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“Hyper,” Knot addresses the man in greeting.
“Sir.”
“I’m in!” Squid declares.
In response, the room erupts into a flurry of activity, starting with Erin bending down to kiss her husband’s temple. “We’re going to Sam’s house since Chase is coming here. Don’t forget to eat.”
Two hours later, security escorts Detective Cooper to the war room. Eyes glued to the people on the screen, he asks, “What have you found?”
Knot makes introductions while Cle rubs her eyes and yawns. “So far, we’ve only confirmed Hiller’s penchant for sexting young girls through online gaming chats. I haven’t yet found anything tying him to Birdie’s disappearance.”
“Anything from the BOLO?” Knot asks.
“Nothing,” Cooper answers. “And the florist denied ever seeing Hiller.”
Cle yawns again, and her husband steps up and places his hands on her shoulders as she speaks. “Guys, I don’t think there’s anything more to learn from Hiller’s computer. He’s still not used any of his cards, either. I’m confident he’s involved, but he’s covered his tracks well. I followed Hiller’s car on traffic cams, but there are too many places in the city that the cameras don’t follow. I lost him quickly after he left work yesterday.”
Squid pipes in with an update of his own. “We’ve got no family properties on Hiller’s or his wife’s side that aren’t populated areas. I checked cameras around both areas and never spotted Hiller’s car or Hiller himself.”
Cooper lowers to one of the task chairs in the room. “I hate to say it, but you all may as well get some sleep. Our hands are tied until he surfaces. Tomorrow is Friday. More people will be out. We’ll get a sighting then.”
Cooper’s expression tells me his words are total bullshit. In his mind, Birdie’s death certificate is already signed. He’s wrong, but I don’t disagree audibly. Surprising Knot, I say, “Get some sleep. We’re all going to need it.”
I get up and turn for the door, but Knot grabs my arm, pulling my eyes his way. His face is tired and haunted, about like I feel. I can’t imagine how I look.
Whatever Knot was thinking, he’s decided to keep it to himself. I shrug off his grip and walk to the basement to retrieve my truck.
It makes me fucking sick to be walking away, but I have nothing to contribute to the computer geniuses in the room. Still, I can’t just go home to rest, knowing Birdie is living a nightmare.
For the next two hours, I drive around Norfolk, visiting the areas Birdie frequents in her sting ops. The last stop takes me to Main Street in my part of the military city. Logically, I know there’s nothing here to find, but I need to look so guilt doesn’t swallow me whole.
At home, I’m awake just long enough to kick off my boots and weapon belt, and I’d swear I’ve only been asleep for five minutes when someone starts banging on my door. I’m on my feet in the next heartbeat, racing to see who it is. I don’t even check the peephole before swinging the door wide open.
Jackson shoves past me to pace the living room floor. “Why the fuck did I find out from Commander O’Reilly that Birdie was kidnapped yesterday?!”
My friend finally looks at me, and his eyes widen in alarm. “You look like shit.”
I don’t reply.
“What can I do?” he asks.
I wish I could tell him something, but guilt is like a vice, squeezing the air out of my chest, rendering me unable to breathe, much less speak. Jackson’s shoulders slump when I only stare blankly past him. After a beat, he straightens again, storms to the kitchen, and starts a pot of coffee. “Sit,” he orders. “This ain’t fucking over.”
My heart is still pounding from the rude awakening. I’m disgusted with myself for sleeping while Birdie is still missing and disappointed that it wasn’t her at my door. I need to get moving, to rejoin the search, but I’m rooted to the spot, paralyzed.
When I’m not in the kitchen as the coffee finishes, Navy SEAL Lieutenant Bennet straightens his shoulders and barks, “I can still kick your ass if I need to.”
I shake my head, trying to clear some of the fog. Moving feels like an insurmountable undertaking. My body is frozen as if I’m encased in ice. I fight to break free, knowing Birdie is out there somewhere, praying for me to find her.
Thoughts of Birdie’s bright smile and warm body gradually melt away the icy grip, allowing me the strength to move. Since I’m no longer a husk staring vacantly out the door, Jackson places a couple of mugs on the kitchen table and gestures for me to sit. “What happened?” he asks.
I drop into the nearest chair and rest my head in my hands. The coffee goes untouched as I run through the story for the fiftieth time. Once I’m done, Jackson slides the steaming mug under my nose, and I finally lift my head.
Jackson sits in the seat across from me, concern weighing down his brow. “So, the cops think this Hiller guy snuck in the back of the eye clinic and waited for her.”
He leans back and crosses his arms while shaking his head. “That’s some stretch. The most obvious question has to be why anyone would think some random pedophile would know about Birdie’s medical appointments.”
I finally sit upright but still ignore the coffee. “That’s just it. Birdie’s appointment wasn’t supposed to be until today. It was a last-minute change due to her doctor being in a car accident. She would have been put off for weeks except for the new doctor on staff.”
