watching the hospital doors. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, a thin mist that clung to his jacket and the brim of his ball cap. Inside, he could see the movement of uniforms through the glass. The sheriff and her deputies were escorting Mick down the corridor toward an exam room.
Avery stood beside him, silent, her gaze locked on the doors. Jackson could see the tension in her shoulders, the exhaustion that came from holding herself together for too long.
“Garrett and I can check the perimeter of the hospital,” Cal offered, and Noah nodded.
After they stepped away, minutes stretched. The drizzle thickened into steady rain again.
Then the hospital doors opened.
Sheriff Chase stepped out, her hat pulled low, her jaw tight. Jackson knew that look. He’d seen it too many times before. Bad news. The kind that always came fast and hit hard.
She started toward them, rain streaking down her coat. “My deputies just radioed in,” she said, her voice flat. “They found a body.”
Chapter Sixteen
Avery’s stomach dropped as Sheriff Chase stepped closer. Rain dripped from the brim of the sheriff’s hat, running down her jacket. Avery braced herself, certain the next words would confirm her worst fear.
That one of the hostages was dead.
“It’s Charlotte Barker,” the sheriff went on. “Her body was found in her car on the side of the road. Two gunshots to the head. Execution style.”
The words hit like a punch. Avery blinked, trying to make sense of them. Charlotte. Dead.
Noah groaned, low and guttural, then cursed under his breath. For a split second, Avery thought it was relief, that at least it wasn’t Megan or Riley. But the edge in his voice said otherwise.
“I need a word with all of you,” Noah insisted.
They went inside the hospital, the rain muffled as the door swung shut behind them. The hallway smelled of antiseptic and the rain. Isla, the sheriff, Avery, Jackson, and Noah stopped near the waiting area, their faces drawn tight with tension.
Noah turned to them, his expression grave. “Charlotte wasn’t just some grieving wife or Brotherhood loyalist,” he said. “She was my mole.”
Avery stared at him, stunned. “Your mole? You mean she was feeding you information?”
Noah nodded. “For years now. Every major move the Brotherhood made, she passed through one of my handlers. Shewanted Mick out. Wanted to stop what Haver was building from prison.”
Avery couldn’t wrap her mind around that. Charlotte Barker—informant, not just enemy. Everything she thought she knew about the woman shattered in an instant.
And now Charlotte was dead.
Avery could still hear the rain drumming faintly against the hospital windows as Noah spoke. His voice was low, steady, but she could tell it cost him something to say the words.
“After Haver went to prison, Charlotte came to me,” he said. “She knew what her husband was doing. Even from behind bars, Haver was grooming Mick to take over. She didn’t want that life for him. Too dangerous. She thought he’d end up in jail or dead.”
Avery tried to picture Charlotte that way, afraid for her son instead of controlling him. It didn’t fit with the woman she’d seen outside Warren’s house, calm and sharp-eyed even while Darian loomed behind her.
“Charlotte started feeding us and Sheriff Chase some intel,” Noah went on. “Nothing that would expose her, but enough to keep us a few steps ahead of the Brotherhood. She stopped robberies, assassinations, and an attack that would have killed half a dozen civilians. She played both sides and she played them well.”
