Page 146
“Well, that’s comforting.”
Her lips twitched, but the humor disappeared almost immediately. “We’ll assess it when we get there. If a controlled entry becomes necessary, I can handle it.”
Blake studied the photograph again.
The building had once been a rehabilitation center. Private rooms. Treatment areas. Places where someone could be kept out of sight.
He imagined Devon locked inside one of them, alone. His hands curled into fists.
Emmett noticed.
“Blake.”
He looked up.
The other man’s gaze locked with his. “We’re getting close.”
“Not close enough.”
“Still.” Emmett shoved his hands into his front pockets. “We’re better off now than we were an hour ago.”
Even Blake couldn’t argue with that.
Lincoln checked his phone when it vibrated again. “Hold on.” He answered, listened for several seconds, then frowned. “Are you sure?”
Everyone in the room went still.
Lincoln looked toward Emmett. “Send me everything you’ve got.”
He ended the call.
“What?” Blake demanded.
Lincoln pulled in a slow breath. “The property manager finally returned our call. Says Crestview rented the building for a private medical consulting operation. They told him they’d be storing equipment and conducting occasional training sessions.”
Gwen frowned. “Training sessions?”
“That’s the story he was given.”
“And?” Emmett pressed.
“The manager says he received a call yesterday from someone claiming to represent the tenant. They wanted to know whether the building’s old patient rooms still had functioning locks.”
Blake’s blood turned cold.
“Why?”
“According to the caller, they were preparing for a demonstration involving restricted-access treatment areas.”
Gwen snorted. “Convenient explanation.”
“Why bother calling at all?” Draven’s brows dipped inward. “Wouldn’t that just draw unwanted attention to the property?”
Jethro’s expression hardened. “They’re covering their asses.” When everyone looked over at him, he further explained, “It was a preemptive strike. That way, if anyone notices unusual activity in and around the building, they’ll blow it off as the so-called training exercises and move on.”
Blake ignored the pain in his side as he pushed himself away from the table. “She’s there.”
Emmett met his stare. “No one’s arguing that theory.”
