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My rage directs toward the ME. “You’re here for him—” I point to Carson’s limp and pale body on the gurney.
With a scowl, he gives his attention to Carson, checking vitals. “He should be taken to the hospital. He’s experiencing an overdose.”
I grab the back of his collar, yanking him up. “You said Avery was working on something.”
He breaks away. “I kept close watch over her findings. It’s possible the antidrug can help. But he’ll still need medical attention.”
“What do you mean you kept close watch?” I’m still suspicious of the ME—every connection to the Feds and Bell is suspect.
Sadie shoves between us, backing me up a few paces. “No time for this. Get us inside Avery’s office.”
I stare down at her, her hard glare matching mine; I have no choice but to trust her. “Bring him with us.”
I head to Avery’s office as Paulson wheels Carson, then I make quick work of picking the lock. I’ve told her so many times to get a deadbolt. I feel sleazy being inside here, rifling through her things, but we’re left with no other choice.
The FBI ME seems to know right where to go, and I eye him the whole time as he locates the vials Carson needs.
“Detective,” he addresses me. “Do you know how to administer an IV drip?”
No, I don’t. But if that’s what Carson needs, I’ll figure it out. “I’m on it.” Luckily Avery keeps her lab orderly and labeled. That helps calm my overactive OCD flare up, and I find the supplies.
“Quinn, look at this,” Sadie says, snagging my attention. She points to a small monitor on Avery’s desk. “Here. I’ll take over the IV.”
I thankfully hand off the supplies to her as I pass to the desk. Within a few seconds, I have the monitor powered up and get an image of the main lab. My heart thrashes my chest. I open her laptop and quickly search the programs, finding what I’m looking for.
A camera feed.
Avery had her own camera installed in the lab. Head buzzing, I click open a folder marked Dates. All footage of the lab. “Sadie.”
My severe tone leaves no room for questions. She slips away from Carson’s side. As soon as she glimpses the feed I’ve pulled up, she curses.
“Shit is right,” I say, turning up the volume on the speakers. Nothing. There’s no audio, only video.
“Avery, you smart bitch,” Sadie whispers. “She made sure there’s a backup in case of a power failure.”
Failure, or a security breach.
I fist my hands, breath held, as I watch the playback from inside the lab. The hallway isn’t captured from this angle, but Agent Bell entering is clear. There’s no mistaking her.
And when Bell pulls a sealed gun from Avery’s bag, my heart threatens to beat through my fucking chest wall. I stand and unclip my phone, searching for Bell’s contact.
“Put the phone away,” Sadie orders. “What are you going to do? Call Bell?”
Damn her knowing my thoughts. My grip on the phone could shatter the screen. “What other choice do I have? Go to the Feds? Tell Rollins one of his own is a sadistic crime lord?”
“No, but calling said sadistic crime lord is definitely last on the list.” She doesn’t look up from the screen. “Come here.” Sadie hits a key. “Just watch. Put the phone away.”
Fuck. “I’m about sick of being ordered—” I break off. “Back the footage up one more time.”
“Wonder who I get it from,” she mutters.
&n
bsp; I suck in a fortifying breath as I watch Avery re-enter the lab with her kit. As Bell leads the way out, Avery turns and looks into the camera. Looks dead-on into it, as if she’s looking at me. Moving closer to the screen, I watch her carefully.
Right before Avery exits the lab, she holds up a device. The tracker I got her. Then she slips it into her back pocket before she leaves.
“Shit.” I grab my coat off the back of the chair, my mind racing.
