Page 133 of Running to You

She’d trade anything, do anything, as long as the ones she loved were safe. If that meant losing Sam…

She’d already lost him. Somehow, she’d learn to live with that.

But she couldn’t survive if Mom or Nicole were hurt because of her. Or killed.

She couldn’t live with it if Levi spent his life with that monster and his doting wife, raised to believe lies upon lies upon lies.

The car stopped, and Michael shifted into park. “Can you access the server?”

It took her a moment to figure out what he was talking about. “Yeah. I should be able to. Sam, we have that plastic thing, right?”

“Uh-huh.” He pulled the white strip—the collar tab thing—from his pocket and handed it back.

The men stepped out of the SUV, so she did the same, then walked between them toward the little business center/copy shop ahead.

“What are we doing?” Eliza asked.

“Protecting the evidence.” Michael lifted the manila envelope she’d taken from the bank. “Keller wants it back, but we need to keep a copy. If we can transfer what’s in the server to a thumb drive—”

“But…wait.” She froze in front of the door. “We’re not going to turn it over? Shouldn’t we just give this to the police and let them handle it?”

“We’ll do that next, right?” Sam looked from her to Michael. “The FBI deals with this sort of thing all the time.”

But Michael wasn’t nodding. In fact, his lips were set in a grim line.

A couple of people stepped out of the copy shop, and Michael marched away from the door and foot traffic and cars, rounding the corner at the edge of the building.

Eliza and Sam followed. Sam was still a few yards away when he said, “What’s going on?”

When they reached him, Michael focused on her. “The thing is, the FBI has their standard operating procedure. They can probably find them faster than I can. But I can find them, Eliza. I will find them.”

“And then what?” Sam asked. “Are we supposed to rescue them? Go in, guns blazing?”

The question was ridiculous, but Michael didn’t laugh. “Not exactly, but we’ll figure out how—”

“I don’t understand.” Eliza’s heart raced. “Why aren’t we calling the police?”

“The professionals,” Sam added.

At least she and Sam agreed on this one thing. That was something.

A muscle ticked in Michael’s jaw. “The FBI will find them, surround the place, and then contact Keller. They’ll try to negotiate, get him to release Levi and your mother and whoever else he’s holding. You know him, Eliza. What do you think he’ll do?”

She tried to imagine Jed backed into a corner, admitting defeat, and coming out with his hands up.

The picture wouldn’t come.

“I’ve never met him,” Michael said, “but from what you’ve told us and the conversation we just overheard—he’s a narcissist, probably a megalomaniac, right?” The description fit. Michael turned to Sam. “You agree?”

“I’m no psychologist, but yeah. He’s a Jesus-wannabe.”

With a nod, Michael turned back to her. “He has a messiah complex, and maybe other mental illnesses. The point is, he doesn’t seem like the type to negotiate a peace deal.”

“But the FBI are trained to handle that kind of thing, aren’t they?” She looked from one brother to the other. “I mean, they’re better trained than we are.”

“Better at negotiations, yeah.” Michael’s words were slow, measured. “I watched negotiators try to talk down a religious fanatic once. They assumed they could appeal to his common sense or morality or greed. But not everyone has the capacity for common sense. And some people’s only moral code is their own desires—or delusions. And their greed can’t be satisfied with anything any sane person would offer. And that can end…” He looked away, and in that moment, she had the sense that he wasn’t seeing the drab parking lot or the neighboring businesses.

“What happened?” Eliza asked.