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He studied the message for longer than necessary before he folded his arms across his chest. “Track her phone from the text. You can do that, can’t you?” Apparently, it was rhetorical. Before I could answer, he gave off orders. “Send me her coordinates. If she’s near Chicago, like I think she is, then I’ll call one of my buddies with the U.S. Marshal’s office, Colton. He’ll lend us a hand.”
“Will do.” I sat back down at the desk and opened up a new window as I started a backend trace from the phone number where the text originated. Once I finished that, I was able to ping its location off the cell towers. Sure enough, Chicago. I texted Mason the information from within our private network.
“Send her a text back. Let her know to go along with it.”
I had no idea what Mason was talking about, but I relayed the message via text. I opened up a second window as I accessed the surveillance cameras along the highway. The vehicle they were in was headed for O’Hare International Airport.
“Where are you going?” I said to myself as I watched the screen.
Footsteps thumped inside Mason’s office, and then the door slammed abruptly. Had I been that loud? I opened my mouth to apologize, but it didn’t happen.
Mason was on the phone with someone. I could hear his muffled, gruff voice through the wall. He was talking to someone, perhaps this person Colton who he had mentioned earlier. How would the U.S. Marshals be able to help? What had Hazel gotten herself into?
Hopefully, it wasn’t a hoax, but the look that crossed Mason’s face when he’d read the message on my laptop—it had to be authentic and she was in danger.
I wanted to do more. I couldn’t let it go. I opened up the text message window for Hazel and sent another reply.
Can you tell me what’s going on?
Maybe I could offer more help if we had more information. They were heading to the airport. If I knew what flight, perhaps I could hack into the ticketing system and put them on the no-fly list.
Mason?
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
Yes.
I texted back a little too quickly. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be upset that I lied. She wouldn’t ever have to know. And if I could help, why shouldn’t I try?
What’s my favorite color?
Shit. How was I supposed to know that? Was this a trick question? Radio silence. I didn’t answer. She didn’t respond. I screwed up.
Mason swung open the office door and stepped into the hallway. “Quit sending texts to Hazel. I can see everything on your monitor.”
My stomach tanked. Shit. From where he stood, he couldn’t see my computer screen. The only explanation was that he decided to hack my computer. When had he done that, after Hazel sent me the first message?
Mason threw on his coat and headed down the hall toward the front entrance. “Answer her. Tell her rainbow,” Mason shouted to me over his shoulder.
Rainbow.
I breathed a sigh of relief. My fingers drummed against the desk. I waited for her to answer while I kept an eye on the monitor. There were several surveillance cameras outside the airport. The black sedan she was in passed through the last one with no further exits. I linked into one of the satellite feeds, narrowed in on her coordinates. I needed to be with her, to see what was going on.
Where the hell had Mason gone? Didn’t he want to watch? I shifted uncomfortably in the seat, and Lucy glanced back over her shoulder at me, another death glare.
I grimaced but shrugged in response. I wasn’t apologizing for my concern for Hazel or the squeakiness of the chair.
Two black SUVs swerved toward the sedan, forcing the vehicle to come to an abrupt halt. I held my breath, watched as four men jumped out with guns drawn, and yanked open the back door. The feed turned snowy and went dead.
