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“You ready?” Stash asked.
Gate gestured to the bar, “Yeah, let’s get started.”
The boys laid out all their techno-geek shit, and Rooster glanced at Jenna, “We found him.”
“You did?” Jenna asked, hope filling her eyes. “How?”
“Hacked a military satellite,” Stash started.
“But that was mostly for fun,” Rooster interrupted.
“Then worked our way through traffic cams,” Stash went on like his partner hadn’t spoken.
Rooster pulled up a grainy black and white video, “Found a side angle on the hospital. Quality is shit, but that’s your ex, yeah?”
Jenna leaned closer, took in the image of Edward being manhandled into an open trunk, and choked, “Yeah, that’s him.”
“Hope the dude is smart because he sucks at self-defense,” Rooster mumbled.
“Rooster,” Gate growled. “Back on point.”
Rooster looked to Gate, and then his eyes twitched to Jenna, “Yeah, right. So we followed him from there….”
“To here,” Stash broke in, passing a black and white photo to Jenna.
Gate didn’t bother looking since he’d already seen everything the boys had found. So far, so good. But she hadn’t seen it all yet.
Jenna squinted at the photo, “Where’s this?”
“A fishing shack over toward Shellman’s Bluff,” Stash said.
She looked up, “You were able to follow him that far with traffic cameras?”
“That’s where the satellite came in,” Rooster answered.
Stash handed over another photo and pointed, “That’s the car they hauled Eddie in.” He moved his finger, “And that’s the Chevy that was at the container yard.”
“So we know where he is,” Jenna said. “What now?”
“That’s not all, Jen,” Gate said.
Stash waited for Gate’s nod and then passed Jenna another photo.
“This image was taken about an hour after the first one you saw,” Stash said.
Jenna frowned, “What am I looking at?”
Rooster pointed at a dark patch on the ground near the back end of the car, “That appears to be blood.”
“And this,” Stash took over, pointing to another area in the photo, “seems to be a blood trail leading into the woods.”
Jenna looked from the photo to Stash, “What are you telling me?”
Gate picked up his glass and sipped, “He’s telling you that we think Edward tried to escape.”
“No way the kid could have,” Ryder added, shaking his head. “Bullet’s in his head,” he went on, walking over to the upright cooler. He pulled out a beer, popped the top, and drank.
“That’s Edward’s blood?” Jenna asked, eyes wide.
