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“Private security.”

His finger moved farther south.

Then stopped.

A long section of road sat empty. “No council cameras. No business. No houses facing the road. Nothing.”

My pulse slowed. “Blind zone.”

“Almost two and a half miles.”

“Where does she first appear?”

Carven tapped the screen. A marker illuminated at the northern edge. “Here.”

I stared. “Any footage of a vehicle entering?”

“No.”

“Leaving?”

“No.”

“Side roads?”

“Checked.”

“River?”

“Possible, but difficult at night.”

“Do it anyway.”

“Already sent men.”

I looked at the footage again. Bethany walking. Calm. Steady. Never looking behind her.

“She wasn’t dumped,” Carven said.

My gaze lifted.

He pointed to the map. “If somebody panicked and wanted rid of her, there are twenty easier places.”

Colt nodded.

“They chose the one stretch where she could appear on foot without anything showing how she got there.”

Cold moved through me. Outside the grid. Deliberate.

“How long would it take to walk home from there?”

“Couple of hours.”

“And whoever left her knew that.”

Neither twin answered. They didn’t need to.

I handed the phone back. London’s words returned.