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“What about the one that had the accident? Is he really in the hospital?”
The man on the laptop lifts his head, showing me a Pantera Security logo on his shirt. “Dude’s in surgery getting pins put in a fucked-up arm.”
“Bastien Laurent, meet Nate Erickson. Squid. Squid, meet Bash.”
I gloss over the introduction, diving right back into the business of finding Birdie. “What about cameras in the area? There had to be at least one to catch someone leaving the eye clinic.”
“I’m sorry,” she answers sadly. “The closest one is to the west, two intersections away, and we can’t know what direction our guy took once he left the clinic.”
Knot swears under his breath and straightens like I didn’t just see a chink in his armor. “I hate to say it, Laurent, but this guy picked the perfect place to nab Birdie.”
Knot may sound controlled, but the tightness around his eyes gives him away. He’s scared. “I don’t get it. You’re Dillan fucking Knot. How do you not already have this guy’s ass roasting over a spit?”
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. Birdie’s the reason. She’s the one that finds people. I’ve heard about Cle’s reputation, but she’s only been on this case for ninety minutes. Birdie and I have been looking for this guy for a week.
My nerves and my need to hunt get the best of me, and I head for the door. “I can’t just sit here,” I announce over my shoulder. “I’m going to see if I can find anything at her place.”
I blow through the door, stopping at the entrance to the stairs. “Frank!”
“Yo,” he answers, stepping forward, the arms of the gray-haired Jarhead straining his uniform shirt.
“You can get me past Birdie’s security at home, right?”
He nods. “Yeah. I have the overrides.”
“You’re with me then.”
He doesn’t question the order or ask to confirm with the boss. At this point, everyone wearing a Knot uniform knows about Birdie and that finding her is our only priority.
When we reach the bottom floor, I toss the security manager my keys since my truck is the closest vehicle. He starts the engine and contacts gate security as he races toward the exit. After we’ve left the compound, I put in a call to Detective Cooper, who answers on the first ring.
“I’m going to Birdie’s house,” I bark before he can speak. “I’ve got someone that can deactivate her security.”
“I’ll meet you there. Has Knot found anything?”
“He’s cleared two of the staff, but that’s it. What about your team? What have you found?”
The cop sighs, telling me everything I don’t want to hear. “Nothing.”
“What about prints?”
“We’ve got a shit ton because it’s a fucking clinic. We’re running them, but it’ll take a while. You have to know that we won’t get a match on everything, and it’s possible our guy didn’t leave prints at all.”
The update isn’t anything I couldn’t have guessed, but having it confirmed still sucks. Biting off a string of curses, I snarl, “I’ll be at Birdie’s in ten.”
Frank remains silent during the trip, apparently not having any wisdom to offer, not that I’m in the state of mind to listen to reason anyway. The clock on the dash reads six seventeen. Nearly two hours. Fuck.
Cooper is waiting in Birdie’s driveway when we pull in beside the unmarked police cruiser. The two of us rush to the porch, led by Frank. He punches in a master code to Birdie’s door panel, which unlocks the door and disarms the security system all at once.
As a cop wired to be the first to face danger, Cooper slides Frank out of the way and enters the house with his gun drawn. I’m on his six, with Frank bringing up the rear. “You two clear the house, and I’ll get into Birdie’s computer,” I whisper.
I gave the order because I know the house hasn’t been breached. Knot’s system is better than top-notch, and any unauthorized entry would have called down an army of Knot security agents.
The two men continue past Birdie’s office off the entry while I step inside and holster my Glock. I have her computer up and running in seconds, and the other two men walk in as I log into one of Birdie’s hunting programs. “What are you looking for?” Cooper asks.
Between me and the mouse, I don’t have the first fucking clue. “Won’t know until I see it.”
What are you doing, Bash? On a hunch, I call up her message board in this program. What I find is a lot of unanswered activity. My gut clenches at what that means. She kept her word and left this alone until we could work together again.
