Hunter’s attention sharpened further. This was what he’d been waiting for.
“After receiving your report about the Crystal Lake sighting one week ago, we deployed a full search operation.” Sullivan pulled up a topographical map with an overlaid grid pattern in different colors.
Hunter tensed, waiting.
“And?” The word came out harder than he’d intended.
Kellerman met his eyes directly. “Nothing. He vanished completely.”
“How is that possible?” Siren asked.
Sullivan pulled up the photos Hunter had taken on his phone at Crystal Lake. They showed Brennan convulsing through an uncontrolled shift. Seeing them again on the large screen made them even more disturbing.
“In his condition, survival beyond twenty-four to forty-eight hours is nearly impossible even with immediate medical intervention. Add December cold, no shelter, no medical care, and extreme physical location. Our assessment is that Dr. Brennan died somewhere in that wilderness and we were unable to locate the body.”
The words settled over the conference room. Hunter wanted to feel relief but couldn’t quite get there yet.
“You’re certain?” he asked.
Kellerman’s expression didn’t change. “As certain as we can be without a body. The medical evidence is conclusive. Those shifts were destroying him at a cellular level. He had hours, maybe days at most. It’s been a week.” He paused. “He’s gone.”
The logic was sound. They’d all seen Brennan’s condition. No one could survive that.
“Which brings us to the cartel,” Kellerman said, and Sullivan pulled up new data on the screen.
Surveillance logs, financial transaction records, communication intercepts. All of them showing the same thing: nothing.
“Complete radio silence for two weeks,” Sullivan said, highlighting the timeline. “Known associates show no movement in the region. Supply chains are either shut down entirely or redirected to other territories.”
Axel leaned forward, studying the data. “Could they be hiding?”
Sullivan shook her head. “We have sophisticated monitoring in place. Financial tracking through multiple banking systems, informant networks within their organization. They’re not here anymore.”
“Where did they go?” Dom asked.
“Activity patterns strongly suggest Southern California,” Kellerman said. “We’re coordinating with our SoCal field office. The Sinaloa Pacific Northwest branch appears to be consolidating operations in more established territory.”
“Why abandon a market?” Ryder asked.
“Because the market became compromised,” Kellerman said simply. “Look at it from their perspective. They invested heavily in Brennan and the lab setup. Then a witness compromised the operation. The lab was discovered. Law enforcement involvement escalated. Their chemist became unstable and is now dead. Every indicator told them to cut losses and refocus resources elsewhere.”
“They’re businessmen,” Sullivan added. “Pragmatic ones. Risk-reward analysis favors abandoning compromised territory rather than fighting to hold it. Any law enforcement pressure becomes harder to evade in a small community. Much easier to write off the investment and disappear into larger urban centers where they can operate with anonymity.”
The explanation made sense. Cartels were brutal but rational actors. They weren’t emotional. They didn’t take revenge when it cost them more money. “What about Brie Rayner? The witness?”
“We’ve monitored Ms. Rayner’s situation closely,” Kellerman said. “There has been no surveillance detected on her or her business for three full weeks. Ms. Rayner is no longer a target. With Brennan dead and the cartel relocated, she’s not worth their resources. They’ve moved on.”
Hunter felt something inside his chest unclench, a knot of tension that had been pulled tight for so long he’d forgotten what it felt like without it.
Kellerman stepped back from the screen, his posture shifting from presentation to conclusion. “Based on two weeks of intensive investigation, here’s our official assessment: Dr. Thomas Brennan is deceased. The Sinaloa Pacific Northwestoperation has been dismantled and relocated. The shifter-targeting drug never made it beyond the experimental phase. There is no active threat to the Fate Mountain shifter community. Case status is closed pending new evidence.”
“We’re reallocating resources to active cases,” Sullivan said, already beginning to pack up her laptop. “Phoenix has a situation requiring immediate attention. We’re leaving monitoring protocols in place, automated alerts if Brennan’s name surfaces anywhere in any system. But our active investigation is concluded.”
Chapter
Twenty-Six
The gingerbread Fate Mountainrose before Brie, each piece requiring absolute precision. At four in the morning, Sweet Summit Bakery was her private kingdom of sugar and spice, the only sounds the hum of refrigeration and the tick of cooling ovens. She pressed another panel into place, the royal icing cement still wet enough to adjust the angle by a crucial two degrees.
