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“Hear what?” Lachlan crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“The footage showed a man matching the description the courier gave — approximately six feet, maybe six-two, blond hair, wearing a suit. He was observed approaching the courier’s vehicle. After a conversation lasting less than a minute, this individual gave the courier a thick envelope, presumably the cash, as well as a book. Then the courier drove off in one direction while the individual walked away in another.”
“Did you run facial recognition on this guy?” Nikko asked.
“We couldn’t,” Agent Hawkins stated. “He kept his face obscured, as if knowing precisely where the cameras were located.”
“Which we expected,” Agent Curran interjected.
“So you don’t know who it was?” I asked, despair tightening my throat. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take.
“I wouldn’t say that. While he never looked at the camera, a few seconds after the courier left, another vehicle was seen leaving the parking lot. A Mercedes. We ran the plates.”
Nikko arched a brow. “And?”
“The car is registered to Daxton Shea,” Agent Curran stated.
A brief silence filled the room as we processed the information.
“That fucking bastard,” Lachlan seethed, breaking through the quiet. The muscles in his jaw twitched, nostrils flared, hands clenched. I placed a hand on his arm, attempting to calm him, but his anger was palpable.
“Due to who his family is,” Agent Hawkins continued, “we thought it best to be as certain as possible before pursuing a search and arrest warrant. So we sat the courier down with a photo array.”
Lachlan’s brows scrunched. “Photo array?”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Nikko explained. “You present a handful of photos to the witness, all of whom match the general description of the person in question, and see who they pick.”
“Precisely,” Agent Curran said. “We showed the courier a half-dozen different arrays containing photos of individuals fitting the description he provided. And each time, I’ll give you one guess who he chose.”
“Daxton Shea,” Lachlan ground out.
“I’ve shared all this with the DA,” Agent Hawkins explained. “She was more than satisfied that this evidence was sufficient to present before a judge for a search warrant under the theory he may be harboring a dangerous fugitive. Because of the extenuating circumstances, she found a judge who’d hear the petition today. As we speak, to be precise. I have teams standing by, so we’re ready to go once we have a signed warrant, which should be within the hour.”
I exhaled a tiny breath, a sense of relief filling me. It didn’t matter they weren’t here to tell me they’d found Imogene. While I longed to receive that news, at least this was something. After what felt like a constant stream of bad news, one setback after another, this was a step in the right direction.
Finally.
“I want to be there,” I declared. “Lachlan, too.” I glanced his way.
“I…” Agent Curran shared a look with Agent Hawkins.
“Based on everything we’ve learned, it’s clear Daxton Shea’s been helping my ex-husband,” I stated matter-of-factly. “He sent a courier to deliver a copy of the book you gave him in prison, which contained an inscription that only he’d know the meaning of.”
“True,” Agent Curran agreed. “Or at least there’s sufficient evidence to believe there’s a connection.”
“Exactly.” I held my head high, squaring my shoulders. “Based on what I know about my ex and the evidence found in the locker room, namely Imogene’s cell phone playing the song I used to sing to her as a child, the same song title that was inscribed in the book you received, I have every reason to believe Nick is involved. So if Daxton’s helping him, there’s a possibility she may be at his house. Correct?”
Curran and Hawkins both nodded.
“So I want to be there. If Imogene’s there…” My resolve cracked, lower lip trembling. “If something’s happened to her…” I closed my eyes, swallowing hard, pushing down a new wave of emotion.
Lachlan wrapped an arm around me, pulling me into his embrace, comforting me. I inhaled deeply, drawing strength from him.
“I don’t want the next time I see my daughter to be on some cold, metal table.”
“It won’t be,” Agent Curran attempted to assure me.
“I hope you’re right. I really do. But the second I learned she was missing, all I could think about was what Nick had done to Christine Griffin. If he’s done the same thing…” I squeezed my eyes shut again as Lachlan held me tighter. Then I returned my determined gaze to Agent Curran. “Just grant me this one request. Please.”
