Page 53 of Wade’s Wrath

Ripper held the folder toward Butcher. “We traced Kane Logistics.”

Harlow wrapped her arms around herself. “And what did you find?” she asked.

Butcher took the folder. “Your father's company owns six warehouses within fifty miles of here.”

She nodded. “That isn't unusual. Kane Logistics owns hundreds of properties.”

“Three are active,” Butcher continued.

“And the others?” she questioned.

“Supposedly empty,” he said.

Wade already knew where this was going, and he didn’t like it one bit. “Supposedly?” Harlow repeated.

Ripper looked at Butcher, and he opened the folder. “We checked one.”

Harlow's face drained of color. “You went there?”

“Brother drove past it,” Butcher explained.

“And what did he find?” she asked.

“There were trucks outside of the building,” Butcher said.

“What kind of trucks?” she asked.

“Box trucks with no markings on the outside,” he said.

“That doesn't mean anything,” she insisted.

“No, it doesn’t,” Butcher agreed. Harlow looked relieved—too relieved, but Butcher wasn't finished. “One of the plates came back to Donnelly Meridian.”

The relief vanished, and Wade moved closer to her. Harlow didn't seem to notice. “Maybe they're doing business together,” she said.

“It’s possible,” Butcher said.

“My father and Frank have dozens of business deals,” she insisted.

“Also possible,” Butcher agreed.

“Then this proves nothing,” she whispered.

“No.” Harlow's shoulders relaxed slightly. “But we found something else,” Butcher said.

“What else?” she asked. Butcher reached into the folder, and he pulled out a photograph. Harlow stared at it. Wade couldn't see what it was until Butcher handed it to her. Her knees nearly buckled, but Wade caught her. This time, she didn't flinch. She grabbed his shirt with one hand while staring at the picture.

“What is it?” Wade demanded. Harlow couldn't answer. Wade took the photograph from her. A young woman stood beside a black SUV. She was blond, thin, and looked terrified. The picture looked like it had been taken from a distance. “What am I looking at?” Wade asked.

Harlow whispered one word. “Sarah.”

Wade looked at her. “You know her?” She nodded. “Who is she?”

“She worked for my father,” Harlow said.

Every muscle in Wade's body tightened. “Doing what?”

“She was my assistant,” Harlow said. Fuck. Harlow took the photograph back, and her hand trembled. “She disappeared about eight months ago.”