Page 142 of Pretty Savage: Defy

“The burial site has been connected to an ongoing federal narcotics investigation involving multiple states.” He returns the photograph to the folder. “We have a warrant for your arrest in connection with Trent Riveria’s murder.”

Three days is not enough time to excavate a burial site, identify a body, process a fire-damaged weapon, connect the remains to a federal investigation, and obtain a murder warrant unless someone was waiting to tell them exactly where to look.

Someone gave them Trent’s name.

Someone made sure they found my dagger.

Silas or Jack?

Silas could want revenge for Trent’s death, but he asked Laurel where we put the body. He wouldn’t have needed to manipulate the answer out of her if he already knew enough to direct federal agents to the grave. Besides, the last thing he wants is federal agents digging into his Devil’s Dust operation.

Which leaves Jack.

The conclusion is obvious. I invoked a solo bond, reclaimed power in front of The Order, and fractured the alliances Jack intended to use against my family. Before the smoke has even cleared, federal agents arrive to take me into custody.

He couldn’t have assembled the entire case in the time since the fire. He must have been holding most of it in reserve. Trent’s identity. The location of the grave. The connection to the narcotics investigation. The fire gave him everything else he needed: Ashford House open to investigators, the cornfield stripped bare, my father injured, and enough chaos to take the dagger from my bedroom and place it beside the body before anyone reached the field. Now, before we can determine what happened to Laurel or who attacked us, I’m facing a murder charge.

Jack doesn’t need to defeat me inside The Order if he can hand me to the government instead. He knows what I’ve done to protect Ashford House and how little any explanation will matter once the evidence reaches the outside world.

An arrest separates me from Laurel, weakens the Ashford line, and destroys the presidential future The Order built around me. Every outcome benefits Jack. Every loss of Ashford power creates more room for Jackson.

I can’t prove he arranged this, not yet, but this timing isn’t a coincidence.

“Stand and turn around,” Harris orders.

His hand hovers near his weapon. Bowey’s attention shifts briefly toward Thomson, waiting to see whether he’ll interfere.

“My Bonded is missing,” I say without moving.

The word earns the blank expression I expected. To these men, Bonded means nothing, and explaining it would give them another reason to question my judgment.

“My girlfriend,” I correct. “Laurel Turner and a group of women disappeared during the fire.”

“You can provide that information after you’ve been processed,” Bowey says.

“She’s been missing since the fire. Every hour matters.”

“The Ashport Police Department is handling any missing-person cases.” He holds up the handcuffs like he’s presenting them to me.

“They don’t understand what they’re investigating.”

“Do you?”

Not yet.

I know Silas wanted Laurel alive. Jack wanted her controlled. Sam promised to stop the sealing and left the hall minutes before the fire began. Nearly half the missing women are Sisters from our year. Most of all, I know Sisters don’t abandon one another unless someone gives them a reason or forces them.

There’s a pattern in those facts. I know it even if I can’t see it yet.

Harris shifts his coat aside so I see the silver flash of his gun. Fighting would gain me less than a minute. It would leave Thomson explaining why two federal agents were injured in my hospital room and give them reason to isolate me from everyone capable of searching for Laurel.

Before Laurel, I would have welcomed the violence.

Now every decision has to be measured against whether it brings me closer to her or creates another delay.

I lift my hands.

Bowey takes my left wrist. The cuff closes directly below the wound Laurel and I made together. Metal presses into swollen skin, sending pain through my palm and radiating up my arm.