Page 60 of Cipher

Susan’s breathing had steadied by the time the deputy knocked and identified himself. I stayed on the line until she opened the door and I heard the officer confirm he had her. Only then did I release the call and sit back in my chair.

My phone vibrated with a reply from my father.

Dad

Got it. Will assemble a trusted team to head out to the old pit.

I’d helped as much as I could from the safety of dispatch, but that didn’t stop me from worrying about what would happen out there. A couple of minutes later, my cell rang. I wasn’t supposed to answer personal calls during my shift, but my dad’s name flashed across the screen. If Mr. Hendrick had a problem with me speaking to the sheriff after I handled a call connected to an ongoing investigation of someone I’d known for years, he could keep his opinion to himself.

“You okay, Dad?”

“Yeah.” I heard the slamming of a door in the background. “Wanted to let you know I sent another deputy to the Pritchard residence. With all the shit that’s gone down, I figured you’d want to know she’s covered.”

“I do. Thanks.”

“Gotta tell you, kiddo. I’m so damn proud of you.”

I sniffled. “Really?”

“Worked with a hell of a lot of dispatchers over the years, but none of them hold a candle to you.”

That earned him a watery laugh. “Yeah, but you’re kind of biased since I’m your daughter.”

“I need you to really hear me, Bex.”

His voice was serious enough for me to straighten in my chair. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“I hate that you wound up in the middle of a situation where a man I’ve trusted for years betrayed his badge. That you were the one who was on the other end of the line when his wife called in after he scared the shit out of her.”

“I’m not happy about it either,” I admitted softly.

“But you stood tall through it all, while Pritchard chose to tuck his tail between his legs and run instead of answering more questions,” he growled. “Being your father sometimes makes it hard for me to see the professional you’ve become, but it’s been impossible to miss under these circumstances. I’m damn proud of you, Bex. Your mom would’ve been too.”

One of the tears I’d been holding back slid silently down my cheek. “Thank you, Dad. I’m proud of you too.”

“Love you, kiddo. Stay safe while we go take care of whatever the hell Pritchard is up to at the old pit. My team is about ready to head out now.”

“I love you too, Dad.” I wiped the wetness from my face. “Be careful out there and please make sure Corbin also comes home safely.”

“Don’t think you need to worry about Cipher. The Black Crowns know what they’re doing,” he murmured begrudgingly before hanging up.

Trusting the two men I loved to handle the situation, I straightened my headset and took the next call. There were still people who needed the voice on the other end of the line. That part of the job hadn’t changed, even if everything inside me felt like it had.

25

CIPHER

The abandoned county burn pit sat in a hollow of blackened earth and scrub several miles beyond the last occupied property, hidden from the road by a berm high enough to trap smoke until it climbed above the surrounding hills. Nomad killed his headlights before the final turn, and the rest of us rolled in behind him without engines, letting the bikes coast down the slope while Ghost’s truck blocked the only usable exit. Orange light flickered beyond the berm, followed by the hard crack of something striking metal, and the smell of accelerant reached us before we cleared the rise.

Pritchard stood beside a steel barrel pouring fuel over a duffel while flames crawled along one edge of Stowe’s county-issued maintenance laptop. Pike had a phone on the ground beneath his boot, grinding his heel against the screen as if breaking the glass would erase whatever waited inside the memory. Stowe hovered several feet away with both hands half raised, his face already carrying the terrified understanding that the motorcycles surrounding the pit did not belong to deputies bringing warrants.

“Step away from the barrel,” I ordered, crossing the open ground with Stryker and Hawkeye flanking me while the other brothers spread around the perimeter. “Hands where I can see them.”

Stowe froze immediately, but Pritchard dropped the fuel can and went for the handgun I knew he carried concealed at the back of his waistband. Pike ran toward the open cargo area of his SUV, where our surveillance had already confirmed he kept a licensed pistol inside a lockbox. Neither man reached what he wanted.

Pritchard cleared leather but never got the weapon level. I closed the distance, caught his wrist with both hands, and drove the muzzle into the dirt as his finger clenched around the trigger. The shot punched a dark crater beside my boot, and I twisted through his elbow before slamming his hand against the steel barrel hard enough to loosen the gun and break something.

He tried to recover, reaching with his other hand while rage and panic turned his face red. I stripped the weapon from his grip, drove my knee into his ribs, then planted his dominant hand beneath my boot and came down hard. Bone collapsed under my heel, and his scream tore across the pit as he folded around the ruined fingers.